Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
874 · Sep 2011
Aloft
Judy Ponceby Sep 2011
Wisps of arctic
essence circulate in
the atmosphere of being.

Translucent whims
waft among the humid
rushes of desire.

And tremble at
the musical notes
of fulfillment.
For Creative Poetry Group at WritersCafe 7.23.11 Extra Challenge Words: Atmosphere. Circulate. Translucent. Waft. Arctic. Humid. Musical. Wisp.
874 · Nov 2011
Galaylah
Judy Ponceby Nov 2011
She rises from a limpid pool.
Silvery beads cling to flesh
Clothing her in brilliant shimmer.

Lovely shining tresses spiral
Down over slim shoulders
Framing her beautiful face.

Eyes of moon silver, lips of rose
Grace her fair visage.

And I ...

I can do naught, caught as I am
in the dazzling light of her rising.
Inspired by http://pinterest.com/pin/128282289355493987/
871 · Oct 2011
Artistry
Judy Ponceby Oct 2011
A symphony

felt in

vibrations

that make eardrums

thrum

in pleasurable

synchronicity.
inspired at oneword.com in their one minute challenge. really focuses the mind when you only have one minute :D
869 · Nov 2010
Force of Nature (Hmmmm.)
Judy Ponceby Nov 2010
Bonds.
Invisible energy.
Tenous and strong,
Attraction,
Pulling closer,
Holding near.
Atoms.  People.  Solar systems.
The most basic ethereal glue.
Holding life as we know it together.
Electrons orbiting their core.
Planets revolving around their Stars.
Heart strings binding one to another.
Powerful energy contained.
Until bonds are broken.
Causing bursting constellations to flame.
Division, Fission.
Extinction without bonds.
864 · Sep 2010
Summer Fun
Judy Ponceby Sep 2010
Hip hop, gonna stop
on the bright blue square.
Run, jump, fall like a lump.
on the green ground bare.

Laugh and dash, and water splash
in the sunshine sparkle.
Smile and giggle, toes they wiggle
in the black mud darkle.

Playing silly, warm and chilly
dusk is setting in.
Wandering home, all alone,
in the tub again.

Splish, splash, clean in a flash
jammies on real quick.
Bedtime story, oh the glory,
on a dreamland kick.
856 · Jul 2011
Primal Fear
Judy Ponceby Jul 2011
I make the perilous trek

To the front of the class.

My palms dampen.

I pray not too look an ***.



I feel nauseated from the

Butterflies behind my navel.

As I look out across the faces

My voice turns to gravel.



Raspy words escape.

My voice unable to recant

The terror that shakes my words

As I address my audience.



I realize I have many kindred

Among my audience, but

This does nothing to temper the fear

Of Public Speaking 101
For Creative Poetry at WC.  Words:  Navel. Nauseate. Dampen. Kindred. Perilous. Raspy. Recant.
851 · Feb 2011
Snow Day
Judy Ponceby Feb 2011
Snowbeasties lurking out there
Howling loudly in despair.

Hidden in the drifting snow
Innocent sparkling flakes aglow.

Snow devils spinning in a flurry
Causing anxiety and so much worry.

Treacherous roads of ice and snow
Blizzard conditions with arctic flow.

Peering from the frozen window
Snowbeasties dancing to and fro.

Grabbing the cocoa on a tray,
Closings mean we have time to play.
842 · Jan 2011
Razzy
Judy Ponceby Jan 2011
Out on the town
Looking real snazzy.
Hearing the music,
Sounds quite jazzy.

Look over there,
They aren't so choosy.
Bet they buy a drink,
For this old floozie.

Getting all loopy,
Beginning to schmoozie,
Liquored up,
And feeling quite oozie.

Swaying to the music,
Holding on tight,
Hope to stay standing,
But losing the fight.
Razzy. Jazzy.  Schmoozie.  Oozie.  Floozie. Snazzy.  Choosy.
840 · Oct 2010
Dead
Judy Ponceby Oct 2010
Dead.
Ingloriously, unceremoniously dead.
Nothing special.
Just dead.

That one of billions.
Poor bug.
Smashed all over the wall.
Guts flattened.
Bits broken.

