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Brittle Bones

30 Thursday Mar 2023

Posted by webbywriter1 in poetry

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She smiles at me,

her face a mosaic like shiny glass.

I turn away and the glass shatters into thousands of little pieces,

lying on the floor.

“We’re so happy you’re here,” she says.

My eyes slide sideways to her face.

How often has she said this?

“You are the bomb,” she tells me smiling.

The smile doesn’t penetrate those bulging blue eyes and green metallic eyeliner.

“We’re here to help,” she says admiring the polish on her nails.

“It’s all about helping them be the best they can be.”

The eyes glitter over the cat-like smile as she adjusts her designer jacket.

“You know you can always ask me for help,” he adjusts his green and brown bow tie,

over the matching green dress shirt.

He musters a smile, faintly.

The brittle bones are so fragile and easily broken,

Not easily mended.

The milk of human kindness doesn’t flow here much.  

Ah, me. To think on how things used to be, and

might never be, again.  

3/23

cew

The Writing

28 Tuesday Mar 2023

Posted by webbywriter1 in poetry

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The words won’t come.

Sulky as an obstinate child,

standing in the corner with a frown.

I cajole with candy and sweets.

The muse shakes her head, an angry no.

I want to shake her.

No good.

I am back at my typewriter,

Staring at the piece.

“You know, it has potential,” the editor told me and

smiled. “But needs work.”

I smiled back and worked on it a week.

I’ll swear it’s worse than before.

Damn it. I pull out the paper so

I can rip it to shreds.

The little girl in the corner laughs and

shakes a finger at me. “No, no, no.”

“You might be able to use it somewhere else.”

Somewhere else is exactly where I’d rather be,

then staring at this stupid machine while the ghosts

of words whisper at me in voices that refuse to cooperate.

Cew 2/23

Canoe

14 Tuesday Mar 2023

Posted by webbywriter1 in poetry, romance

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I sit down in my seat,

waiting.

You dash in as always, hair flying and

give me a cheery hello. You

take your seat across the room from me.

Throughout the meeting you stare at me, but nothing else.

You close your eyes.

I see the pain on your face.

So, I close my eyes.

Waking up, I am in a canoe on a river.

The cold, dirty water is rushing by.

You are on the other side, frozen in a block

of ice. Eyes closed, arms tight to your side.

I paddle my canoe over and stare at the ice.

Reaching out a fingertip, I touch the ice.

Cold.

You don’t waken.

The ice bobs on the water and then,

the current pulls it away, down the river.

The paddle is across my lap. Tears fall down,

land on the backs of my hands.

But the current is swift. I must avoid the rocks and tree stumps.

I paddle my canoe.

Cew 3/23

The Tootbrush

26 Thursday Jan 2023

Posted by webbywriter1 in dating, poetry, romance

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He left his toothbrush,

a trifling,

no more.

Yet, he’s never done that before.

At first I thought

it was mine,

but I don’t use

that kind.

He will see me ‘next time’

he says, telling me,

we are not ‘together.’

Ok, I say, whatever forever,

and yet, he forgot

his toothbrush.

Humm.

The Shoes

10 Tuesday Jan 2023

Posted by webbywriter1 in homelessnes, money, poetry

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She stared and stared at my shoes.

I looked down at my feet – leather
sandals with blue, rhinestone straps.

My fresh pedicure winked back at me with
gold sparkle polish.

I looked back at her. Now her head was hanging
way down like she was thinking.

“If I could just have the shoes, it would all be okay.”

I looked away. She made me uncomfortable with her
shabby clothes and dirty hands, holding the handle of the old
metal shopping cart.

It was filled to the brim with stuff, flotsam and jetsam, boxes and bags
in all mis-matched colors and styles. They matched her clothes.

Her head hung down so you couldn’t see her eyes.

I glanced at my Seiko watch to check the time. Didn’t want to be
late for that hair appointment.

She had on an old visor, stuck in her hair that mostly hid her face.
I readjusted the ear buds on my Apple I-phone.

I didn’t want to look at her, share her shame. Irresistibly my
eyes were pulled back to her riding on this crowded subway.

Why so many bags and boxes? Ah, this is her house that she carries with her.
Of course.

She blends in here, with all the other people, all going somewhere.
She could be anyone else.

It’s when she leaves here and goes up to the street,
that’s when she has to become someone who has
somewhere to go, someone to meet.

But there is no one and nowhere. Just the street.

I check my lipstick in the mirror in my handbag,
the train is slowing down.

Time to get back to my life.

Acid Rain

10 Tuesday Jan 2023

Posted by webbywriter1 in dating, poetry, romance

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Your love is like acid rain,

and me with no umbrella.

It pours down and rips the

flesh from my bones.

It seeps inside my marrow

and destroys me.

I am on my knees

before it.

Did I say?

I love the rain.

Dragon

09 Wednesday Feb 2022

Posted by webbywriter1 in homelessnes, poetry

≈ Comments Off on Dragon


The animal creaks and groans loudly,
it clangs and rattles incessantly.
The metal scales beat and pound
on each other.

It clanks back and forth, back and forth,
swaying through the night as it
roars mercilessly across the
countryside, its tail whipping to
and fro.

I sit safe and snug inside the belly
of the beast, watching as the
lights flick by at alarming speed.
I’m not afraid,
the beast will protect me.

As we scream into the station
it vomits out its passengers and is
still for the moment, panting.

Then like a shriek,
the little man in the
tight black suit and black hat
blows his whistle and waves.

Reluctantly, the beast moves again,
building up speed, lurching,
howls back into the night.


                                          

Acid Rain

29 Saturday Jan 2022

Posted by webbywriter1 in poetry, romance, Uncategorized

≈ Comments Off on Acid Rain


Your love is like acid rain,
and me with no umbrella.
It pours down and rips the
flesh from my bones.
It seeps inside my marrow
and destroys me.
I am on my knees
before it.
Did I say?
I love the rain.

Spider Webs

23 Sunday Jan 2022

Posted by webbywriter1 in poetry

≈ Comments Off on Spider Webs

Spider Webs


I walked up the stairs
and felt the clingy fingers grab my arm.
I suppressed a shudder and
pulled off the thin invisible fingers
of webs on my arm.
Like faded dreams of mother gone again,
brother come back.
Things from the past that won’t go away.
They tug at my mind and whisper in
my ear.
They refuse to be put away – forever.
I dust and dust to keep it all clean, and yet,
at night, those spiders,
they come back again.

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