It’s Here… (Nanowrimo)

It’s upon me, the month

it’s all stitched tightly

together. In a month, it’ll have eyes

 

to peek through drawn curtains

a hand to reach from the dark

alleys of their imagination,

 

a sultry, whispering voice

that’s neither charming

or alarming but enticing,

 

commanding, urging them to climb,

run and jump, dash

and breathe deeper, think quicker

 

harvest their adrenaline

to think two, three steps ahead

to figure the encounter, to look further

 

with my words, my lines

and my slant rhymes

that define my stalking tale.

 

With skin, bones and flesh

entailed, it’ll rise – rise!

and feed on your fright.

 

It’s hungry, famished

from it’s fight for life, it’s coming.

It’s creeping, it’s headed this way

 

– B. Brown

(image courtesy of pinterest; by Bernie Wrightson)

 

Nanowrimo is officially here, ya’ll! I’m about halfway through my novel and confident that it’ll be ready for editing by the end of this month. My goal is to complete at least one chapter a day. It’ll be tough because I’m juggling work, school, parenting and another poetry collection that I would love to have completed by the end of this year. 

Who’s all participating this year? I feel I finally have the right equipment, skill and mind set. I’m ready. I’m soooo ready for this challenge. What are your goals? What are you aiming for? 

 

 

 

The Violet Nights

She pulls herself back onto the love seat,
untangling herself from the throw and weighted limbs.
Bare to the mahogany nylon threads,
she scoops her knee into the bend of her elbow,

trailer scenes looping against the light above the kitchen sink,
above the body she left simmering
next to the coffee table, unmoved upon her departure,
expended, he let himself gorge on her, rented

ignoring the glances towards the clock and door
left unchained, she stayed in frame
reaching, grasping and sparking a cigarette, embers to the rug,
exasperated puffs while the man’s lips begin to quiver.

the doorknob clicks and the hinges whisper,
Nike’s over the threshold and then the matted barrel
the caper stepped easy though the man lay seizing
as she scoops her puddled dress and shoes.

“He’s got jewelry in the room to the left,” she says,
taking the bills and leaving the rest.

– B. Brown

via DailyPrompt: Gorge

(image courtesy of Pinterest)