No one to care.
Other than the cleaning lady.
When she's done.
No evidence the reaper has been.
836 · Mar 2012
Be Present
Judy Ponceby Mar 2012
Though I walk in silence
I fear not the darkness surrounding me.

The lantern that swings at my side
Guides me through the twisted paths.

I seek only the present
its fulfillment in whole, not past nor future.

Only the forward motion of the lantern
leading me through this moment, then the next.

Its pendulum swing an eternal guide
as it lights the way for my next footfall.

Leaving behind the imprint of
my last step in the darkness.

Seek only now. Know only now.
Live and breathe this moment completely.

It is the essence of life as we move along its path.
836 · Oct 2011
Wasteland
Judy Ponceby Oct 2011
Vast islands of floating debris
Following the ocean currents.
in the Northern Pacific Gyre.

Man made litter
Shaming our species.

Wasteland oasis
Covering hundreds of millions of acres
Of Ocean Blue.

Mother Earth
Polluted, Corrupted
with
a malignancy
needing
eradication.

When? When will we learn??
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Pacific_Garbage_Patch

inspiration from oneword.com
830 · Dec 2010
Phoenix
Judy Ponceby Dec 2010
Ancient mythical being,
Rising from the dying flames,
From the ashes of its death.

Reborn into a new life
To begin again
To start afresh.

Relive a life lived
Continuing to grow
Age, to die in flame.

Refusing the dark
clutches of death.
For the burning joy of life.
829 · Jan 2011
W
Judy Ponceby Jan 2011
W
Wontons.

Wanting wontons.

Wantonly wanting wontons.

Wantonly wanting.

Wantonly.
826 · Oct 2011
The Abode
Judy Ponceby Oct 2011
Creeping about
in the shadows
a ghastly and repugnant
creature
haunts the corners
in sinister deception.

Less than transparent panes
give an ominous feel
to this seemingly
abandoned shell.

Many a child has paused,
fear seizing them
like cold fingers around their throat
only then to run,
to run home to their
warm sanctuary
from all things
evil.

Avoiding,
through extrasensory
knowledge,
the
creature
invoking
the
dread
in their
innocent
hearts.
For Creative Poetry at Writer's Cafe.

Words 10/3:  Transparent.  Haunt.  Shadow.  Deception.  Abode.  Sinister.  Repugnant.  Ghastly.  Ominous.
819 · Feb 2011
(Re) Fright
Judy Ponceby Feb 2011
Sitting quietly in my bed,
blankets pulled up to my nose.
I look out the moonlit window
Moving shadows curl my toes.

Scratching softly at the pane
An imp awaits his time
To seize a moment to call his own.
Causing fright, his fell crime.

To steal away my peace of mind
And gleefully dance at my fear.
He chuckles softly at his impish feats
Spreading his dastardly cheer.

All alone huddled in my bed,
I clutch my flashlight close.
Eyes squinched tight shut
Ears strain to hear, legs ready to flee.

I feel him creeping, slinking,
Lurking, scratching, and giving a chuffle.
Frightened to look and unable to not.
I catch him in the light.  He gives a wicked snuffle.

I hide beneath my blankets
and shriek with fright.
He races about capering, mouth agaping
That wretched imp grins with delight.

Lost in its awful glee, he looks for more tiny tots.
Hoping to set their frightened screams free.
Re-Rewritten, and hopefully to better effect than "Fright".  :)
814 · Sep 2011
Aflame
Judy Ponceby Sep 2011
Searing flames ignite a volcanic
     inferno of need.

Sanguine licks of fire
     consume tempermental flesh.

Fierce, sizzling desire bows
     to wanton pleasure.
813 · Jan 2011
Survival
Judy Ponceby Jan 2011
Flighted wings spread wide,
Snapping on the downstroke,
Moving air, giving lift.

Scouring the land below,
Hunting hidden prey beneath,
Unaware it is being sought.

Heart pounding hard,
Rushing dive,
Crushing blow.

