Burn: April PAD – Day 19

REFINED

It happens when you’ve been rubbed the wrong way.
It’s simple physics: building friction, harmful diction, sparks may fly.
Tension and confrontation pound with the potential to be abstergents
for your character, if you so chose.
Baptism by fire fissures into a schism where you must decide
who you are: burned and scarred, refined and cleansed, pained or marred.
The flame lacks mercy, discernment, and phlegmatic disposition,
but your burn carries the memory of hurt, healing, and action.
Let it smart till your heart finds the salve it needs.
Let it burn till the flame no longer breathes.

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How are you doing with your poem-a-day journey? I have been writing, but offline. Sorry I haven’t kept you all in the loop, but you’re getting to read the best ones.

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I write about fire a lot. Do you think this would be a good theme for a collection?

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In Case of: April PAD – Day 11

In Case of Heat

This heat between us
curls up, asleep in its turmoil
blowing spits of recycled air
at our toes. This heat manages
a space that should not exist
between the narrow flanks of a single bed,
but yet weighted we boil, stirred by
a breeze conditioned to burrow
and tarnish the hollow ground
on which we totter.
This heat beats our words
in a tongue-race, pushing silence
and miscommunication into our night
time prayers, blanketed with layers of
the unsaid –snug, content, complacent–
it lies here between our backs
as they face each other a bedtime standoff
after a passive disagreement, though we
should not call it that. The heat allows
no combat or fireworks to identify
where there may be bleeding,
but blood is here, sweltering between
our parallel spines as this unbearable heat
conceals our withdrawn weapons in sweaty sheets
and releases murmurs about the morning maintenance.
The heat reveals no fix this malady, no wrench
to lessen this wedge, no ice to calm its destruction.

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So much catching up to do!

Instructional: April PAD – Day 8

CHANGE DELIVERED

No one tells you how it will come.
It may arrive in an envelope,
tattered from its travels
or severely stark and crisp,
and just like this,
it begins to change your life.

No one tells you how it will come.
Line after line of anticipation
till you read of their regrets to inform,
their approval or denial,
their pleasure in receiving
your correspondence.

No one tells you how it will come,
but come it will, and there you stand
staring at a tri-folded page
considering the age of your wait:
the one gone or the one to come–
incoming or outgoing patient.

No one tells you how it will come,
but it arrives with a prescription,
a list, and maladies to avoid:
inaction, complacency, fear.
No one tells you how it will come,
because no one knows how to prepare.

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Check out http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/2013-april-pad-challenge-day-8 for today’s challenge attempts. Leave comments on the ones you like 🙂