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

 

Street Artist

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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 

Poem for The Sunday Whirl

It’s been awhile since I have written in my blog.  Mostly due to doing everything from my cellphone instead of my laptop. Here is my take for the The Sunday Whirl. Maybe this will be the week to pick back up on my writing.

 

 

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Losing you is still too fresh

to work through all my grief.

My eyes sting with tears

I cannot shed, shock I suppose.

Trying to gather my thoughts

so I can remember your smile

long after mine has faded away.

It’s almost like betrayal

to live my life in peace.

The autumn chill is setting in.

Wish I could fly South for winter

and never look back on Spring.

Train whistle blows in the distance.

I touch up my make-up for no one.

Beside a tree trunk, I pause,

waiting for my mind to remember

how to inhale and exhale.

Breathing has become tricky

these days with you gone.

 

 

@Donetta Sifford 9-2-2018

 

My 1st Erasure Poem

How To Stop Time
This is the excerpt I chose from “How to Stop Time” by Matt Haig

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[Image from Page 3 of “How to Stop Time” by Matt Haig. Most of the image has been blacked out to read:

Santa Barbara

years bored

pleasant.

Heaven with traffic.

Drank wine.

Going mad,

panic attacks.

Lived centuries.

Witnessed war,

revolutions.

Waking up

my heart going crazy.

Feeling trapped

inside myself.

Something.

Los Angeles

calmed you.]

This is my first try at Erasure Poetry for Yeah Write.    I only use my mobile phone so I didn’t have a lot of options to black the words out. I’m not tech savvy enough to use another.

It Was Fun

Riding around, top down, under the sun.

Your smile, your style, you could have been the one.

It wasn’t love but it was fun.

Laughter fades, sunlight turns to rain, look what we’ve become.

Driving away, leaving me behind, it can’t be undone.

Looking back now, I see clearly somehow.

It wasn’t love but it was fun.

 

Written by: Donetta Sifford for Yeah Write 305