And so life cycles,
Eat or be eaten,
Live or die.
810 · Jan 2011
Early Morning
Judy Ponceby Jan 2011
Celestial characters play across the bedroom ceiling
as the fire's last flickering coals lay dying in the ash.
I lie here, drowsy, covered with the quilted blanket.
The alarm having gone off an hour ago.
I remain huddled in the warmth of the bed
the cold air sharp against my face.
Dreading the launch from warm solace
to the biting cold of reality.
Wondering who in their right mind
decided wood burning heat was
a good idea?
Being ardently opposed to the use
of gas and oil I can only blame myself.
Deciding the trouble isn't worth it
to climb from this fortress of bliss,
I pull the quilt closer and close my eyes.
Then the telephone, ringing, ringing, ringing.
I wonder how many times it will ring until they give up.
Six, seven, ten times.  
I really must get an answering machine someday.
Or maybe not, as I smile to myself and sink
further into my feather tick mattress,
putting off the day for as long as possible.
Charming Fun and Faniciful
Early. Ardent. Warmth. Quilted. Drowsy. Telephone. Celestial.
807 · Oct 2010
Escaping the Horror
Judy Ponceby Oct 2010
Sitting quietly at the table, held in place by rusted shackles,
Embracing my bone-like phalanges in death's grip.
At the fringes of my vision, I note a horrid little creature,
Attempting to circumvent the Master's desire to flay me to pieces.
Begging for my life, as he fears dark aloneness in this drear abode.
The septum wall of my heart barely containing my blood,
As it pounds through its chambers, racing to my extremities, only to return once more,
more slowly, to be reinvigorated with vital oxygen again.
Eyes glazing as the Master approaches, demanding why I should be spared,
When I have disobeyed him, sparing that family from death's harsh embrace.
Shaking in this stone cold chair, my posterior aching from hours of discomfort,
I can only beg mercy of a merciless creature, who's only need of me, is absolute obeyance.
My only ability to coax unsuspecting families to relinquish their souls for this foul creatures pleasure.
My heart recognizing how low I have become to continue with this wretched life.
And, finally with the only spark of humanity remaining to me, I scream my defiance,
And as I had hoped, received a final blow, releasing me from this plane.
For Can you spare a Word or 5?
Septum, Circumvent, Phalanges, Fringes, Posterior
Judy Ponceby Jan 2011
There once was a crazy nurse,
She drove around driving a hearse,
Whenever she hit a victim,
She would cry out "Admit 'em!"
The prognoses couldn't have been worse.
My first limerick ever!  A bit morbid I must say.  Insomnia does strange things to the mind....
778 · Aug 2013
Crows in Threes
Judy Ponceby Aug 2013
crows in threes
beneath the boughs,
bow low to thee
my lady.
775 · May 2012
Lighting the Heavens
Judy Ponceby May 2012
luminous hued
sparkles
blink brightly
in the velvet night
gazing upon enamored
lovers
unaware of their
brilliance.

enthralled
they see
only
the eternal
glow
of
desire
just as brilliant
and burning
as the brightest
suns
in the heavens
773 · Aug 2010
This World
Judy Ponceby Aug 2010
This world is huge.  It's small.  Its infinitesimal and vast.
How did we come by such a beauteous and frightful place.
Out in the cosmos, alone and crowded.
Living our lives in years that are only a blink in time.
What laws of nature bind us?  What freedoms do we possess?
Time rushes by only to stand still.
So many questions.  So many answers.
Which is right?  Which wrong?  Is it only a matter of perception?
Such is the human mind.  Always questioning, contradicting.
Seeking and avoiding.  Creating and destroying.
764 · Nov 2011
Death's Dance
Judy Ponceby Nov 2011
Wildly reeling in the arms of Death.
Moving to the pounding rhythm.
Eyes closed against his emaciated visage.
Heart thudding beat for beat.

Death seeks the living tonight.
Her heart's rhythm aches in his bones.
Her vitality bruises his being.
Her zeal, a wound to his bravado.

