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Suffer Unto Me - photo by Wild Thing

Suffer Unto Me – photo by Wild Thing

Weary he listens
One by one
They come
Seeking absolution

Justifying
The behavior
Hoping this time
Instead of forgiveness
They hear
They did right

Shocked by
Belief in
Their own
Moral superiority
He must guide
In some cases
Yes, admonish them

The sins
Committed
In the name of GOD
Chill his heart

He shakes
With anger
Do they not listen
Each week
To sermons given
Meant to teach
The way

Righteously
He questions
Do they even
Tell truths
Or do they
Withhold deeper sins

Why bother
At all
They will only
Commit their sins
Again, after piously
Listening to gospel
Taking communion

In fury
He delivers
Harsh penance
Saying
“Go and sin no more.”
Knowing they will

He waits
In silence
His anger ebbs
He leaves

Head bowed
He kneels
Crosses himself
“Strengthen me Father …”

Wild Thing ©2017

Promises*

autumn-burdocksm

Autumn Burdock – photo by Wild Thing

A promise given
Received
With joy
Gently placed
In a basket
To be savored
Until its arrival
With expectation
Hopeful days
Pass
It never comes

Another promise
Arrives
In the basket
It goes
Believing again
Only to see
It curls up
Like the other

Soon the basket
Fills with
Withered promises
It’s put away
With the pain
Of being forgotten

More promises
Arrive
Like butterflies
Beautiful
Then flutter away

Leaving behind
Wistful
Knowledge
That it will
Never happen
Which is
Better than
Expectation
Unfulfilled

Wild Thing ©February 18, 2017

*This poem was written for the Prompt 2.17 for the Writing Rebels.
It must suck to have promises made that are never kept. I mean we all know what it’s like, but to be an entire race of people? I think of Standing rock … being Black … Hispanic … all the broken promises made to them & then I am ashamed to bemoan any that have been broken to me. Anyway, I tried to capture that feeling & don’t think I came very close to it … but for what it’s worth. This was my attempt.

Mad Dance

a-day-in-the-sunshine

A Day in Sunshine – Digital Art by Wild Thing

Candle lit hall
Voices … laughter
Wild music
Playing
Some danced
Others ate

Here
Games of chance
There
Fortunes told
Jugglers … acrobats
Weave in and out

An assault
On the senses
Bright … bold
Glittering
Exotic scents
Roving eyes

Above it all
Upon his throne
The King
With jaded eye
Observes all

Buxom women
Vie
For position
He comments
Giggles with
False modesty
Answer him

As if
From thin air
Gold and
Sapphires with
Rubies and
Amethyst appear
Time stops
Or did it

Dashing men
Attempt
At claiming
The bright treasure
Their success
Denied

Its glitter
Captures the eye
Of the King
He watches
The failures
One by one

He must
Possess this
Treasure

As he walks
With purpose
The crowd opens
A path
Before him
Until he stands
Before this beauty

First attempt
Denied
Angered slightly
Bemused greatly
He waits

The treasure moves
Just a bit
To the right
As if
To go around

The king moves
To block
An odd chess
Game begins
A move here
A block there

The King
Suddenly
With a
Hearty laugh
Grabs the treasure
Claims it
For his own

Looking into
The sapphires
His lips kiss
Ruby ones
Golden hair
In his hands

As the treasure
Yielded
It was a mad
Beautiful thing
And the dance
Had just begun

Wild Thing©2017

Prompt 2.14
Writing Rebels

Nonconformity

my-daffodil-van-goghed

Daffodil Van Goghed – digital art by Wild Thing

I . . . am
A nonconformist
I don’t require
Your affirmation

While valuing
Your opinion
It won’t change
How I live
My life or
See myself

I can’t fit
Into the box
You try to put
Me in
Be what you
Want me to be

Who you think
I should be
The role
I should play
In this life

I do this
Not out of
Disrespect
For you
But because
I respect me

I do this
So we each
Can have our
Space to be
Who we each
Were meant
To be

Wild Thing©2017

Prompt 2.12
Writing Rebels

You

thinking-of-you

Thinking of You – photos by Wild Thing

I choose you.
And I’ll choose you,
Over and over

Without pause,
Without doubt,

In a heartbeat.

I’ll keep
Choosing you.

Throughout
The millennia

It will always be

You.

Wild Thing ©January 10, 2017

Remembering the Sweet

063smr

As Night Approaches – photo by Wild Thing

Shared moments
Of a lifetime
Weddings … children
Laughter … tears
Parallel paths
Then veering apart 

Imagined slights
After time
Are repaired
Because the bond
Of shared moments
Was always there 

They can’t be stripped
Away from mind
Or from the soul
It is this …
That holds us up 

Bitterness put away
Only the sweet
Allowed to remain
Telling others
“There was the time …”
Smiling through tears

Wild Thing ©2016