Tag: #FOWC

Driven

Driven

The street her catwalk
The clothes her haute couture
Head held high
She strutted her stuff
At sixteen she was quite mature

Wrong side of the tracks
Not a good start to life
Being posh elevated her
confidence
Avoiding the strife

Able to work this
To get what she needed
Knowing herself
Trusting herself
A few years conceded

Love on the streets tonight
For sale at a price
Your place or mine
The front seat of your car
She could add a little spice

She had their number
Her expertise fortuitous
A carnival of sexual needs
She had seen it all
Separating herself from anxious

Sometimes there was violence
The Johns were abominating
The older girls looked out
not always able to protect her
She rarely saw it coming

She didn’t remember
How many there had been
Mostly it was a blur
Soon she would have enough
To say goodbye to the obscene

The end justified the means
She was almost there
Suck it up for a little longer
A few more tricks
Then nothing left to share

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Anmol is hosting at D’Verse Poets tonight and has prompted
us with Profiles and Portraits.  This is a poem I wrote
some time ago and I thought I would share it tonight

Word Prompts:

Anxious

Carnival

Posh

Number

Fortuitous

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Meeting

Meeting

The coolness of the marble
Soothed her feeling of duress
Waiting patiently for the outcome
She smoothed down her dress

Looking quickly in her compact
She checked her hair
A stray wisp had escaped
Giving her an eclectic flair

The museum was quiet
She gazed at the artwork
Standing in front of the painting
Her face creased to a smirk

She knew he was there
As his presence was felt
Turning she saw him
And her body began to melt

She had left a trail
Knowing he would follow
He had pursued willingly
Finding her at the Picasso

He said her name out loud
By the sound she was awed
He said with authority
“You are under arrest for art fraud”

 

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Today’s Word Prompts

Marble

Smirk

Duress

Eclectic

Pursue

Compact

 

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Lies

Lies

One little lie, two little lies
Three lies, four
This is how it begins
Hard to keep track
Impossible to ignore

Choosing to go down
that slippery slope
There’s no turning back
The choice has been made
Say goodbye to all hope

Infatuation is a welcome guest
But he obscures your vision
With a diaphanous veil
Making you the fool
Of bad decisions

Improvisation attempted
But not availed
You’ve shown your true colors
A relationship is now in ruins
His love cruelly assailed

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Daily Word Prompts:

Slippery

Infatuation

Guest

Diaphanous

Improvise

Ruins

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Losing My Religion

Losing My Religion

There is no copyright on God
It’s a free for all game
All taking a different route
But the ending is the same

Babies drinking scripture
In their mother’s milk
Buddhists shaving their head
In robes of orange silk

Distorted thinking
Insisting God is a warmonger
Murdering innocents
For a life to be lived longer

Women as second class citizens
Covered head to toe
Honor killings and sexual mutilation
With nowhere to go

Men insisting women
Be exemplary in dress
Wigs must be worn
Why? is anyone’s guess

Cajoled into thinking
This way is better
Hatred for the others
In a poison pen letter

Fear-based religion
With a death toll of shame
A Deteriorating social structure
Continuing to Inflame

Search within for guidance
Don’t be persuaded by others
Your sprit will guide you
It will not be smothered

 

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:

Cajole

Copyright

Exemplary

Guess

Deteriorate

Photo by Isaiah Rustad on Unsplash

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Therapy

Therapy

Drawing her strength
being in the elements
Her mentor had become nature
Walking at the golden crepuscule
when the sun disappeared
was her portraiture

Beauty surrounding her
her mind felt cleansed
The coolness of the evening
calming the activity of the day
Having ample space to breathe
the experience healing

With clarity of mind
She realized now
her street smarts never failed her
Her instincts were right
A wolf in disguise
His identity a saboteur

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

 

Word Prompts:

Element

Mentor

Crepuscule

Smart

Ample

Photo by Linda Xu on Unsplash

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Impasse

Impasse

The fragility of the moment
causes me to stop
where I am
Another word, another step
could break the dam

We glossed over the issues
Copious amounts of energy
devoted to the cause
Nothing was resolved
I break for a pause

