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
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
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