And though Death dances
wantonly and with desire,
Warmth and Love
eternally elude him.
Inspired by this photo.....http://pinterest.com/pin/326646445/
762 · Jan 2012
Shades of the Heart
Judy Ponceby Jan 2012
To believe, to leave
In need of reprieve.
This worn, torn heart
beats slow, so slow.
Long past the point
that it could care.
Cared to share
with one once loved.
And now I don't
deceive. I must feel,
and I must grieve
The loss of cherished
memories past.
And feel the aching
as it's breaking
Once more forlorn
the weight's been borne
And slips the harness
to stop the transgress
For peace, for comfort
To heal, to feel....
759 · Jan 2011
The Great Jail Break
Judy Ponceby Jan 2011
Wisty and Schmoo got into a fight,
They gave the warden quite a fright.

Wisty was shoveling with her spoon,
While Schmoo was providing a view of the moon.

Schmoo moved to the left
Leaving Wisty quite bereft,

Of cover in this circumstance.
Leaving the warden looking askance.

Imagine how quick he turned,
When seeing his sentencing about to be spurned.

Schmoo and Wisty started down the tunnel,
Poured themselves through as though through a funnel.

For years they had been hatching a plan,
To escape this jail, get away from the man.

And, now was their chance to find out who,
Could run the fastest, Wisty or Schmoo.

Through the tunnel underground,
Up through the soil, their feet did pound.

Waving to the warden they just knew,
They would escape any second, but for the pile of poo.

Slipped em, tripped em, made them fall,
All the warden could do was call.

Called for the hose, called for the nurse,
threatened them next time with a hearse.

And so ends Wisty and Schmoo's Great Escape.
Nothing more than a muddy scrape.
Who.  Wisty.  Years.  Tunnel.  Turned.  Moved.  Fight.
Charming Fun and Fanciful.
755 · Nov 2010
Instinct
Judy Ponceby Nov 2010
Setting sail across the windswept plains,
Air rushing by, as does the land below,
Wings arching, Slicing through the thin air,
Covering distances unknown.

Searching always for that magnetic compass,
Guiding lines of power encompassing this world.
Soaring over lakes, seas, oceans.
Driven by instinct every spring and fall.

Escaping the winter winds rushing down from the north,
to warmer climes, less frigid temperatures.
Returning yearly to mate, and raise their young,
to continue the cycle, ever moving, ever changing and unchanging.
753 · Sep 2011
Awash
Judy Ponceby Sep 2011
Be thee privy
to the cascading
whispers of the
tides continuous?

To the tranquil
bubbling and splashing
of light, translucent
fluid?

Saturated in the
unpredictable motion
of the flowing
river of a mind
wandering.
751 · Nov 2011
Last Voyage
Judy Ponceby Nov 2011
She made her last voyage.
Rode the waves across the seas.
Delivered her cargo, then set sail
As proud as always.

Until the dark seas grasped
Her hull and sundered it.
Spilling death into her safe harbor.

Tossing her time and time again
Against jagged rocks without reason.
Until sounding a mournful cry
She sank into the depths.

Her crew lost, as was her captain.

And now decades later, her
Broken rusted bow washes ashore.
Surfacing once more, a fine ship
Tortured by the sea gods.

Even the torn edges of metal
and pervasive rust unable
to disguise her proud lines.
Inspired by this photo....http://pinterest.com/pin/164662930095305835/
740 · Jul 2012
C'mere...
Judy Ponceby Jul 2012
C'mere, babe.
Let me wipe those tears away
and still that trembling lip.
Let me wrap these arms around you
and calm your quaking heart
Let me look into your eyes
and steady your uncertainty.

C'mere, babe.
Let me show you what it means
to be seen.
Let me show you what it means
to be heard.
Let me show you what it means
to be touched.

C'mere babe.
Let me teach you to laugh again
Let me teach you to sing again
Let me teach you to dance again.

C'mere babe.

Look at me.

Laugh with me.

Love me.......
737 · Jun 2011
At the Forge
Judy Ponceby Jun 2011
Hammer hard
Fire bright.
Pounding metal
With all my might.

Orange gleaming ore
Glowing craft.
Shaped by hand
Quenched by draught.

Hell's own heat
Makes air singe.
Burning embers
On fiery fringe.

Muscles ache
To the bone.
Making old
Bellows moan.

