ease

an endless sky of yellow-white
takes breaths below the sea,
for as the ship finds bottom rest
I scale another tree.

I see the shore like heron perched
upon the earth's long legs
the waves like drowning men that lurch
their corpses from the dregs

across the water carried, still
until they reach the sand--
an army mortal man can't kill
is left to my command.

a scattered field of bone bleached white
spits glory from its shine;
I reach one hand out, clench it tight,
and call the wreckage mine.

--
Title and the weird picture in my head are prompt.

rain

I cracked dry from the pressure--
drought of hiding
in a barren world where I thought
the way I was
was just for show


and the rain only came back
when I told you no.




--
Title and Vienna Teng's song 'Drought' are prompt.

kiss

it was nothing more than a rainy day
which brought these branches to the ground,
cacophony of falling water splits bark,
plucks blossoms
before they bloom.

she knew all this,
from her vantage under the bridge,
expecting the water to rise.

but instead she found a world mesmerized
by its own chaos--
a river from the sky pouring
just steadily enough
to leave no room for interpretation:
this was the end,
with nothing to cling to

but she remained ankle-deep in the mud,
bare calves flushed grey with rising chill.
it was the progression that most pleased her,
as the tingling crawled up her skin
like cool fingers leaving numbness
in their wake,

as they took from her
all that she was and freely gave,
and left her with nothing but
the taste of indifference on her lips.

for this flow would sweep past
even without her to be carried by it.

--
Title and the rainy day by the creek are prompts. Make that two not poetry days.

bed

spilling cool clarity to the remnants of dreams,
she springs--
pausing only to decide if she's risen,
for this feels more like sky
than bare mattress on skin,
as what has no place as rain
finds her eyes
and sinks within.


--
Title is prompt which led me to this amazing picture.

boat

a leaf carried on ripples
traces basin rim,
as nothing more than fate
prevents meeting the drain;
for however ornate
these patches of rust
the rain will hold her place,
until the water flows no more
from the lips of this cup.


a castle around my moat--
all stone and filigree,
to keep the dreams from dying
in the scorch of summer sun.
though the still water grows hotter,
I am cooled by the tides
as water rushes back to meet the moon.

but lacking a reflection,
I am left to watch the stars
through fingers filtering light--
I can see each constellation
in the freckles on my arms,
but as the midnight rain grows colder,
even these will fade.

and the rumbling clouds above will swirl
and turn a different shade;
with the moon as water's witness
and the sky as castle stone,
I will raise the clear-sky drawbridge
and drink in this night
alone.

--
Title is semi-prompt; mostly this was a free-write stream of consciousness thing. Not feeling particularly poetic today.

shy

water brought an island something to believe in,
more than just a man caught by the winds,
this captured life glorified, described
by the stories
of the pagoda.


as the budding branches above me swirl
and make an ocean of air,
I wonder if the wind-crashing waves of sound
could propel my own dreams higher;
take flight
matching pace with the calls of the gulls
no longer out of place.

as the sky threatens to drown these hopes,
shattering storm into rain,
I wait for it to carry me away.
for the place my life is traveling to
seems to be the wrong destiny--
let ocean currents break these sails
and take me to open sea,

bring me to a place I can live
without my history--
anonymity; and with my death
create legend
from the quiet storm-tossed traveler.


winds of chance once brought man to the stars;
perhaps the spring rain
could do the same for me.


--
Title is prompt, as is this wiki article and the awesome storm that came up as I sat in the car today, tossing the branches in the tree above me so much that they really did sound like ocean waves.