Halloween

Through moral mist we’ve claimed our pleasure’s good.
On Halloween the candy was a treat.
The apple from the midnight witch was sweet.
We counted every coin. Our fevers could
continue pleasure, rightly ours. Or, should
we punish doing tricks out in the street,
manipulating weaker ones we meet?
Our unknown sin was doing what we would.

This is the final stanza for Linda Kruschke’s month of octaves using Paint Chip words. I used “mist” and “midnight” as the prompt words. This is also written for Eugenia’s Thursday Prompt where the theme is Halloween.

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Haunting

My memory is like gray rolling hills
where smoke and ash and haunting dragons hide
the sins I have forgotten through my pride
and could repeat should pleasure offer thrills.
The consequences though would give me chills
were I aware. Main paths are much too wide.
The narrow one’s too slippery? May I slide
into the hands of God whose Spirit fills.

Linda Kruschke offers new Paint Chip phrases for this week’s octave. Eugenia offers “haunting” as her Thursday Prompt.

Afterglow

The afterglow is pleasant, but the night
that follows buries me with guilty stress.
A spirit rock lacks any means to bless.
It offers stuff a ghost might hint brings light.
I want what’s moral, truly moral, right.
No grizzly olive branch can clean this mess.
It’s dark. I’ve lost my way so I confess,
again, and may this time my way stay bright.

Eugenia offers “afterglow” for this week’s prompt. Linda Kruschke offers new paint chip words for a continuation of a poem of octaves. I used “spirit rock”, “ghost”, “grizzly” and “olive branch” which continues Unknown Sin.

Unknown Sin

It’s bittersweet recalling unknown sin
provided there’s repentance at the end
that offers peace that a clean heart can tend
to find the righteous path and try again.
Without that bramble our new hearts may win
to change direction, toss our current trend,
and find the narrow way around the bend
that lets at last the Holy Spirit in.

Linda Kruschke continues with “octaves” in her weekly Paint Chip Challenge.

Sparkle Like Sunshine

A bouquet’s like a bluebird who
without a sound knows what to do
and vintage turquoise like the sky.
The evening comes so let us try
to understand like deep dark wood
and do in darkness what is good
when daylight trusts us on our own.
Let’s sparkle as deep truth we’ve known.

Based on prompts by Eugenia and Linda Kruschke.

End and Beginning

Cotton candy sunny side up.
Be the cream of the crop.
Sustain your faith. Persevere.
The end is near when evil stops.

Inspired by prompts from Linda Kruschke and Eugenia.

A Scarecrow’s Gratitude

Those ravens are black
and that fact is exact,
but a moonstone’s no moon
though there’s room to presume
that these wheat fields have wheat
and a scarecrow’s a beast.

Thus he cheerfully thinks
as the day flips to night
giving all gracious thanks
while the sun leaves the sky.

Linda Kruschke offers slant rhyme for this week’s Paint Chip poetry challenge.

Purple Moon or Black Hole

I much prefer a purple moon,
a wonder I can see,
than any black hole scientists
might think that there might be,
but that’s just me, admittedly,
preferring what I see.

Written in response to prompts by Eugenia and Linda Kruschke.

Midnight

At midnight taking a breath of fresh air
without the moon nor others on the street
I pray that my imaginations there
are those from God who makes the breathing sweet.

Motivated by prompts from Eugenia and Linda Kruschke.

The Pilgrims Reach the River

From deep-sea vent to ice cap peak
we followed where the trail led.
The breath of God would to us speak.

We let hope shine upon each cheek.
We faithfully faced doubt and dread
from deep-sea vent to ice cap peak.

At places where the way was bleak
we listened as the words were read.
The breath of God would to us speak.

This pilgrimage is for the meek,
for those believing what was said
from deep-sea vent to ice cap peak.

This is a river, not some creek.
To those who fear we’d seem as dead.
The breath of God would to us speak.

Euphoria is what we seek
where there is more than mortal bread.
From deep-sea vent to ice cap peak
the breath of God would to us speak.