Shaped with pride
Of hardened steel.
Hone the blade
to razor feel.
737 · Dec 2010
Grief
Judy Ponceby Dec 2010
Raw feelings of heartache spill from my eyes.

Keening cries fall from parted lips.

Body-wracking tremors of sorrow grip me.

Unable to move.
Unable to embrace.
Frozen in time.
Frozen in place.

Sifting my memories for sights, sounds and scents.
Of one cherished, one held so dear.

And, finding these shreds, these threads of memory,
able to fashion a ragged bandage for a shattered heart.
736 · Feb 2011
That Moment
Judy Ponceby Feb 2011
Standing there surrounded by jackals
I look up into the one friendly face
And smile, though I have tears in my eyes.

He smiles gently back, uncertain what is happening,
And with my smile he seems reassured and returns to his work.

The jackals close tighter about me
demanding their remains.
Unable to produce them, having never had them,
I leave them unsatisfied in their defiance.

Heading for the door, feeling them lagging behind.
I feel a great weight lift from my shoulders.
Regret seeps from my eyes, leaving those who knew I cared behind.
But realizing it was a position unsustainable for me.

And that smile from him remains fixed in my memory.
Knowing he knew nothing of their ploys and plans
Knowing the work I did, the care I gave was seen,
Was appreciated by one who matters.

The jackals continue their work
Keep the wheels turning
Only they are missing that single component
That represents what they claim to be about.

Compassion for their fellow humans.
It takes only a moment to change the course of one's life.  
How we look forward, rather than back, determines our destiny.
734 · Sep 2010
Land Ho!
Judy Ponceby Sep 2010
Man the lanyard! Over the sea!
To lands unknown to you and me!

The wind blows south, my merry men.
The ale flows free, to heaven then.

To Sea, to find my heart aflame!
To Sea, to find the dragon's claim!

Salty air, on dark stormy winds
Fair, rock our ship, to pieces then.

Tossing freely, dancing wildly,
Spinning to the rhythmic pounding.

Passing time on deck and mast,
From the crow's nest, we hear at last.

Land **! Land **! Captain!
The very land that has been sought.

Rivers of silver, mountains of gold.
Paradise for Pirates, so I'm told.
733 · Oct 2010
Ancient One
Judy Ponceby Oct 2010
Ancient wise and fearsome, Dragons grab the mind.
Rend the soul. Open your eyes to the delights of gold.*


Reaching forth with one glistening claw,
scraping the earth in a foot deep furrow,
It opens an eye to gaze upon the foolish
who seek its treasure.
And seeing before it a young boy,
gazing in awe, total amazement,
smirks in silent humor.

Puffing out a wisp of smoke,
enamoring the boy even further,
it slowly stretches wide its winges,
making shelter from the icy weather,
for this fearless child of Man.

The gold tinted, rustling scales,
shake the child from his reverie,
and gazing into the creatures eye
He asks in a timid shaky voice,
Mighty one, can you spare a coin?

Staring sharply, at this young sapling of a boy,
daring to request such a heavy toll,
from one such as he.  
The Ancient One, with eye whirling,
reaches under his massive belly and extracts a pence.

And to the boy, breathes "for a price childe, you may have such as this"
The emaciated filthy boy, looks hopefully up at the dragon,
wondering what a price would be for this pence.
And, yet knows that he has no choice but to pay.

For at home, his family suffers terribly from the poverty
brought on by invading tribes from the farlands.
Food taken, cattle slaughtered, family treasures destroyed.
Like so many others, suffering under this retribution,
desparate for the basic neccesities of life.

And from this suffering, born in this young boy,
Courage enough to approach the Ancient One for assistance.
And, so he steps forward, shaking, and bowing his head, asks,
"What price do you require, Ancient One?"

Rumbling deeply in its chest, the dragon considers,
this lowly life form, its obvious need and desparation,
commands, "Return tomorrow, with a robin's egg
and you shall have this pence."
And, closing its eyes, lowering its wings, became still as stone.

