Woman

Woman on a Brick Wall - RONE

Woman on a Brick Wall -- RONE

From in the shadow she calls
And in the shadow she finds a way
And in the shadow she crawls
Clutching her faded photograph
My image under her thumb
Yes, with a message from my heart

- Tori Amos

The day lights up, cold and blue. Cloudless.
Wings unfolding.
The light gives birth to a woman’s face, plastered onto brick,
watching the streets with two narrow eyes like bisected almonds that drip
faint streaks of branching red below. And she has seen
enough.
For this, she is weeping.
The great mystery of the decade:
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Masterpiece

I’m a little late for Monday Mural, but the image was so inspiring…that I wrote this poem for it. Enjoy.

-Nicole

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I would caress
her soft, painted back now
but I would ruin the art
before my hungry eyes
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Roses

This was written for two of this week’s Writer’s Island prompts (Coercion and Awakening) and was inspired by this post on The Diva Muse’s Blog (allthingsbootylicious.com) as well as experiences from my own adolescence. I wrote this in a hay(na)ku chain. Enjoy.

-Nicole
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Roses
don’t open
before their time; Continue reading

Kraken

Kraken
WIP-Kraken by *DaKraken
A Public Service Announcement
from the Founder

Okay, you’ve found the picture. Why not stay for the poetry?

I encourage you to either read my online chapbook, Open the Door, or my currently blogged poems. It won’t cost you anything, and you might read something you really like.

Saludos,

Nicole Nicholson
Founder, Raven’s Wing Poetry

This was inspired by a poem on David Pitchford’s blog entitled “Swimmer” and a response written by Mother2Rah entitled “Tread Water”. I decided to take a crack at it (no pun intended) from the Kraken’s point of view. I would suggest you read their poems first before reading “Kraken”.

Before y’all say something, I am aware this is not in Chaucerian roundel style, as per my experiment for this week. You will see a post tonight, wrapping up the details of my experiment.

-Nicole
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Hungry

Hunger -
Rising in my belly,
Brewing in my chest;
A gnawing need gnashing its teeth on my soul.
This goes beyond mere appetite,
Beyond the mountain tip-top of want
(The dastardly beast which growls in my flesh
And reminds me that I am a
Woman
And not a disembodied head of ponderings
Or a deep violet bucket of melancholy and feeling).
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