Category Archives: Poetry/Prose Mine

Wild

Photo Credit: The Carroll County Times, Chris Ammann
Photo Credit: The Carroll County Times, Chris Ammann

Hers, a heart wild with
abandon. Reckless – not.

Arms just wide enough to
embrace her Atlantic, legs
long enough to take in moon
silvered walks near waves
colored by night.

A neck sensitive enough to
know a mineral caress,
fingers eager enough to
siphon gritty warmth and hold
smooth treasures gifted by the sea.

Hers, a heart wild with
passion where ocean
blurs sky.

~Pamela

Sharks

Attribution: How to Draw Funny Cartoons http://www.how-to-draw-funny-cartoons.com/cartoon-shark.html
Photo credit: http://www.how-to-draw-funny-cartoons.com/cartoon-shark.html

Words, like knotted muscles,
tense. Wonder if you can feel the
letters jumbling together, backing
up in your throat.

What makes you think I towers
over me? A capital letter? Maybe
you forgot I have one, too. My
name starts with it.

Sounds, like maddened hornets,
rise. Do they sting as they leave
your mouth? Nah, not worried.
Got my antihistamine.

That cacophony, though. Man,
what noise – hard to hear over
pollution rushing through underground
sewers, levels rising.

You forget that my Atlantic is
bigger than your filth. Despite your
spills, it thrives. Creating life in abundance,
cancelling out shore lined trash.

Crashing waves drown out your my and
mine. Washing out to sea your selfish salt
tears and empty beer bottles, bobbing in
blue black riptides.

Treasures remain – handpicked shells with
sunset curves and fragile skeletons of small
creatures. Windblown hair of a tiny one and
a taller one. Even sharks lose their teeth.

~Pamela

The Keeper

What was it in his eyes? Not Monday, too sluggish. Not Tuesday, too fair. Wednesday? Maybe. Wait, Friday. Definitely Friday. An entire succession of Fridays with their infinite possibilities and wild freedom.

Better yet? Summer. Its hazy glint of blazing afternoons, burning stars, and galaxies ripped open wide in a nightly show replayed in his pupils for the world to take notice.

But did it? Did it slow its rushing and clawing and climbing and grasping to stop and look? I mean stare?

If it had, they would have seen, could have inhaled present. Clock hands turned, digital numbers flipped, even sunlight shifted. But his eyes . . . wet with oceans and the beams of a thousand lighthouses anchored.

~Pamela

Ash

RainAfterAshPoster1

They were solid-
sunlight and energy
wrapped up in liquid
until tiny flames
became infernos.
Burning an orange
hot, frenzy.

Until steam
smothering vapors
put out fuel.
Silence then
ash. 

~Pamela

Unveiled

images (1)

A veil blotting out
even sun specks gripped
tight by your hands

going lax—faint glimmers
then blinding warmth
swimming before
my eyes.

I see and feel day
leaving behind night and
your shrouds.

~Pamela

Conflagration

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Her as oxidizer.

A crushing embrace
heated through.

Stoked by red hot embers
igniting an epic blaze, a light
up the sky bonfire —

eagerly licking up
fuel as greedy flames burned, singed.

Catalysts, flashpoint, then combustion.

When the heat simmered down, a white smoky
haze–aftermath still smoldering. He was
changed.

~Pamela

Growing

HoldingHands_280px

Where did the time go?

From feet
little that pitter
patted to shoes that
gape and click.

From wake-ups
and monsters to scare to
looking up for hugs
bent down.

Where did the time go?

From loving huge
and huger still
cords fraying and
knowing well of the
hopes and dreams
ballooning.

Where did the time go?

Life’s shorter and heart’s
bigger to hold memories
warm from the sunshine
of your smiles

~Pamela

Funk

images (2)

She danced to funk
writhing and swaying
to strong riffs and heavy
bass.

She moved to hard
rhythms still loose
laughing at intense
grooves.

She forgot about
everything and nothing
getting down on
offbeats.

Tide Lines

red tide a

You visit me when the rains come.
Sliding in through the rising torrents
beating my windows, in the water
swirling around my ankles.

You can’t help yourself.

There’s something about crushing
waves that are a part of you which make
her eat sand, another’s eyes red from stinging
salt water, one more her heart aching from being
crashed into again and again.

Your wake leaves behind brown tide
lines with dirty foam, crushed shells,
sand dollars in pieces.

~Pamela

Siren

e
v
o
b
a
hair fanned
b
e
l
o
w
slick curves.

C-D-E-F-G-A-B-C
C-D-E♭-F-G-A♭-B♭-C
gleam.

silver
tale
spins

d
e
e
p

d
e
e
p
e
r

into black-
blue.

~Pamela Rossow