My mind roams

Like the traveling gnome

Becoming derelict

That's how you depict it

Wrapping me in confusion

Caused by your delusions

New girlfriend

New songs

Ones you won't

Be able to listen to

Again for at least

A solid year

After you break up

And fall apart

Without her memory

Flooding you with

Every single note

There was a farmer

He had a dog

But his name wasn't Bingo

He had a tree

With branches which

Made no fruit,

Yellowed leaves

Cancered leaves

So he stripped the branches,

Pruning the tree

He piled the branches high

Then lit them on fire,

Flames jumping miles

In a late October sky

The fingers snapped and crackled

As combustion consumed her

Feigning life.

He started back

Barn behind

Farmhouse ahead

Tree out of mind,

It stood naked

And shriveled

Flapping loosely in

A meager wind

Rotting from the inside out.  

What's the price

Of living a lie?
Should it be less

Than uncomfortable truth?

Whispers and awkward stares

Words shooting venom

Jaws clamping down

Devouring lifeless prey

Just another day

Exposed and vulnerable

Targeted by predators

And the elements

Forfeiting protection

Sacrificing comfort

Burying honesty deep

Beneath a well of insanity

How many dollars and cents

Equate to denial of sense?

Yay! Day 3 Emily Walton

Dirty Knives

I stare out the kitchen window through strands of hair, mindlessly washing dishes.
The snowflakes fall on the naked trees.
I come to a sharp kitchen knife.
I now look down at it in my hand.
I touch it’s blade to my skin and imagine cutting under my vein and slicing up through.
I hear my kids’ voices.
My eyes are drawn back to the window.
I continue washing, watching the snow fall.

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24hr Happiness

What a day
A happy day
A day I’ve seen once before

I’ve never had a happy dream
Though this day felt like nothing more

The only thing I can not get
Is why it came
And where it went

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My Dogs

I had a dog
His name was Blue
He sometimes tinkled on my shoe
Then one day
I woke to see
That Blue had gone
He had left me
My daddy said he went away
He said he might come back some day

My mommy bought another dog
His name was Paul
He hopped around like a bouncy ball
Then I came home for my dad to say
Son, I’m sorry, but Paul has gone
He left, but might be back by dawn
I sat and waited, but the only sound
Was the pounding of my feet
Upon the cold, hard ground

I found a puppy by my school
I took him home and named him Fred
He liked to run and jump all day
‘Till Daddy said he didn’t stay
I wondered why my dogs did leave
I wondered how they got away
My dad stayed home all through the day

I took my bat and found a ball
In my search for a glove, went down the hall
Down to the basement where the darkness floods
I turned on the lights and stepped in blood
To the wall I looked to see
My daddy had been tricking me

All three of my dogs I did find
Neatly stacked and in a bind
I walked to them
Their throats were slit
I pet Paul’s head
And then I split
Each morning
I would bring them food
I sang them songs
And went to school

More from Emily Walton

One 

My passion for you
flows from me
Shoots from my finger tips
in waves of red-orange heat
My breathing grows heavy
Thinking of your ocean eyes
The long awaited kiss at the end of the day
Running my fingers down your decorated skin
Your hand in my hair
My eyes close as I melt in your arms
Waves of movement flow through my body
Your warmth on mine
Our love divine
A single body of energy
An explosion of color
My love grows
A constant
As the ticking of time
Even in death we shall not part
For you I am
As you for me
Together as one
For all eternity

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You and Me

Every since I've known you
I've been in love with you
I can't sleep
For the longing
To be close to you
Breathing quickens
At the thought of you
Stomach explodes
An orgasmic flutter
At the sound of your voice
Your eyes shine
As they look into mine
In my mind
Bodies entwined
Sweat dripping
Time stops ticking
Your hand in mine
I look to the sky
At this moment I could die
It was meant to be
You and me

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Featured Poet of the Month (November 2010): Emily Walton

The featured writer for the month of November is Emily Walton.  Emily is a wife and mother of three, residing in Broome County, NY.  Be sure to check in regularly this week to sample a bit of Emily's work.  You won't regret it!  

Distortedly Conscious

Your computer's not fully protected. nor my heart, my dear.
I sit and draw
On you, my dear
I sit and think, of you my dearI draw my mind
Pours from my hand
Blackened with inkFrom you, my dear

I believed you
I wanted to
Makes no sense to you, my dear
Needn't sense to make
To you I do not speak
I speak to those whose whispers I hear
Who don't exist but in my head
Who don't have ears to hear, my dear
I wanted to believe you care
I wanted to believe there was something deeper
Not just words
But only words is all you speak
My emotions took over
As often they do
Clouding, distorting, confusing fantasy with reality
I come back
Back to me
Back to this
Here without you
Forever without you

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We Move
Just as soft as your skin
Just as sweet as your scent
As tender as your touch
Sending tingles down my spine
Just as smooth as your words
We move
Together we sway
Slow motion
As trees in the wind
Ribbons of heat
Our bodies meet
Rhythms combine
In this moment
I am yours
And you are mine
The world fades
I see only you
I only wonder
Do you see me too

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