The Pink Forest…a story poem

the Pink Forest
was made by a Witch
who loved
what I think should be obvious
but for those
in the bleacher seats
she loved
PINK
her hat was pink
so were
her robes
which totally
flew in the face
of TRADITION

EVERYTHING
around her
was PINK
including her broom

okay
maybe not everything 
I mean her familiar
a cat named Tootsie Pop
absolutely refused
to be dyed a different color
and remained black and white
in spite of the pleas from her companion
the promises of tuna fish
and as much catnip she could handle
still
Tootsie sand NO

others stopped by to see
the Pink Forest
and thought it was a bit
MUCH
some said it looked as if the trees
were made of frosting
but there were those who loved
the Pink Forest
and it’s lovely pink trees
those who saw it’s beauty
and majesty
those were the Witches
who visited often
and life gifts for the trees
to thank them for
their magic

 

 

 

Photo:  Wolfgang Hasselmann
Unsplash

I really want a dragon…story poem

 

I really want a dragon
with wings as wide as they can be
a fire breathing dragon
so we can roast marshmallows
when we please
I really want a dragon
a big one
nothing small
I’ll pet her in the morning
feed her cookies, tea and toast
and give her gems
or colored glass
whichever she’d like most
we’ll never stay in one place
unless she wants a cave
and I will call her Sweet One
regardless of her name
I really want a dragon
but Amazon said no
so I guess I’ll go
where dragons live
and find one on my own

 

Photo:  Pixabay

A short story poem…

it was a dark and
lightly clouded night
actually the sky was
quite clear
to be perfectly honest
but it was still scary
since whatever light the moon gave off
didn’t reach the street
and thoughts of
Jack the Ripper
danced through her head
as she pulled her coat tightly
around herself
listening
for the slightest
sound
her body shivering
with the creepiness
she felt
she hoped that dawn
would show itself soon
while she scolded herself
for taking such a chance
just to get an early morning
scone

 

Photo:  Silvan Schuppisser
Unsplash

Christmas tree…

the tree laid in the street
her lights still lit
she couldn’t believe
this was how her life was ending
she’d barely had time to grow
and now she was alone
and dying
she tried to remember
where she sprouted
remember the trees
that had been around her
singing softly
firmly rooted
to the ground
but her memories
were fading fast
she was thirsty
and a little afraid
that’s when she heard a
squeak
and felt her needles move
a tiny mouse was climbing
in her branches
the mouse darted around
twitching and gathering
material for a nest
patting the needles in place
with her pink paws
the mouse turned in a circle
and curled up
her tiny tail
wrapped tightly around her
the tree suddenly felt happy
she was no longer alone
she had a friend
and her lights
were still on

 

Pixabay

Sleeping Beauty…a Story Poem

the story you’ve heard
about Beauty
is a lie
made up by men
who think their
KISS
is
somehow
magical
and
life giving

it’s
a poor
substitute
for actually
bringing life into the world
but men do keep
trying to
be better than
women
at every turn

as if that lie
wasn’t bad enough
we are expected to believe
that when Beauty
woke
she went off with
the guy
who kissed her
and married him
never having MET him
before that very moment
but again
the story was written
to bolster men’s
sagging egos
and make women
look like weak
and desperate
comatose
things
who were
delighted to be
chosen

there’s absolutely
nothing at all
romantic
about being
helpless
and
unconscious
until some creepy stranger
kisses you
but that’s exactly
what little girls
were taught

pretty pathetic
if you ask me
especially
when the truth
of the matter is that
Beauty
took a nap in the woods
and a strange
man found her
and kissed her
after which
she fought him
and sent him on his way
limping and without
his horse
which she kept
as payment
in exchange for not
taking his life

Beauty
was tough
no one kissed her
without her permission
NO ONE
and while she didn’t like
the guy
he did make her laugh
when he told her there was
definitely something wrong
with HER
since ANY WOMAN
would be thrilled to have him

and FYI
she renamed the horse
Smoke
since that’s what the guy’s
dreams went up in

 

 

Picture:  Alice Alinari
Unsplash

 

Arthur…A story poem

for awhile
there was hope
Arthur
took the sword
from the
stone
and everyone believed
that goodness
and better times
would be the result

