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In response to post by Living Poetry’s
Bartholomew Barker
“Let’s Write A Picnic Poem”

A bed of roses life is not
a nest of thorns
is where I lay my lot

That pretty vine
that looks so soft
poison ivy is what I got

Up above the sky so blue
above my head seagull’s flew
onto my head they did plop

This pretty blanket I sit upon
checkered red placed on the ground
wool made blisters all around

This poem has said nothing new
think I shall have to give
it back to Bartholomew!

It is very difficult
to realize
What you are to me
is not what I am to you

It is heartbreaking
to know
My sun rises and sets with you
I am but a shadow for you in your sun

It is with agonizing clarity
to understand
Number one you are for me
for you I am way past three

It is utterly disappointing
to comprehend
Your life a full story to mine
mine a mere sentence in yours

It is with painful acceptance
to relinquish
Dreams and expectations
and just be me

Truth and consequences
cause and effect
Splash to tsunami
sunrise to sunset

Neglect to illness
loneliness to despair
Actions and reactions
heartache and tears

One to three
universe to me
Harmful today
deadly ricochet

In response to RDP Wednesday Prompt – SUNFLOWER
Posted by curiouscat99 @ ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com

Sunflower is my May flower
not a typical day flower
a happy sunny picnic days flower
welcome to vacation days flower
salted seeds and raven wings flower
rain showers standing strong flower
Sunflower is my May flower

The road slowly curves
following the shapely
silhouette of the sea

To follow the black
noxious tarred surface
into another day

Unimaginable torment
waiting around that bend
street lights blaring

Below is the deep dark sea
cool inviting solitude
beckoning me home

Anger cures all
wipes away the pain.
Pain of separation, loss,
betrayal and heartache.

A boiling hot inferno,
rage sterilizes emotions.
Obliterates the incapacitating,
overwhelming misery.

Resentment cuts deep both ways,
amputating the infection.
Relieving the bearer
of the life-leaching agony.

Tears sizzle, evaporate
beneath the onslaught
of molten vehemence,
monumental eruptions of temper.

Fury soothes the tempest,
shrinks the heart,
takes it to a safer place.
Anger cures all.

When I die
may butterfly wings
whisk me away
on a whisper of wind

May they find me
among my flowers
a spade in my hand
and a smile on my face

I wish that sadness
not permeate the joy
and beauty of nature
I was blessed to find here

Allow me to rest beneath
the hallowed ground of
Mother Earth herself
until the very end of time

That I may give back
all that she has given me
And so when I die may
they find me in my Garden

Days filled
with waiting
Nights hold only
dread

Weeks slip into eternity
Months flip by
with waning
curiosity

Time heals all things
distance provides
Gratuitous bouts of
indifference

I remain unhealed
in time and all things
Indifference breeds
non-sustainability

Emerge night
bearing my heart
a steep climb
with flashes of sanity

On the verge
hanging over the bow
depths of despair
life a mystery – misery

When dreams clash
and a grain of reality slides between the bond forged within you
What then?