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

summer, evening

image

under the dawn-dusk sky
clumps of water are shot
spray high
foam white
descending in a liquid rush
crashing, splashing
into whisking green waves
grey blue black
flashing sharply on the crest
reminiscent of an ocean.

ghostly
bulbs of light
waver below
like subs rising, worlds sinking
flashing mutely in the lively dark
almost holy

while the young sit, stand
untouched
drinking once-sacred cups
raised in honour
to an ancient god
silently slipping between living bodies
blessing few
anointing all.

© 2015 threegoowords

07/04

fireworks black and white stellaresque42dottumblrdotcom

July Fourth and they were all in New Jersey at a grand cook-out in Inez’ parent’s back yard. Inez had invited everyone, and almost all had come: Chloë and someone new by the name of Will (Nicolas was hi-sto-ry, oh, you wouldn’t believe), Clarissa with her Greg, who had recently been promoted to ‘the love of her life’ (though she still wasn’t sure if he wasn’t seeing someone else ‘on the sly’), Olivieri with Rachel (calm and content as always) and Matisen alone. He’d decided Inez had to have some hot cousin he could chat up and talk into God-knew-what, Lana didn’t even want to know.

By the look of it he was succeeding very well with a certain Isabella, it was depressing really. Never mind all that, there was her, Lana with Timothy, Timothy who had his arm around her whenever he could. There were tables and chairs set up in small groups, children racing around, the Santa Cruz talking and laughing animatedly, merengue cascading out of the enormous stereo on the veranda, one whole side of the garden an enormous smorgasbord of delicious food. The sky was wonderfully blue, the parade worth seeing, and everyone happy to have a day off to celebrate.

Lana was already on her third margarita, her fingers still sticky from the fantastic barbecue, not that she was complaining, Inez’ family really knew their food. She was anyway laughing at Inez, who couldn’t stop grumbling about another suitor her family had set her up with, this time a certain Ramón. He seemed quite nice, not bad-looking either, but Inez ‘so didn’t care’, though she remained polite. ice cream 5 crème graclée saveursvegetales dot comThey all meandered from table to table, listened in to wild stories about the Santa Cruz’ life in New Jersey, laughing with everyone, and generally had a really good time. Every now and then Timothy would pull Lana close and kiss her lips, always gently with a hint of more, making Inez’ mother wink at Lana and then give her daughter a telling look that made Inez sigh and roll her eyes.

July Fourth and it turned out to be one of the few days in a long while where Lana was just happy to be where she was, with her friends and Timothy, her surrogate family. July Fourth and for a few hours Lana was just happy to be alive.

© 2015 threegoodwords

white stairs

ice cream 3 laurenconrad dot com

quiet steps
across sunny stone
scaling the depth of summer

white stairs
solemnly clear
bright
in their commemoration
of a cruel time

now used daily
as a resting place
by those visiting from abroad.

*

after sunset
voices rise
to glasses raised

laughter rippling
across fountains
sparkling in fanning light

lives lived
among strangers
together
on ancient steps
once built by a great power

then everpresent
now lying low
among the weathered stone

remembered
but no longer known.

© 2015 threegoodwords

 

what life is for

travel for romance _ Are u one of us _bloglovin'

shades of blue
highlighting dusk

summer quiet in the streets

warmth descending
flames flickering
on blackened wicks

lighting an evening

where stories are told
in many voices
laughter filling the dark

never mind messages
sent and received
shining off polished screens

this here
is what life is for:
hours of togetherness
moments of bliss.

© 2015 threegoodwords

Anna Fonte's Paper Planes

Words, images & collages tossed from a window.

Classic Jenisms

Essays, notes & interviews on why literary fiction matters to human living

von reuth

small press. great publishing.

a thousand and one books

but don't take my word for it

Kristiane Writes

Home hub & scribble space of Prose Writer & Poet Kristiane Weeks-Rogers (she/hers), author of poetry collection: 'Self-Anointment with Lemons'.

The 100 Greatest Books Challenge

A journey from one end of the bookshelf to the other