toxic

 

Corridor, Windows, Dark & Light

I remember this anger
the slow-simmering boil
clenched tight just above the gut
that sleepless certainty of knowing
you have been wronged
on every scale.

‘Stupid is as stupid does’
But I’m no Forrest
I can see the trees for what they are
the beginning of a long Heart of Darkness
where everything is warped
and wrong and upside down
because even the mood is toxic

and suddenly I can trace the battle scars
fading into the foreground
like that tattoo you forgot about
or those combat boots out back
grown dusty in the shed
the ones that helped you cross
that violent overgrown desert.

And now it’s time
time to take down the gas-mask
and strap on the worn leather
find your trusted binoculars
the ones without the fancy bits
but excellent night vision
now it is time to get out the maps
the combat notes, the exit strategies
and scout almost-forgotten terrain

because you know this is no joke.
this is as real as it gets
this is the old and known
enemy.

 

© 2017 threegoodwords

hot water

late night, past midnight
and there is yet work to be done

so I top up the bottle
with more hot water
like some comfy hen
wrapping herself up in warm feathers
cluck cluck cluck

except I stopped pretending long ago:

sudden, unpredictable cold
shivering down the spine like
a branch of flashing leaves
in an invisible breeze:
I don’t brave that anymore
like some brazen teen
infatuated with designs of cool
of “what if anyone did see?”

but cuddle up to the hot water
bottled
snug close like a young cat
curled in the crook of my lap
fast asleep, purring
while my eyes droop over keys
fingers slipping, dipping into darkness
those invisible fountain pens
flashing glossy black
on bright white screens.

 

©2017 threegoodwords

friends like these

quietly listening to friends
talk about
the one who went away

wondering
. . .with friends like these
what life did you
friend
lead?

icy in their words and speech
all the apparent warmth
is steeped in derision
so detached
and deliberate in their cleverness

with friends like these
what on earth did you
friend
see
in all of them?

love, here
sounds like a four letter word
with no other substance
than to hurt, insult

though maybe all they are is
exhausted, because you
friend
were not easy to be
with

so maybe all this
is grief, speaking

about the sudden loss
of a human
being
shorn of all niceties
showing the knowing
of what it was to be a
friend
to the you that once was
a me.

 

©2017 threegoodwords

huh

weird, that.

suddenly a
particular certainty’s just
gone

a phone call

et voilà
no more
like they just got up
and walked out
mid-sentence

left the room

except this one’s
time, space
all coordinates

huh

like turning up
at an old house
that was always open
busy, bright

full of weird things
like history, life

and finding the doors locked
all the windows dark
curtains drawn
and one permanent note
taped to the front door:

gone

 

©2017 threegoodwords

niteynite

 

crickets chirping
another kind of silence
love-

leeway is a tricky thing
how much exactly is needed?

all this outside
reflecting off the green
caterwauling
confusing garfieldinfused
day-

dreams are so damn tricky.

reach for the stars
they say, and mean
“not too far”
because events so big
shift horizons
and suck you in

tonight, tonight
so bright

tonight, tonight
you better take care
of that pumpkin patch
before fairy god-

vraaaaaoooooooooooom!
mother******!!
it’s past midnight!!

ah,
these are the times.

©2017 threegoodwords

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