Saturday, April 25, 2009

In Moments Before Death

The Square

a writing exercise from http://picturespoetryprose.blogspot.com/
and how I feel right now...



I stood in the square alone. The other people passed by. Other people with their dreams, their fears, their memories. I felt so separated. I had dreams, and fears and memories, but they seemed surreal to me at that moment. I felt as if I was on the brim of waking from a long and confusing dream. All the tension left me. All the thoughts floated from my mind. Nothing was left but a grin on my face. I could do anything I wanted at that moment. I felt that I had wings. I could walk through walls. I could breathe under water. I could fly. I walked myself straight out of the square and saw the glow of light on the horizon. Too late for sunset, and too early for sunrise, I wondered only briefly what it was. I steadied my pace, my hands in my pockets, my smile just as large. I could smile like this forever, and forever I would. Suddenly, I stopped and looked up. The world spun and the lights became lines that swirled around me. The sky became darker. I could hear footsteps and voices, but they seemed far away. As far away as my cares. You could say I fell asleep, but for me, it was as if I had woken up.


Cynthia Smallwood
April 25th, 2009

Saturday, April 11, 2009

After the Funeral...

Johnny stepped from the tattoo shop and knew...

a writing exercise from http://picturespoetryprose.blogspot.com/





Johnny stepped from the tattoo shop
and knew what she would think.
The most important woman in his life
on his arm in permanent ink.

He sighed and sat on his bike,
the pain fresh in his mind.
The rose which he gave her that morning
now on his body to remind.

The night wind gently blew his hair
as he put his helmet on.
He'd have to ride towards a different life
but he'd never forget his MOM.


Cynthia Smallwood
April 11th, 2009

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Abandoned...

A writing exercise from http://picturespoetryprose.blogspot.com/ 

 

Glistening cheeks cradle 
eyes of red 
A young woman out of 
tears to shed 
Blankly stare at the key 
turn the knob 
Dehydrated and starved 
break down, sob 

He called when he clocked in 
one more week 
Until Wedding, Honeymoon 
on the beach 
Made some coffee; drink, sit, 
plan the day 
She turned on the tv and 
saw the plane 

Grabbing her shoes, forgot 
her hot drink 
Didn't know where to go, 
what to think 
Stepping inside now to 
see this morn 
Sunrise so hopeful, but 
sunset torn 

Never ever forget 
why he died 
Why you are now alone 
not a Bride 
Because war needs a push, 
not a win, 
Till the Federal Reserve's 
profits come in... 



Cynthia Smallwood 
April 8th, 2009