At the edge of the world
where a hive roars with life
the chatter is humming
the work seems like strife
the stars burn so brightly
a feline mews low
a candle flicks warmly
with a hazy, soft glow
It’s a sign of the times
a role destined to play
a curse of the future
where a secret might lay
And so it is here now
that we wander alone
Do we face what’s there waiting?
Should we fear the unknown?
©2021 CBialczak Poetry
Like a secret hid behind my eyes
I lie alone and wonder
How years go by without a clue
Like a blink or like a shudder
But glass holds in the things we feel
Words sit below the surface
We paint a scene of all our years
A meeting of minds amorphous
They sample foods and all fine wines
Those palatial and opulent
They lightly tap on clean taste buds
Bringing thoughts which are flamboyant
And then I go back to my shell
Where safety lies in wait
And let the time past fast and slow
Getting ready for my fate.
©2021 CBialczak Poetry
Brenda Warren is our host for the Sunday Whirl. You can join in here
Going to the beaches
With murder on my mind
A mission that I need to keep
I need to watch the time
The boat comes by and sees me
Its speedy and its sleek
Taking corners tightly
Never seeming weak
Taking up my weapon
No space for a mistake
In the air I feel a presence
Nothing found for heaven’s sake
Drawing up my dragger
No fear left in my gut
Looking for the piece of gold
Well hidden and well put.
©2021 CBialczak Poetry
Feeling quite frozen and nearly lost in this space
reluctantly leaving the comforts of a known place
Peering around for solace away from the crowd
Pulling his hat down since the venue was loud
He thought it quite lame to sit here and wallow
cramming down popcorn barely able to swallow
He pulls out his ticket to check for the date
Thinking maybe the show was just running quite late
He used to be patient and quiet and kind
Never the type to avenge a brilliant mind
But sitting for this long amongst noises and such
Made him remember why he disliked people so much
So he gets out his walking stick, set by his seat
Asking the near neighbors to tuck in their feet
Moves right along the row reserved just for him
Deciding a concert was a foolhardy whim.
©2021 CBialczak Poetry
To join in the Sunday whirl visit the site here
One of my favorite writing challenges! Check it out here
I feel a flutter in my chest
and feel the wind beneath my wings
like a bird upon its cage
feeling free and so it sings
Needing nothing now but love
like a hanger for a shirt
wanting to be hanging out
not laying in the dirt
but the cold can come and take it
and try to halt its song
like a blocked path in a garden
a tree root is that strong
To deny yourself the freedom
like a child from a womb
is to wish you had no lifeline
Only future filled with doom
so you finish what you’re doing
try to stay along your way
keep your vision very close
don’t let sadness make you stray
Be eager to find that someone
to share your love, your flow
and go just where your heart leads
don’t stop or let that go.
©2021 CBialczak Poetry
Click here to read about the challenge
I thought about the role I’d played
as an energy surged right by
like a gust of wind on a rainy day
trying to stay unequivocally dry
I thought I’d send a card to her
in the fashion of a formal note
a photo of me in the Sunday choir
with a mask and a scarf and a coat
The storm itself went rolling by
as my letter did fall to the floor
I put my hands upon the counter
And stared through the blinds on the door
When all of a sudden I saw the light
of someone just driving by
It was my love and to my surprise
We both laughed then started to cry
We hugged and talked and hugged some more
and couldn’t part hands at all
I told her that I loved her so, so much
and how happy I was for her call.
©2021 CBialczak Poetry
It’s Monday when Yves sets us the weekly MLMM wordle challenge.
Our words are:
Pinch, Nose, Topple, Tocsin (a signal, especially of alarm, sounded on a bell or bells), Contest, Forward, Crestfallen, Fence, Edge, Pile, Whistle, Lick
I couldn’t stand the odor
I had to pinch my nose
My head felt like a bobble
I toppled when I rose
The tocsin was resounding
A contest to the ears
A record on fast forward
A fence to hold my fears
I stand and look crestfallen
like a diver on the edge
waiting for the water
to rise up to the ledge
I pile up my courage
and whistle away my fears
I lick my dry and salty lips
I’m wise beyond my years.
©2021 CBialczak Poetry
Find it here
Sparks were flying as the legendary superhero raced through the streets in his sports car turned criminal catcher. The Criminal Cruncher was a spontaneous hero who could often be seen rising in the sky with a ring encircling him like the planet Saturn. The heat’s high temperature, which was emitted from the Cruncher’s car was a far cry from the temperature of the sun but it could still melt a criminal, landing him incapacitated instead of incarcerated. The Criminal Cruncher knew his powers were like magic and were what would make the future possible for the civilians in the city, though dressed in his black garb he was more ominous than hopeful. Somehow the Cruncher knew he had to find a way to rekindle the hope of the people or all of his work would be for nothing.
©2021 CBialczak Fiction
by bwarren
The child rose from the grassy area under the tree where he had been admiring the card from his schoolmate. He had seen a form in the sky that surprised him as it looked like a dragon rising up into the sky. There were dark clouds that looked like fire coming from the ferocious beast. The poor child was scared by the sight and began breathing heavily as the effervescent being drifted closer to the tree. He closed his eyes as if his lids formed a safe border between him and the monster. When he opened them again the sky sparkled off tiny raindrops like the finery in his mother’s jewelry box. He finally felt safe.
https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2021/07/04/wordle-508/
©2021 CBialczak
Find it here: https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2021/06/20/wordle-506/
She looked out the window as the rain poured from the sky. The past few weeks had been a terrible drought so the rain was very welcome. She believed in God, a god, and felt that the rain coming down on a night like today was a symbol of courage, some sort of sign that God had been listening to them. She thought of the history of her hometown and how the people who lived here still believed in faith. Not a week had gone by, nor had any resident ever let an occasion slide by, without giving thanks for all they had. In the end, wasn’t it an onslaught of prayer and belief by the people who taught the younger generations the rights and wrongs of life here?
Stine Writing 