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[TD1]

Unobtainable

Trees line the path we walk along.
Their roots, no doubt, are deep below
Involved in intimate processes
Such as seeking water.
Those roots entangle and conjoin.

King Arthur fought here, once upon a myth
And tried to forge a unity from disorder.
So goes the local legend,
She reminds me, and I must agree.
It was a noble venture which he joined.

He failed, of course, and only trees still heed
Arthur's philosophy.
She smiles. Knows I pontificate. I smile back.
Pontifex maximus, the pope, drew reins upon
A continent and beyond, I say.

Again, the smile, but Luther came, she says.
Sage nod. We are approaching our path's end;
We must part soon.

I reach towards her hand, thinking of Arthur who fought here,
Seeking to embody a tree philosophy,
But she is gone
And we have reached the end.

Xxxz

Will probably do something for the others later. Prompt: coffee or tea.

[TD1]

Betrayal

A needle through its eye, his sword has pierced my chest.
To think that I, who studied well anatomy, had not known
Could not know
The shade of red which wells from such a wound,
The tangy smell of iron in the air.
His blade is through my heart, I know,
And death is writ upon my unturned pages.

Still, let it not be said that fate has lacking
Nor that such a lacking be in making jokes,
For fate has frozen time for me to think,
Reflect,
Remember.
Dread.

Oh cosmic comedy! I saw him first
When with autumnal glory
The heavens burned
And fire was in his eye, a flame within responding.

All I did was smile. It was enough.

The winter came, but love warmed us
And through season and fallow we lived
Together in all things.

In time, our children took in hand the fields
And went a-blackberrying
Down through the hedges which he knew.

The songs they sang, ah, how they’d pierce a heart.

But it was not enough. His face which loomed
And wreathed in memory the face of love
Was like a well-worn path too often walked.

It was only once.

But he knew.

His sword is through my heart. How funny, now, to think
About the past betrayals. The love-yous and the see-you-laters
Which were never meant.

But in my way, I did love him. And as I die,
I do not think of stolen moments with some other
Nor repent upon the cusp of death.

Instead, I look him in the eyes
Recalling how I met him first
And all the flames which warmed us.

[Tomasque]

I joined a creative writing class to get some motivation to write poetry. I thought I'd spread some here, too.

Prompt: Turn a famous monologue into a poem
Alternate Prompt: Cyberpunk

[Tomasque]

Been staring at the screen for a while. Here's what I've come up with.

Bright streaks and muddy skies
where once were stars.
Young kids make horoscopes
of passing cars.

Baby steps, I guess. I'll write something more, later.

[Tomasque]

Not cyberpunk, but this is where the prompt led my wandering mind to, so it counts.

Beneath the vault of heaven,
I gaze upon the stars.
For staying out past seven
I'm locked in iron bars.

I'm woken in the morning
to greet the splendent dawn,
then let go with a warning
by the goodwill of The Khan.

[Tomasque]

Prompt: An empty room

[Tomasque]

Four walls and a door;
A bare wooden floor.
That’s not all I’m leaving behind.

Where once stood the bed,
I stand now, instead,
To feel its weight in my mind.

And ghosts of those books,
Still tucked in their nooks,
Hang so where I tore down the shelf.

Four walls and a door,
And yet so much more.
I leave, and leave part of myself.

[Tomasque]

Prompt: Voyage

[Tomasque]

The winds are rough,
The clouds are dark,
The skies are looking grim.

But not enough
To keep this ark
From sailing past the Rim.

No world too far,
No night too deep
to keep us from the dawn.

Farewell, dead star,
we'll wake from sleep
beneath Aldebaran.

[Tomasque]

Prompt: Invisible Cities

[Tomasque]

The city, built where dunes and waters meet;
The place to which those weary pilgrims ride.
Some come in search of shelter from the heat,
Some enter seeking solace from the tide.

The camel-driver sees its distant roofs,
Believing them the sails of a ship,
And - aching from the trek on camel's hoofs -
Imagines now a sleek Atlantic trip.

But in the port, the flags of distant lands
that sway - like marching camels - in the breeze
give captains thoughts of treks through open sands
away from crowded cabins on the seas.

One city, yet two ways it can be seen;
Two deserts, one mirage built in-between.

[Tomasque]

Prompt: Dungeon

[Tomasque]

The Gorge

At last, you'll find the place
Where twine and trail
Behind you leave no trace;
Where maps will fail.

Make peace with gods of man
Before you look:
Below you is the Plan
That they forsook.

[Tomasque]

Prompt: Souvenir

[Tomasque]

The road trip charm, the Christmas cheer.
The untouched snow of a brand new year.
Our lives moved on; I kept them here,
Inside my snow globe souvenir.