And so, hope sprung forth in the young lad's heart,
as he raced to share the news with his family.
That such a treasure should be within his grasp for such a simple request.
And, so begins the story of mentor and student.
With hope for a better future for family and friend.
730 · Oct 2011
Deepening Night
Judy Ponceby Oct 2011
Intertwining boughs
Arch high above
Shading this desolate road.
I walk a solitary path.
Roaming lost in thought
Unaware of the deepening night
Beneath these shadowy limbs.

Owls wake slowly as dusk passes to night.
Wolves catch the scent of prey on the wind.
Whispering hollowly through the trees it
Shares the news of fell deeds done this night

And I alone on this long and lonely road
Feel the danger present in every direction.

Yet, so lost in thought am I,
Unaware of approaching predators.
Until a deep sense of dread
permeates my very soul.

I hear pounding hooves on packed soil
and hurl myself into the clutches of the trees.
I listen as the ******* who would have my head
Continue their flight from the horrid deeds they perpetrated.

Lost and frightened, I stay as I fell,
then exhausted, I sleep,
covered by the brush that clawed at my clothing,
Only to wake in my love's strong arms
As his tears rain upon me at the sweet break of dawn.
725 · Feb 2012
What's Good for You...
Judy Ponceby Feb 2012
Sugar sweet,
Medicine vile.
Mom's so mean
Full of bile.

She always says
now be good.
Gives me meds.
I misunderstood.

This is good?
In what way?
"I'm fine!" I shout.
Throughout the day.

The cough has gone.
The fever fled.
Now leave me mother
I dread that med!

Horrid flavor,
Wretched taste
Makes me shudder
Worse than paste!

Mom's just smilin'
Spoon at the ready.
Knowing better,
"C'mere, Freddy."

She's so mean,
I don't know why.
She used to love me
In days gone by.
711 · Feb 2011
Scattered thoughts...
Judy Ponceby Feb 2011
deep inside the folds of a brain gone awry
lies the myriad broken answers as to why
one should abide by bondaries given
lest one step into territory unshriven
motes of darkness sparks of flame
leaving no one without blame
burnt offerings brought to the fore
useless meanings given by the score
to mindless chatter building tension
unable to voice a word of intention
711 · Feb 2011
Life sparks
Judy Ponceby Feb 2011
Watching the sparks of life
winging around my feeder.

Listening to the chirrup,
tweets, whistles, and calls.

Wondering at the variety
even among such small wonders.

Shapes, colors, behaviors, sizes
every species their own.

Every individual its own.

Wonderous creations.
701 · Oct 2011
From the ether...
Judy Ponceby Oct 2011
the
mysterious
web of waking
dreams

woven

in mid air
above
a vast abyss

lead
eternally

into
the unknown

following
a

single

strand
of
being
698 · Sep 2011
Marching on...
Judy Ponceby Sep 2011
The face of time shows no age.
Merely continues its forward motion.
Marking movement of life and loss
The hands tick ever round and round
Never looking back, always forward
What is, only is, in the moment
And then is not.
697 · Jan 2011
Oh, Again, Frickin' Hell!
Judy Ponceby Jan 2011
**** paperwork,
Makes my brain hurt.

I do the work.
I assess and eval.

I take the vitals.
I provide care.
I ask the questions.
Implement the orders.

I give support.
And what does it matter?

It doesn't.

According to the powers that be.
My paperwork isn't up to *****.

The patients don't matter,
didn't you know.
They don't need those
meds that help them think,
help them cope.
They don't deserve a hug.
They don't deserve attention.

If they miss their appointment
they need not have another.
They blew their chance.

All they want is a magic pill.
News for you, they know there is no such thing.
Would they live the hell they live day to day,
If there was such a thing?

Instead of tolerance and caring for our fellow humans.
Let's put first our stacks of paper and red tape.

Instead of lifting our fellow humans up,
Let's watch them struggle and then turn an uncaring eye.

I don't understand where or when it became so important
to write, instead of to do, or to give, or to care.

Where was I when the memo went out?
Just write it down, let them deal on their own.

Regardless of the fact, that it's within our scope,
To teach, to listen, to care, to support.

Decisions made, past deeds done,
diseases and habits, magnifying human weaknesses.

Make these people no worse than anyone of us,
Only in greater need.

