More Poetry

Poem inspired by the painting "Beanstalk" by Gordon Onslow

Death by Stalk

Behind the black and white stalk he ran,
Ebony ink dripping from his hands.
"Jackie come back to me!" I demand.
But he climbs on the stalk at my reprimand.

I lick my freshly salted lips,
Sniffing tears between his quips,
He promised I could come this trip.
But he's lied again - I hope he slips.

I stand in my pristine wedding smock
Wanting to climb the ink sopped stalk,
But second guess when I think of the mock
I'd encounter if I stained my white frock.

This was Jack's intention you see
To go alone again, leaving me
So he painted the stalk so colorfully
So I can't join him as a "we."

But Jack spun his web of lies
Of golden geese and massive pies.
The fibs he told were giant size
To hide the truth before my eyes.

Why would you string me along like that?
Like waving a mouse before a cat?
Raise my hopes, then knock me flat
Call me your love, then run like a rat.

At the stem of the stalk I foolishly wait
For Jack to come down and reinstate
The plans that we had for our wedding date,
But it's getting late, and I'm growing irate.

I approach the stalk and carefully linger,
Dipping the dark paint on my finger.
I paint war striped on my cheeks in anger
And morph into the justice bringer.

"SELFISH, STUPID JACK!" I scream,
"You PROMISED me we'd be a team!"
But now all I want, all I can dream
Is to ring your neck, and beat you to cream.

At this thought something finally snaps.
I run to the shed and grab the ax
Behind the stacks of Jack's Giant Land crap,
and run back to the stalk to get back at the sap.

And I chop and slash away at its base -
Tears streaming down my determined face,

And I let out a cry, cause I hate Jack -
And I want to make sure he never comes back.

Sonnet Poem - Pens can't mend hearts

Your weapon of choice - your pen
To Disect my fraying heart.
With written word my friend,
You quip and clip and dart -
Between my sobs of pain -
You lyrically profess
The way you love again
and all feelings I supress.
Your love is true and sure
But it won't fix this wound
For long before your cure,
My Taste for love was ruined.
So fade away and vow
To leave me with my broken crown.

Pastoral Poem - Wisdom in our Wood

Our special place, the hidden wood
Where as small children we knew we could
Run wild like the elk, and free like the wind
And embrace that time without an end

The colors sweep around our world
Emerald, sun toned hues, and gold
Long stemmed grasses bend and bow
Near the bush where the blackberries grow

With purple stained lips we laugh with glee
And believe this is all we'll ever need
As five year olds we are so wise
And see the world through clearer eyes

We grasp our hands and climb our tree
And sit in its branches completley free
From all oppression and thoughts of war
And all was sweet, we knew no sour

We could sip the honeysuckle dew all day
Laughing, in the breeze we sway
And bathe in the cool autumn air
Barefoot, naive, without a care.

As the sun sets low up in the sky
We embrace in moonlight, say goodbye
And dream all night of the secret glen
Where on the morrow we'll meet again.