No palette for your indignation
I ignored the caustic remarks
The recurring theme
exhausting and
inevitably there will be sparks

So where do we go
having reached this point
We are at an impasse
Perhaps I’ll move to the boondocks
Where greener the grass

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

 

The mix of today’s word prompts did not inspire me too much and I was stuck for most of the day trying to create something 😬

Word Prompts:

Copious

Gloss

Fragile

Palette

Theme

Boondocks

Photo by jean wimmerlin on Unsplash

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Maelstrom

Maelstrom

Each day I wake
not knowing what
to expect
Will today be
comforting or
suffocating
There is no way to detect

I can sail
smooth seas
of love and tranquility
Be a recipient
of your devoted attention
and surprised
by your spontaneity

Or do we navigate a maelstrom
on this imperious
voyage to destruction
Unable to fathom
your thought process
I do drown in your rhetoric
of seduction

Anchored to your bitterness
Wishing for harmony but
sinking in your resentment
Feeling Icy fingers wrapped
around my heart
beguiled with the promise
of contentment

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:

Fathom

Imperious

Beguile

Anchor

Photo by Yoann Boyer on Unsplash

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Reborn

Reborn

The fog gave way
to the morning sun
as it struggled to shine
on the cliffs of might
The wind thrashing
the sea grasses
Blowing away remnants
of the night

Walking slowly away
from the memories of you
Inhaling deep a freshness
of purity
What’s done is done
Your voice no more living in my ears
A cleansing freedom
surpassed in its finality

Passing the chewing sheep
oblivious to their own destiny
Seeing the wild blackberries
and fuchsia along the hedgerow
growing amongst ancient stone
Defining the verdant land of centuries
I am confident on my path
More than I could ever know

Absconding with my dignity
allowing nature to touch my senses
Cleansed by the falling rain
Abstaining from thoughts you neuter
without guilt or shame
I am reborn and whole once more
Breathing in my new found liberty
as I walk towards a new future

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:

Abscond

Verdant

Abstain

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Lagging

Lagging

Tiredness came swiftly
Smothering
Laying heavy on my eyes
and limbs
Suppressing efforts of revival
A deep state
Encompassing

Feeling grubby and unclean
Exhausting
Succumbing to sleep
Dramatic and deep
Eccentric Dreams
Teasing

Body failing to adjust
Confusing
Brightness of mind
Wins over darkness of night
Fully awake
Rejuvenating

Mind now alert
Conflicting
Energy is lowered
Limbs cannot move
Mind is willing but flesh is weak
Frustrating

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Words Prompts:

Grubby

Eccentric

Dramatic

Tease

Swift

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The Voyage of Annie Moore

The Voyage of Annie Moore

She stood shivering in the night

Her siblings never far from sight

The fog was hanging thick in the air

As they stood waiting saying a silent prayer

Tonight the journey will be across the ocean

On the high seas a future, stirring emotion

A new country lured them away from gloom

A place of adventure with more than enough room

The possibilities she could no longer ignore

For these were the dreams of Annie Moore

This was the night she would bid farewell

to the old country, but feelings she could not quell

Just a seventeen-year old girl with young brothers at her side

Courage she would need to project and never hide

This Irish girl from a riparian village on the river Lee

Called County Cork her home but yearned to be free

Blessed with the gift of the fight

She would survive this journey in her own right

Fearless and free her future had called

Not thinking twice, her confidence unequalled

The voyage would be long and Christmas spent at sea

But soon to be reunited with her family

She did not need any holiday feast

Intent on battling the hunger beast

She counted four long years since her parents emigrated

Leaving a very young Annie and her little brothers truncated

After twelve erratic days at sea their incredible journey was complete

Their energy low and almost deplete

The arrival was memorable as they stepped onshore

The cheering crowd at Ellis Island did welcome Annie Moore

 

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:

Riparian

Feast

Erratic

Incredible

Annie Moore, from Ireland, departed what is now Cobh, in County Cork by steamship on December 20, 1891. She was the first immigrant processed through the new Immigration Building, Ellis Island, New York on January 1, 1892.  Twin statues like the one pictured here have been erected in Cobh and Ellis Island.

For more information on Annie Moore’s immigration CLICK HERE

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