Whose Eyes Weep



Yves at Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie runs a daily writing challenge and I’ve enjoyed taking part in a few. The weekly Wordle challenge suggests twelve words, at least ten of which should be used to write about anything.

I saw  the words above and the following is what came to mind. 


Engorged on all that junk

each directed needlepoint a fistula

incinerating you from inside out

burning radiated channels

elation to deflation in your

diametric highs and lows

dwindling your stature

estimation in those eyes

watching helplessly your ass

hauled to every cheap bazaar

sick rendezvous to purloin

by all means

to scheme and barter

forgotten all forebodings of disaster

while your cantillations

protest all addiction

and whose eyes weep


Sunburnt Skies-Part 2: Promise

A promise and hope. Richard fills the void with eloquence. He might even be persuaded to write a part three. I’m hoping so!

Richard M. Ankers - Author

For Anne-Marie because she said she’d beat me up if I didn’t write a sequel, or something like that 😉

Mine was a world of liquid ash and starved light. The planet’s ire pooled as charcoaled evening for the longest time. Whether night or day, I could neither tell nor care, as my rowboat became marooned in an ocean of near solidity. Like mankind’s dreams, the world of deserted gods knew the nothingness of a parent’s rebuke.

I saw nothing in my ocean sojourn to suggest the world cleansed. No birds took to those turbulent skies, no fish to be seen beneath the congealed surf, all was lost. My sole comfort, the inner peace of knowing I had done the right thing eased my woes, but not much. I missed her so, you see. I saw her face in the brooding clouds, the staggered wind and most of all my…

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True Grit

You will walk away from me

and I will cry

fade into the distance

with your head held high

coxcombed presence

always strut to spare

prestige apparent

in dismissive air

You will turn your back on them

and they will cry

wonder if some wrong they’ve done

you will lie

never to their face

that’s not your style

minions do it for you

versions take a while

You will diminish

as more folk cry

unfinished business

while we question why

run motherfuckers

we’ve no time to spare

lost all your rights to us

when you showed no care

You will disappear

and we will cry

relief in our bosoms

as we watch you die

pity perished

when you buried it

truth became a legend

when we held with grit