Sunday, October 22, 2017

Confessions


Morgue File
froggidonna



when she bared her soul it was too late
her words slack in the wind
eyes rimmed in red

her nails hung to dry
blistering on bent nails
in aged sun

when she swore allegiance
it was only to tiny gods

the ones whose noses she had wiped
at noon
the ones whose hair she had braided
at dusk

her words litter hallways
never swept
her heart
a welcome mat



copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt

Posted for Poets United Pantry


Note: I am not sure where this one came from or what it really means yet--it feels unfinished, but not sure where to take it just yet

Sunday, October 8, 2017

Learning Braille









MorgueFile
lauramusikanski



stillness hangs taut
like stories embroidered
on monk's cloth

its weave loose
until my needle jabs through

i know each thread

colors carefully chosen,
shelf paper
for naked cupboards 

smiling crookedly at the oddities
that floss has created

i lay my fingers
on top
and read
each tale

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2017

Posted for Poets United

Sunday, September 10, 2017

The Function of Mud



MorgueFile
kconners



i stand in the middle of the floor
toes pointing north
heart pulling west
toward the dirt and moss
where you lie

my feet can't move
they have forgotten how

i would bury them with you
so you could teach them
right from left,
teach my heart to beat again

instead, i stuff dirt into my mouth
swallow its grit
feel it follow veins

i am a golem
in the dark

but only until the next tear
falls
turning my feet to mud


copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2017

posted for Poets   and for dVerse

Thursday, August 17, 2017

The Price of Gold





Flame Artwork by Audrey Howitt



on the advice of counsel
he threads lies with metallic colors
twisting them into Gordian knots of deceit
to make them more attractive
to starved eyes.

he sits on glittering mountains
counts gold
with sinful fingers, as he
pulls himself up to view the horizon
eyes shaded against the pale light.

overcome by his own beauty,
he fails to see
anything.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2017







Wednesday, August 9, 2017

Fragile Lives



i sit, cracks iridescent
in blues and greens,
the color of the ocean,
of the sky on a clear day.

the softness of my sadness
has filled each crack slowly
time's trowel
busy with the memory's putty

i trace each line
replete,
as i am reshaped.

i am fine with that

after all,
i love blue and green.



copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2017


Note: Kintsugi (golden joinery), also known as Kintsukuroi (golden repair) is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver or platinum to highlight imperfections.(Wikipedia)

Sunday, July 30, 2017

Sasha

Sasha


some losses are boats

built of unknown timber
they float between piers
unmoored

i wrestle with their gunnels
feel the nature
of the woods used
for hull and rail
which separate me from
water's long, hard swallow

i trace whorls
sanded and varnished
smoothed by long fingers

i hug myself hard
on salty air
hold fast
and remember to breathe

copyright/all rights reserved 2017


We had to say good bye to my darling girl two weeks ago.  I am a bit adrift.

Sunday, May 28, 2017

Patience Frayed



MorgueFile
by Galina Gorlova

words fail
their tricks
subtly fraying
the edges of patience
until all i have left
is silence


copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2017

posted for Poets United

after a dry spell. I did NaPoWriMo elsewhere than my blog--and wrote nothing at all for days afterward--