You know I didn’t wash up on the beach
like some vacant conch shell, emptied out inside
and full of nothing but dead wind. No, no ocean
crackles and snarls inside them, those amplifier ears,
those calcium and protein chests – blow the wind through them
and the music will come. But I am music. I am
wind. My woven witchery has been inside the soul of this island
since time could count and men could be slain
by its clock-hand blades.
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Tag Archives: murder
Writer’s Island #3: The Key
dropped off behind like a forgotten soul
the key, a jagged edge glint of gold
teeth turned towards the surf and
resting in the sand under the glaring noon
shadow voices ride the wind
skimmed from the surface of the ocean
they pour into my ears and
curl up inside
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Final Night in Sodom
This triptych poem, also my first triptych chained hay(na)ku, was written for two prompts: Read Write Poem Prompt #50: Gothic (‘Tis the Season) and Poefusion’s Tuesday Title Prompt this week (from Billy Corgan’s book “Blinking with Fists”).
Rather than the old gothic tales we have gleaned so many of our metaphors and cliches from (dark, spooky castles in the middle of nowhere, graveyards, black roses, etc.), I decided to go biblical on your collective poetic asses. This poem, of course, is based on the biblical story of Sodom and Gomorrah.
This triptych poem can be read THREE ways actually, as opposed to two like my other ones. Of course, you can read across, and then down each section. You are also encouraged to read down the columns in all three sections as a third way to read the poem.
WARNING: This poem contains references to violence, sexual assault, and murder. If you are not comfortable with these subjects, I suggest you stop reading now.
If you’d like to read on, then enjoy.
-Nicole
Days That You Will Never Forget
This fib chain was written, actually, for both of the Rocking Chair Prompts this week: “What’s really on your mind?” and “What days in your life will you always remember and why?” Enjoy.
-Nicole
—————————————————-
for
some
it was
Kennedy
gunned down in a car
in broad Dallas motorcade daylight
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Bad Day At Work
A little early for Poefusion’s Friday Five this week, but none the less, here it is. This week’s words were:
social worker
mop
hotel room
beeper
fire alarm
Enjoy.
-Nicole
———————————————————————
my beeper goes off
then the fire alarm screams
dropped my mop, started
now social worker found dead
in hotel room, I just heard
Written 6/12/08
© 2008 Nicole Nicholson. All Rights Reserved.
Tragedy
A man, a deer in headlights. Knives
Caught him before his year had ended:
A mother’s hopes and dreams suspended. Continue reading
