Sorry I took your spot: Compilation 10/16/2022

It was with a weary smile
That I finished up my job
I knew that I was early
I gave an untenable little sob

I opened up my car door
Revealing an awful mess inside
With a thumping in my brain
I took a breath so deep and wide

I shot a glance right over
Towards the moon glowing so bright
Then dropped my eyes and held my gaze
And shivered at the sight

There stood a big strong figure
With a snarl on its face
Its a pity I didn’t see the sign
That said it’s his parking space

In an elaborate way to exit
A kind of carving through the dirt
I didn’t care now of the damage
Earth flax my spinning tires spurt

I wanted to arrive in time
Not die right in my car
I know it’d sound like a big lie
‘Cause thats how stories are

So instead I’ll say I worked late
And had a flat or still
Say that I ran out of gas
Avoid the stares and grill.

©2022 CBialczak Compilation

A Meaningless Tale: Compilation 09/11/2022

During the homecoming they were happy to see
That the bush and the shrub weren’t hurt by the bee
There was no regret since no time went to waste
finding the ytterbite was for what they all raced
They wasted no time in this journey of life
like presented with teeth of a tenacious steak knife
For they didn’t know they were next on the list
A symptomatic response like a crack in the schist
they went rocking along, such an agile climb
They picked from a shrub near a dirty clothesline
You could read the response on the older one’s face
That satire here was the ribbons and lace
Tied to the tree to keep all pests away
wanting nothing to bother them during their stay

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

The Sunday Whirl: Wordle 551

Brenda hosts The Sunday Whirl

pet eternity box trail flash detective check relish planets embellish moon tip

Dreamscape

My mind is flying high as I somersault through space
Looking for eternity, I dash then my slow pace
The planets soar right past me on my way straight to the moon
Knowing of my mission, the end can’t come too soon.
I embellish all my plans with a box that I can check
To see if I am happy, I feel just like a wreck
With my faithful pet beside me, relishing my speed
We leave a trail of silver lightening, a flashbulb is my lead
I act like a detective with a mission to complete
Tips and tricks abound as I rise up to my feet
I see the bed before me and know I was asleep
But the dreams I had regarded remain there, buried deep.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

The Sunday Whirl

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Quiet Strength

She shouldered the burden but laughed at the dawn
With arms stretched wide as mists rose off the lake
She had no fear of what was to come or what would appear again
So she awoke with a blur, feeling life from her head to the tips of her toes
Knowing she had the strength to conquer even the quiet demons that whirred around her.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

Sunday Whirl: Wordle 545

Brenda hosts the Sunday Whirl: https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2022/03/20/wordle-545/

Unimaginable Ukraine

Amidst the rubble after the war
The explosions are felt ‘round the world
The power of one is evil by far
While his wicked ways become unfurled

Homes are now scarce as spirits decline
The free world is far from the norm
The people will sit while bombs sing and whine
Like the deadliest part of the storm

An unrelenting battle goes on
As tears rise all ‘round the globe
The lilt and swagger now is far gone
While the search for the dead is the probe

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

The Sunday Whirl

Join in here: https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2022/03/13/wordle-544/

Regret

When I looked over at her face, she stuck her tongue out at me. She was holding the book I had given her, the one with my inscription telling her all the ways I felt about her. I wanted to climb into a cave, drag myself away from this place, and build a barrier between us because I was so embarrassed. Apparently she didn’t sit vigil waiting for me as I waited for her. The book was only meant to be a small memento but now I regretted telling her how I really felt. Now it just felt like letters thrown into the wind. This was going to be the death of me and any chance I had with the woman of my dreams. 

Wordle 542

by bwarren

The Turtle

Amidst the rain and fog
A turtle spins his shell
Hoping for sunny warmth
His neck down to his tail
Like a vinyl record
He spins around and round
On the threshold of the mud
Fiddling with the ground
With no idea what else to do
without making too much noise
Making his own hidden design
He’s proud, happy, and poised.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

The Sunday Whirl

: https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2022/02/20/wordle-541/

Word List:

Temples
Scuffling
Mouth
Stories
Step
Sky
Fluttered
Ghost
Spring
Door 
Weaving

Test of Faith

In a temple of the Gods
Below a sky of stars
The stories of the elders
Are heard from near and far
They’re weaving their tales tightly
A step above a lie
walking in the door in spring
Or scuffling on by
Your mouth is hanging open
Heart fluttered in your chest
Shadow ghosts from dark appear
Some sort of worship test.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

The Sunday Whirl

Brenda is the host of the Sunday Whirl. Check it out here

sunset finish limit string spill heartbeat trails fairy lacy tick stone gate

Come Back

Sitting here I watch the sunset, my glass reflects the glow
The wine is almost finished and I’ve got nowhere to go

My heartbeat’s running rapid as I think about our night
No limit to the love I felt, the timing felt so right

Strings of sun spill upon the sea in trails not hard to see
I wish there was a fairy that could bring you back to me

As tears well up my view begins a fine lacy effect
Time is ticking quickly until the dark of night is set

A stone throws way across the sea will bring you back to me
And at my gate you’ll find my love and know just where to be.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry

The Sunday Whirl

Find the prompt here

Book Love

Books to me are golden
like honey from the bees
like sap slowly leaking
from trunks of maple trees.
The words are sweet as sugar
satiating my mind’s needs
a hunger for the language
leaving my head with a seed
No broken lines are taken
as a sign of things to come
for words are always with me
silky sounds in my ears hum
the black upon the pages
wind round and round each line
a dust around a knick knack
Each speck is solely mine.
My family knows I’m feeling
that books are here for good
a truckload of the bindings
I’ve read as many as I could.

©2022 CBialczak Poetry