Beautiful Vieques PR

Beautiful Vieques PR

Thursday, March 31, 2011

Cold Flame

Cold,
So cold.
Flames fill the night,
Yet I am so cold.


Sound of emergency
Screaming in the distance
Eager to end inferno,
As I wait in the cold

Remembering without regret.
State of shock?
Perhaps…
Cold as ice,

Knowing matches
Ended abuse.
Burning home
That held no warmth

Opinions denied
Unjustified
By anger so cold..

Heroes rush to save him,
But too late
Life taken
Ending in ashes
Setting me free,

Yet I am so cold.

G.K.Bostic - 2011






Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Reflection

Written for Carry on Tuesday

I see it in the mirror,
I see it in my face,
The calendar has carved
The passing of my days.

Reflected in the mirror
Are signs of years gone by,
But there behind reflection
A young girl lives inside.

I see it in the mirror
I see it in my eyes
A wisdom gained by trials
And experience and time.

I see it in the mirror
I see it in the lines
The marks of love and joy
That smiles have left behind.

I see it in the mirror
I see it in my face
The days and years gone by
A precious gift of grace.

G.K. Bostic - 2011

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Spring

The Wednesday Poetry Prompt at Poetic Asides this week is to write a poem about spring. I am so anxious for it's arrival (not just on the calendar, but in the weather) that this is what I came up with.

Too long the icy grip of winter’s hand
Has held us prisoner with icy palm,
But soon the vernal equinox will free
Us from extended housebound discontent.

The charm of springtime calls us out to play,
To leave behind our manacles of fur,
And gone will be the blinding white of snow
Replaced by green and lavender and rose.

We’ll feast our eyes upon the gifts of spring,
Give thanks for life that’s been reborn again,
Let warmth of sun erase frostbitten minds
Awakening imagination’s songs.

Monday, March 21, 2011

Wounded

Written for Poetry Potluck

lies cutting like knives
trust bleeds away marriage vows
heart and breath taken

to hard to forgive
death blow to relationship
love torn asunder

one careless mistake
lives undone by deception
splitting families

(...not autobiographical :)

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Her Story

This week's prompt for Carry on Tuesday:
asks us to use the first words from the final paragraph of
Crime And Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky

"But that is the beginning of a new story"

Her story told
of a love so strong..
She reached, and he was gone.
No explanation
to fill the blanks..
just emptiness
where once he dwelt.

Heavy steps
trod through empty rooms,
gone their dance,
in a trance
of mystery,
"Where is he?"

Gentle knock upon the door..
mystery no more
as Uniformed face
can't hide demise.

Veil of gloom
hiding track of tears
through the years,
through the void..

Until his spirit
set her free from agony,
crossing threshold
to live again
looking in
eyes of a friend...

But that is the beginning
of a new story..

Friday, March 18, 2011

She Might Surprise You.....

(This is my first attempt at flash fiction.)

I was sitting on my front porch in my favorite rocker. What a beautiful spring day it was. This pleasant change brought a lovely warm breeze and the sound of birds singing sweetly, a sound I’d been waiting to hear all through those cold winter months. So I was just rocking, lost in memories of so many days that Martin and I had spent in this very spot enjoying our time together. For fifty-two years we lived and loved right here in this house until the angels took him away last year. I guess his ticker was just worn out. Oh but we had a good life together…


My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a noisy commotion coming from the house next door. Such yelling and screaming like you wouldn’t believe. Well, I’m not one to eavesdrop, but there was no effort needed to hear what these two were saying to each other, and let me tell you, it wasn’t pretty!


The young couple had just moved in recently, and what with the bad weather and all, we hadn’t really had a chance to get to know each other so I hesitated to interfere. I remember when I took that pie over and met the Missus the day after they moved in, she seemed real sweet. She couldn’t have been more than about five feet tall, just a little bitty girl maybe in her early twenties. I hadn’t met the husband, but through the window I’d seen he was a pretty big guy….a good looking young man at that.


But listening to all that yelling, I was definitely getting the impression he might have kind of a mean streak. They had opened the windows to enjoy the breeze so I heard it all. He was yelling something about her doing as she was told. Humph! Well, as far as I understood, he was her husband, not her father…..but it sure did sound like he thought he was the lord and master.


I could hear her crying then, and she sort of yelled something back at him. It wasn’t a very loud yell, ‘cause I couldn’t hear what she said, but I sure heard what happened next. He must have given her a whack. It was loud enough that I heard it all the way out to where I was sitting. And worse than that, there was a crash that scared me right out of my rocker!


Well, I might be seventy-five years old, and I maybe move pretty slow most of the time these days, but I’m pretty sure I was going through their front door in seconds after hearing that little gal go crashing to the floor.


The poor child hadn’t even gotten up off of the kitchen floor; she was crumpled there with him standing over her. Then he heard me. Well, I saw his face go from menacing to shocked in a heartbeat. Yeah, he wasn’t expecting a little old lady to witness what a brute he was, and sure wasn’t expecting what happened next.


I grabbed the first thing I came to when I charged into the kitchen. There just happened to be a big old frying pan sitting there on the counter as fate would have it. I guess the Good Lord above must’ve given me a little extra speed and a little extra strength that day, ‘cause I started swinging that pan, and he’s was backing away as fast as he could and yelling all the while. He was screaming things like, “Get outta here. Are you crazy? Leave me alone you crazy old lady!” He yelled the whole way out of his house and into his car. I could hear him still yelling as I stood in the driveway and watched him screech out of the drive and down the road.


Well, as you might imagine, I was pretty tired after that, but that sweet little gal, her name was Carol, helped me back into the house. After she got me some water and put a cold cloth on the side of her face, we talked awhile, and she finally agreed to call the police and report what happened.


I wasn’t sure what would happen after that, and I wasn’t sure what people might think of me charging into somebody else’s house like that, but if there’s one thing I won’t stand for it’s a bully picking on somebody smaller or weaker than them!


Oh, and Carol and I did become good friends in the months that followed. She’s almost like one of my own. And she got rid of that bum too! I didn’t think I’d see him again, but last week at the grocery store, I glanced back and he’d just come up behind me in the check-out line. I saw the surprise in his eyes when he recognized me, and I couldn’t help myself…..maybe the devil made me do it….but I just sort of made a sudden move toward him. Well, would you believe, he left his cart full of groceries right there and took off. I couldn’t help but chuckle as I watched him dash to his car.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Tragedy

Food in abundance
no more in ravaged Japan
razed by tsunami

g.k.bostic - 3/15/11