Reno Solo

We met in a whirlwind

throwing caution aside.

First time your lips found

mine, the planets aligned.

The feeling we named love,

our friends called it volatile.

Like an old romantic movie,

we ran to Vegas for our vows.

Impulsive but it felt right.

Now I’m stuck in the middle

of a cyclone, traveling alone.

I’m on my way to Reno with

only sad songs on my mind

Everyone can stare, I’m only

a shell of the woman I was.

Vegas was a dream, almost

perfect, close but no cigar.

I’m on a solo mission now.

Came to town a married lady.

I’ll be leaving carefree, single.

Written for Yeah Write



Paradise became boring after

listening to her husband’s voice

naming the animals one by one.

She wandered around Eden

until she heard another speak.

Cunning serpent told a story

of knowledge, evil and good.

His words sounded musical

like a thousand angels playing

their golden harps, singing.

The juices of forbidden fruit

beckoning her to take a bite.

Her husband found her staring

at the tantalizing fruit in hand.

She held it to his lips knowing

he thought he bit into an apple.

The beguiling reptile laughed

as Eve fed Adam pomegranate.


Written for Yeah Write



http://Image by Pexels on Pixabay


Can you feel my heart
beating rapidly?
I'm holding on to our love
while you're forgetting.
Music plays, we move naturally.
We capture our audience,
hold them in a trance.
Inside I'm slowly dying.
This is our last dance.
You can sign autographs.
I'll be on my way
to the next stage of life
without you guiding me.
You'll miss this one day.

Written for Yeah Write

Continue reading “Dancing”

Street Artist


Street Artist – Pixbay

The ache that settled in

his kneecaps, forgotten.

His artist hands steadily

captured his prophetic

dreams that transitioned

into nightmares, depending

on the happy hour drink

served at some low-class bar.

Tequila brought visions

of the Messiah opening

arms wide to welcome

a drunkard home, forgiven.

Jack Daniels filled his sleeping

mind with childhood, a sister.

He ignored people gathering

around him on the sidewalk.

Money tossed in a western hat

would buy more bourbon, warm

sheets for a night in a cold motel.

It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate

contributions from admirers.

His focus was to put his thoughts

on paper, rid his head of noise.

Written for Yeah Write Challenge # 409