Pieces of Prayers (36)

This is another poem by the wonderful Brian Francis!! Enjoy people… (commentary by michelle, the grrrreat!)

Pieces of Prayers

At the water, waiting for the night to creep in.
A thief tucking away
daylight, carrying it off.
Seldom does this sun set on sins unrepented.

It collapses in my hands.
All of it.
Those same hands that reach for you,
that scribbled love notes on parts
I know you hated most
so you knew I loved you exactly
the way you were.

Hands that shake when the world rages.
Looking for something to grasp -
your hand,
a convenient excuse to run
when it gets too much.
I look at
younger versions of myself
wondering where it went.

I knew it was fragile – always did.
Never thought that the pressure would have me
chewing my own tongue to the point where
you caught pieces in your palm.
Pieces of prayers that I couldn’t rush
out of me fast enough.

Floodwaters capsize the little man in
a rowboat cursing the shooting stars
the gypsies rode in on.
So much so it tenses my body to fits             and god-
she’s having trouble with translations.
I told you that there was no place
I’d rather be
and left.

I never knew a monster like those 6 months.
Belly swollen with
boogiemen and butterflies.
My barbwire beauty
marks the spot
where the path was forked.
The weight sits heavy inside.
Obstinate. Swelling.
Tears echo behind eyes-
I lose words
seizing the day.

Ashes to ashtrays
Dusk to dusty back roads
where a story in a dingy sack
slung over shoulder is dragged.

Put to rest at the riverbed.
Washed free.
Test the water with your toes.
Walk away washed
with parts of me
still choking on I’m sorry.
You are a story I cannot complete.

I stole another moment and keep it
shiny and new in my pocket.
It hangs from a silver chain around my neck.
I recite it every night with the prayers Gretel taught me.
I take time with this prayer.
I let it come naturally.
It means too much not to get it right.

Writing Prompt 3 – Emily (35)

how great thou art

silhouetted in ocean
you lick salt off your lips
swallow futures
you grow trees tall enough to hide
regret, pulled
atmosphere ballooned like a belly,
stitched to the earth
like a parachute,
we breathe each other’s breaths
until we’re dizzy with fumes

a country with roads halfway finished
gravel stops suddenly
against a barricade of trees, bowed
carving paths only for those with
heels made of the earth,
I am covered in your bark

waiting to crack.

Writing Prompt 3 – Michelle (34)

Yay! Michelle joined us in writing! Here is her response to the writing prompt:

How great thou art

My toes curl at the thought of you
wishin. waiting. wanting just to be
falls of water avalanche down
how great thou art!

Writing Prompt 3 – Brian (33)

How Great Thou Art

your flesh folds over

as you curl yourself

then open. you’ve drooled

on my shoulder twice

since we collapsed into

each other last. you twitch

in your sleep

and while you operate the day

you glow

between the fluttering

but my these random bursts

lead me home.

I can haiku all day long (31)

haikus by the infamous mario dones…


hey, how great thou art

you bought me some chicken

nice. you hold it down


danielle nottingham

i wake up on Saturdays

she gives me the news.

Writing Prompt 2 – Brian (29)

With potential’s passing

hand and welcoming embrace,

the broken bright, cracke me

open slow. Another body pillow

soaked in sleep walking trails.

The loose leaves fossilized.

When they read, years later

maybe they can tell folktales

of these minor triumphs.

I am a mighty mythology

taken in vain .

I asked God if she needed a drink…

Writing Prompt 2 – Emily (28)

I finished first again, so here is my poem:

without warning
night turns backwards
and your face is lit with dawn,
quiet closes your eyes like pockets
stuffed with nervous palms and
I can still smell you.
You smell like morning, sour
soaked in sweet.

the sun trips through the window
stumbles and spreads across your legs
I want to kiss your shadows
that’s where the flavor pools
the coolest water mellows in valleys
tucked in shade.
I want you.

there’s nothing more potent
than early morning thirst and my
throat cracks, sticky silence
but your lips are closed
your tongue holding on to its spit
for dear life.

stenciled in your body’s inverse
inhaling your sleep
I ask God to just this once pause time.

Writing Prompt 1 – Brian (26)

Connect the dots of today

Sketches of the branches sway

Holes on the horizon line

Hi-light the rising night

Magic eraser, we”ll lose ourselves

Blown breeze ring the fluffy bells

Shake our smudges clean

We’ll write another ream.