This villanelle is motivated by Linda Kruschke’s Paint Chip Prompt.

Short Letter to a Self-Centered Dream That Wasted Much Time

Looking back I tried to do
the black cat things you teased me to.
Convinced that what you spoke was true
with night owl eyes I followed you.

You’re tongue-tied. Good, but I still thirst
and relish for a fresh sunburst.

Inspired by a prompt at Linda Kruschke’s Paint Chip challenge.

Ubi Sunt

Long ago we studied here when it was still a place.
Your name I have forgotten, but I still can see your face.
And others, too, their words we heard. I hear them still today
with spring pizzazz and peachy smiles before we went away.

---

Linda Kruschke prompts us to write an “ubi sunt” (where are they?) poem this week for her Paint Chip Challenge.

Blank Canvas

The seedling blooms like lavender.
The golden sunlight shines and we
remember all, the way things were.

Forgive, we do, each enemy.
No secret shadows stand today.
Forgive us, too, both you and me.

Now every tear that turned life gray,
that smeared our pasts into a blur,
He’s wiped away, He’s wiped away.

Written for Linda Kruschke’s Paint Chip challenge.

Celebration

In faded denim, rosy blush,
he offers her a polished stone
from water where the rivers rush.
She knows that she is not alone.
In greens and yellow, alpine light,
Today the festive way is bright.

Inspired by two prompts, Eugenia’s Thursday Prompt and Linda Kruschke’s Paint Chip Challenge.

Loss

In your eyes I saw clear skies
before the rain that day.
All left at once out of the blue,
the sunshine and the sunflower, too,
the hot sauce zest for life I knew.
Our margarita laughing pool
shut down. You went away.

Inspired by Linda Kruschke’s Paint Chip challenge for this week using ten of fifteen offered phrases coming from paint chip samples. Optionally, the theme could be about “someone you love and miss”.

Dreaming Mind

A tiny trinket out of jade
deceptively was smoothly made.
I bought it. Why? I do not know.
My dreaming mind got caught, went slow.
I wonder now how much I paid.

Motivated by Linda Kruschke’s Paint Chip challenge.

Mother’s Day

Gaia really wasn’t there
the way my mother was.
The full moon of the night or dawn
were never heartbeats I’d count on
the way my mother’s was.

Written for Linda Kruschke’s Paint Chip challenge for Mother’s Day.

Way

There’s quicksand by the pearly gates
for those who wander off the way,
who love the breezy, sleazy mud.
Then pleasure pops – another dud.
On pins and needles now they say,
“Let’s try again!” And there they stay.

Based on a prompt by Linda Kruschke for her Paint Chip challenge.

Swamp

On top the swamp is plain to see –
below, a rotting misery.
The light green algae doesn’t know.
The darkness doesn’t want to show
the fruits of deep, defiling sin.
There’s quicksand should you venture in.

Motivated by a prompt from Linda Kruschke’s Paint Chip Challenge.

The Night of the Jack-O’-Lantern

The jack-o’-lantern’s hollow nose
turned darkly down on Antique Rose.
Its scornful eyes pierced Mistletoe.
Its toothy mouth warned them to go:
“It’s easy peasy in the street
Where greens and pinks and yellows meet.”
But pleasure wasn’t why they came.
No morbid magic, flashing flame
Could substitute for righteous light.
They stood their ground, prepared to fight.

The jack-o’-lantern burnt all night.

Its pride at dawn collapsed within.
Mistletoe knew they would win
And so did joyful Antique Rose.
Their faith like Mustard Seed’s still grows.

This poem is motivated by a prompt to write a narrative poem using a list of Paint Chip words selected by Linda Kruschke.

Rabbit Hole

I used to love my rabbit hole
so dark with death and dirt.
When Jesus bopped my rabbit ears,
washed my clothes, released my fears….
These tears of joy don’t hurt.

Inspired by a prompt from Linda Kruschke.