Arthur
was good
he trusted
those around him
he loved
with an open heart
he wanted peace
and community
but you see
just because someone
wants something
just because someone
is good
honest
and true
doesn’t mean
anything better
will come because of it

the people around
Arthur
those he loved
those he believed
to be honest
and loyal
were not lovable
nor were they trustworthy

it’s always that way
so the
Arthurs’
of the world
carry their
Swords
and
Banners
and sometimes
they have power
and even
crowns
but
no matter
how pure of heart
they may be
no matter how badly
they want peace
and harmony
they can’t change
what people are

and that’s the most
terrible thing
of all

Reality…a story poem

he didn’t know
how beautiful he was
he just knew
the joy inside of him
had to be expressed

he didn’t realize
the world was falling apart
around him
he just
wanted to dance

he didn’t see
how twisted everything
had become
how jaded and deadly
he just wanted to have fun

no one had the heart
to tell him
that what he saw
was an illusion
so they just smiled
and let him keep his dream

and all the while
no one admitted
that everything they saw
was an illusion as well
so they just kept pretending

 

Picture:  Nina Hill
Unsplash

The Apple…A Story poem

Eve
held the apple
gently
against his shoulder
and looked away
he wasn’t sure
if it was poisonous
but he had eaten
everything he found
growing around him
and nothing had
harmed hm
so far

he was tired of being
alone
tired of being
bored
somehow he knew
the apple was dangerous
which only made it
more attractive
the animals around him
were eating the fruit
as it lay on the ground
or pecking at it
while it was still on the tree
so how bad could it be

the wind told him
it was the fruit of
knowledge
but he didn’t know how
knowledge could be
hidden in something
he could eat

so he took a bite
and felt the juice
rundown his chin
and drip onto his chest
delicious
he groaned
closing his eyes
savoring the taste

he picked two more
and finished them
in no time at all

then
he looked at the tree
and saw
that he could
make
a
weapon
out of its branches

and
the knowledge
of violence
was born

 

ChristianNewman
Unsplash

P.S.   I love this photograph so much…I could write a thousand stories about it.  It’s absolutely wonderful.

Hector…A Story poem about a life.

Hector
had what most people
would consider to be a rather
dull life

he got up
ate
went to work
came home
read a bit
ate some more
fed his gold fish
did the dishes
brushed his teeth
then went to bed

the next day
he simply repeated
everything he did the day before

but on a certain
Tuesday
a new person walked into his
antiquarian bookshop

Hector said hello
Jill smiled
and asked for a
First Edition
of her favorite book

while Hector was showing her
his only copy
they began to talk of different things
and time went by quickly

Hector was
late getting home
late having dinner
late feeding his gold fish
late doing the dishes
even late going to bed
he felt terrible
and apologized to his fish
more than once
asking for forgiveness

but the more Hector thought about it
the more he noticed
that being late
hadn’t actually
changed
anything at all

it didn’t seem to matter
when he arrived home
when he ate
when did the dishes
or even when he fed his gold fish
although he still felt badly
about making the fish wait for his food

he looked at the clock next to his chair
and noticed that
it was an hour past his bedtime
he wondered
if staying up a little longer
might be acceptable
after all
he thought
he hadn’t had time to
read the next three chapters
in his book

so Hector
his heart pounding in his chest
picked up the book he had been reading
looked around for any disaster
that might be about to happen
for daring to break
his self-imposed rules
removed his bookmark
and started to read

he woke to the sunlight
coming through the living room window
he was still in his chair
the book open on his lap

for the first time in his entire life
Hector had not slept in his bed

shocked at his own behavior
he quickly went through his daily routine
and set off for work
but when he reached the sidewalk
he noticed that something had changed

and after years
of wondering what it was like
Hector finally realized
that he had been keeping himself
in the dark
and that by breaking his own rules
he had opened his heart
and let his light shine through

that’s when he knew
that he no longer
wanted to be
a cog in the machine
he wanted to be free
and truly
alive

Tech…A story Poem…

no one remembers
the exact date
when people stopped
recognizing facial expressions
and voices

the time
when humans
especially those
under the age of
twenty-one
could only speak through
code and lyrics

eyes closed
they sifted through the music
hoping to catch words
that when put together with others
made sense
and told a story

it started as a game
but it wasn’t long
before it’s all they understood

communication
became a tangled web
of phrases and numbers
riffs and decodable murmurings
the deeper people got into it
the less they wanted to
come out
until some were hooked up to
IV’s
wasting away in specially made chairs
that held them

their vision
became dull and insufficient
for safe mobility
the matrix flashed across the back
of their eyelids
while their headphones and implants
screamed into their minds
until they lost touch with reality

that’s when the anti tech revolution
began
and even though tech was everywhere
and no movement went
undetected
the war to save future generations
while not quickly won

cannot be stopped