April 9 ’10: Longevity

April 9, 2010 § 9 Comments

Have the gurus at ReadWritePoem never heard of Friday night? The night that ends a work week? The night that begins the Sabbath, the night it feels so good to go home and do nothing? All my whining is about today’s prompt which has so many things to do when all I want to do is have a glass of wine and relax. That said, I had fun.

  • Use at least twelve words from this list: flap, winter, torch, pail, jug, strum, lever, massage, octopus, marionette, stow, pumice, rug, jam, limp, campfire, startle, wattle, bruise, chimney, tome, talon, fringe, walker;
  • Include something that tastes terrible;
  • Include some part (from a few words to several lines) of a previous poem that didn’t quite pan out; and
  • Include a sound that makes you happy.

I don’t like marmite, I do like chimes, and “unmapped woody hills” is from a draft that never went anywhere.

 
Longevity

I’m winter in unmapped woody hills.
You’re an octopus massage.
I’m bloody in an ermine trap.
You’re mustard fringe on aging suede.
I’m the talon that scrapes you raw.
You feed me marmite instead of jam.
I strum your wattle, and press your bruise.
You put pumice in my salad.

We startle, limp in tandem.
Head the walkers across the dust.  
Douse the campfire.
Watch the stars. 

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