271

The Scream by Edvard Munch(1868-1944)
courtesy Wikipedia

A SCREAMING
The clop clop of horses hooves
Sounds through dawning reproves

Space gapes through empty tomb
Void of conclusions now to subsume

Then pinched Pilate, the great Caeasar
To quiet this screaming non-Balthasar

This is not what we came to see
A SCREAMING © gillena cox 2016

Blog hopping in response to Kerry's prompt
Not What We came To See ~ Micro Poetry

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The Projectionist’s Nightmare

This is the projectionist’s nightmare:
A bird finds its way into the cinema,
Finds the beam, flies down it,
smashes into a screen depicting a garden,
a sunset and two people being nice to each other.
Real blood, intestines, slither down
the likeness of a tree.
“This is no good,” screams the audience,
“This is not what we came to see.”

Brian Patten
Liverpool, UK

270

[image 'blame it on the moon' from google dot com]

NIGHT ROMPS
Sing sweetly so for prithee tis night
Where such of dark shadows ply thee
Susurrations eerie stay thy trade
For fading light and sighing might
Appear adventurers apples be offered
From unseen hands clear ethereal sight
NIGHT ROMPS © gillena cox 20160819

Blog hopping to Sanaa's prompt
On Popular Demand – Lets gather around for some ghost stories – [8]



[my video of choice]

269

[aboriginal art from google dot com]

TOPSY TURVY TURNING TALES
Music screeched to crescendos with tentacles
Wrapping spider's webs in diaphanous songs
The aliens had landed

Mother ship pods shaking giant red bean heads
Chattered verso lilting verbs in naming things
The beginning was near

Partying dog-eared dorks, hot lava like gyrations
Moved eager wallflowers to early Autumnal wilts
Heavens gates were closing
TOPSY TURVY TURNING TALES © gillena cox 2016


Blog hopping today in response to Fireblossom's prompt
Perchance To Dream

[My video for choice today]

268

[image from google dot com]

MISS PRETTY
Back then, it was easy to sit, hours on end
To have kinky hair corn-rowed with, or
Without the extensions added, to lend
The length of vanity, time thus courted;
Youth and its foibles reveled hours on end
While 'Miss Pretty' sat poised on the wall
She adored these glam hours we would spend
Hairdresser braided, she preened or napped
A yellow-eyed little fur-balled friend
So well named such a hoity toity cat,
Those were days of coiffure hours on end
MISS PRETTY © gillena cox 2016


Blog hopping today at
Midweek Motif ~ cats: in response to Susan's prompt


NOW WATCH THIS BEFORE YOU LEAVE

Monday WRites 70

MORNING FRESCO
Morning pours herself into another day
Weaving threads golden of sunlight array
Shards of mirrored sky and watery sea
A ripple here, adrift the silence glee

Moon hoping a tad bit more to stay longs
Only from feathered fancies such songs
Designed to twitter in much lively accord
What harmonies this dawning should award
MORNING FRESCO © gillena cox 2016



You've heard about the Monday Blues ❧✿❧ well this is Monday WRites (musing on the definition here of rite, as any customary observance or practice eg the rite of afternoon tea).
Welcome to Monday WRites #70, ❧✿❧ What's your mood like today ❧✿❧ I invite you to link in with one of your WRites




GRAB MY BUTTON
<br /> <a href="http://myblog-verses.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0C9WPzL5kFEY1gEitLn4bC5inZjfq2beowWitvrD3zLruIRMxxj1RyrHw6Xcd6SlmEASrTd6rLFn4mfF8D8XC5Mz4ASE8iblAAmc3uaKNuHtYgvzIWajyH64D6kzlwugaU8wP610yKLRq/s320/button2Monday+WRites.jpg" alt="verses" /></a><br />




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Linking to
The Tuesday Platform

267

[google dot com image]

ONE QUEEN BEE IS ENOUGH
That day, that inauspicious day
When the Grinch snatched my crown
I cried like Christmas never was

Did I tell you that green, is, really
Her colour, suits her to a tee

I spread out, after a good shake, my wings;
Sat crossed-legged, and inhaled, then
Summoned my drones: To work! To work!
There's a war to be won
ONE QUEEN BEE IS ENOUGH © gillena cox 2016


Written for

in response to Magaly's prompt 'Which Bee'

HEY YOU TOADS, WATCH THIS

266

[Clip art from yahoo dot com]

SOUL MATES
Before our skins touched the breath of our pores
Before our mouths echoed a creation of commands

There you were in cloud of dreamscape
There you were your face in my minds eye

Asleep i slumbered snugly in your ethereal arms
Asleep i smelled your fragrant sweet eternal being

You became the cliche, the end to my sentences
You became the dew for fresh new mornings

We etched the sunset into our empty recognition
We etched the horizon out for changed landscape

How then can i let you go, for what more
How then can i say goodbye, when my love stays
SOUL MATES © gillena cox 2016


Written for
Prompt Nights – Intuition’s as though we’re seeing with our soul [25]




[Clip art from yahoo dot com]

CHICKENED OUT
We joined the queue
It was quite a long queue

I was adamant. Yes I replied
Let's join the queue

We were going to meet the gypsy
So we joined the queue

Brixton market, there we were
Balmy weather, us in the queue

We moved up a bit, a slow crawl
Seemed never ending, this queue

There she was reading a palm
After a long wait in the queue

We could see her now
From our place in the queue

Aw let's go, I change my mind. So
after all this time we left the queue
CHICKENED OUT © gillena cox 2016


Written for Lets take a look at the cards, shall we? – [24]