Dec 2015
The full moon haunts me,
it only reminds me of those nights:
The nights that I would sit by my bed,
doors locked and window drapes open.
I would hold the box cutter in one hand and the codeine in the other.
The tears would roll down my face.
The screaming downstairs never stopping.
Wait.
It stopped.
Now there is sobbing and there are sirens.
But the sirens aren't for me,
they belong to the poor woman downstairs.
She obviously didn't see the icicles outside,
with their cold warnings.
Or the man on his porch,
preaching the devil to all that entered my house.
Silly girl,
the man on the moon isn't as kind as he seems.
He loves to come out for death, and death only.
it only reminds me of those nights:
The nights that I would sit by my bed,
doors locked and window drapes open.
I would hold the box cutter in one hand and the codeine in the other.
The tears would roll down my face.
The screaming downstairs never stopping.
Wait.
It stopped.
Now there is sobbing and there are sirens.
But the sirens aren't for me,
they belong to the poor woman downstairs.
She obviously didn't see the icicles outside,
with their cold warnings.
Or the man on his porch,
preaching the devil to all that entered my house.
Silly girl,
the man on the moon isn't as kind as he seems.
He loves to come out for death, and death only.
Wow...this is bad...even for me...*goes and dies* I haven't been able to write poetry recently...oh well. So, here is #4 and now I must do 5-7. UGGHHHH...The prompt for this was:
Here is the painting "Moon Madness" (tempura, 1982) by Andrew Wyeth. Write a poem.
(If the image doesn't come through here, you can type 'moon madness wyeth' into Google and a bunch of images will come up.)
Here is the painting "Moon Madness" (tempura, 1982) by Andrew Wyeth. Write a poem.
(If the image doesn't come through here, you can type 'moon madness wyeth' into Google and a bunch of images will come up.)