And while watching their struggles, more than once,
I say to myself, "There but for the grace of God, go I."
Called on the carpet again, sighhhhh....
691 · Sep 2011
Manual Whispers
Judy Ponceby Sep 2011
She felt his hands stroke her heaving flanks
Sensitive fingers brushing the dampness.

She leaned into the hands of this man,
Her friend and master for the moment.

Then she whinnied loudly and galloped,
To strut among the jealous herd.
Titled by Frank James Davis, an inspiring sort of fella :)  Despite Frank's opinion, this is becoming a grand collaboration.
Judy Ponceby Mar 2011
So miss the old HP.  This is SOOO difficult to navigate.  How many days has it been and I'm still lost, and its not like I'm not computer literate.  I think the improver got lost in the details and forgot to look at the overall picture, the designer knows what it means to click on something and get the expected change, why if this must happen is there not a help area or a navigation document or something???  So very frustrating I can't concentrate on what I loved to do.  How sad.  I haven't been able to write anything new since these changes because this is where I was comfortable writing, right on this site.  :(  Very unhappy to see many new found friends leaving as well. I posted something I wrote 6 months ago just to see how it would work, but nothing new....sighhhhhhhh.
682 · Feb 2012
....dreams...
Judy Ponceby Feb 2012
slipping silently into your arms
i look up into your warm eyes
and see heaven in them.

my eyes slide lower to those
warm soft lips that ask
softly to be kissed, to be
gently plundered of wet treasure.

i inhale as your warm hands lay
bare upon my arms and pull me into you.

my naked face tipped upwards
longing for your lips to slide
over mine, gently caressing the
curves of my mouth.

my breath warms your skin where
i breathe shallowly and quickly
in anticipation of fulfilling your needs

of fulfilling mine.
681 · Sep 2010
Giving Hope
Judy Ponceby Sep 2010
I sit listening, patiently recording,
Stories of sorrow, pain, and violence.
People expelling the details of their lives,
Seeking assistance for their cares.

Explaining the past in magnified details,
The Voices torturing their minds,
The Visions disturbing their hearts.
So many unbalanced, unstable people.

Victims to past trauma or mental disease.
Attempting to manage their pain and thoughts,
To find a path through.
To find the answer to improve their lives.

I sit explaining, patiently to each,
We cannot change the course of their lives,
It is up to them.
Only try to give them the tools to cope.
Its a long slow process, never a quick cure.

My reward for each encounter, small though it is,
A smile, a look of relief, a look of hope.
Makes the pain endured, the risks taken,
Worth the effort put forth.
675 · Jul 2015
Curiousness
Judy Ponceby Jul 2015
Wizardly wisps of
waspy mists
mingle and tingle
amongst the twists
of gnarly ropes and
knurlish boughs
flung amidst the
whys and hows.
Day 3 of the 5 Day Challenge
671 · Oct 2011
Sigh...
Judy Ponceby Oct 2011
Oh, the folly

of the melancholy

Eschewing the jolly

on life's trolley.
659 · Oct 2011
She Didn't Know...
Judy Ponceby Oct 2011
The pillar of the community
leaned against
the door frame.

He flipped a coin in his hand
as he watched the red clad woman
walk away.

She had no idea of his psychosis.

He opened his hand and looked down.
Thoughts of his special tool case
kept in the hutch at the foot of the stairs
reluctantly left his mind as he sees the
tails on the coin in his palm.

He glances one last time at her
and moves on to other matters.
Words given:   Feet.  Hutch.  Frame.  Pillar.  Psychotic.

Thank you for the help with the editing Frank.  Greatly appreciated! :)
655 · Sep 2011
Misted Nightmares
Judy Ponceby Sep 2011
Misted nightmares seep through crevices of my poorly armored mind.

Seeking entrance to give wretched life to multitudes of hidden fears.

Terror-laden visions gain fodder from life's dark abyss.

Suppressed fear and anguish roiling beneath the surface

Inflict anew the pain and failings of one's existence.

And so, I battle to fend off the failure and loneliness accrued.

Clawing my way to wakefulness in the scream-wracked night.
Next page