rebirth under moon
agitate prone muscles, burn
shape shift huntress, slay
ardent liaison with self
revenge body, pulls hot flames
Folding wings against spine watching.
Ward never listens, not even to gypsy.
Gypsy said, your true love will not be handsome.
His heart will be rarer than platinum.
Ward creased her face, rejecting idea.
Ward is beautiful, thinks she earned handsome.
She smiles at just met stranger, my countenance drops.
Can’t she see muscles oiled by incarceration?
His grandmother stands, clueless aside check cashing place.
I blow wind, knocking away her cane. She falters.
Oiled Muscle’s flirt never ceases, large man catches grandma.
‘Hey this how you treat your momma?’
Ward, shook, stares at man.
Scared face, work injury. Cradling grandma likes she’s his.
Grandma staring wondrous, rarely receiving care.
‘Are you God?’
Ward’s eyes open, sees Muscle’s eyes on her breast, thighs, purse.
Computes the check cashing situation, sees the deficits.
Smiles at Sir stilling tending grandma, “you can put her down.”
“I’ll walk her home.”
Muscles chimes in yeah, we got this.
“No”, Ward warns, “I got this. You want me to walk you home Ms. Jean?”
I speak through Ms. Jean’s mind, ‘Ok hun if this knight comes along.’
Ward smiles, Knight smiles, shy. I ply Ms. Jean’s mind again.
‘Got to see my shows, and I’m thirsty’
Ward speaks to Knight, “are you gonna put her down.”
Blow wind again, young hips wonder past; Muscles is occupied.
Knight gently settles grandma, pulls water from work sack.
Holds cold bottle to her lips. Ward watches, wondrous.
Hears and accepts Gypsy.
Wonder at the job of Angels.
E.R. Smith, 2018
Looking through peep hole.
Scrutinize self, beside doctrine.
Cringe, never will be confused for Jesus.
Catalyst reality, requires prevarication.
Sacrificing time when disinterested, tough!
Would rather give blood, maybe even marrow.
Thinking fast on my feet, speed demon.
Raspy voice reaches through closed door.
“Not my best today, you know the flu’s been about?!”
Jehovah’s witnesses back away, like my door’s lepers.
Their quick revulsion justifies my guile, the nerve!
No saviors in those church clothes either? Huh.
Misery loves this company, lackluster samaritans.
Going back to cozy sinful bed.
Waiting in donut shop, watching train staircase.
Focused gaze peers through window.
Hoping for a glimpse, but you’re off schedule.
Dark haired siren startles me, resembled you.
Donut shop crowded, rain coming hard.
A couple coming down stairs, looks like us.
Window blurs, I retreat into mind.
Love ways we loved, deep, long, sweaty.
Hate ways we fought, deep, long, vicious.
Want to apologize, go back, retrace, erase.
Thunder slaps awake, realize it’s too late.
Lighting strikes, clears, I see you with him.
Know why you rescheduled.
There are no time machines.
There is only me, a rainy window,
what could have been.
Strengthen the believer. Answer the critic.
Founder of ReInventions -- Coach, Trainer, Writer and Personal Branding Consultant
Inspirational kwotes, stories and images
Echoes of Life, Love and Laughter
Living the Path of Life
Psychology to Motivate | Inspire | Uplift
Oh! Take a shit, read a story. - My Mother on flash fiction
Critical. Crazy. Catastrophic.
Bringing Anime Together One Fan At A Time
Poetry, story and real life.
Shortness of Breadth
A PLACE FOR PROFESSIONAL & PASSIONATE POETS
surmising with aplomb and nary remorse
haiku tanka senryu hiabun, all manner of poetry.
shit storms, shame, and stories that make you cringe
Tales of whimsy, humor and courgettes
Writer of horror/fantasy/urban/worldbuilding. All those nice things which mean I get to use my imagination.