Poetry Prompt Sundays

This week’s prompt by The Literati Mafia

guide words: plane, crane, harp

I wish I heard the harps playing,
as promised to me once,
feel the light of heaven’s grace
fill my soul, empty the pain

I wish I knew of greater heights,
cycles contained, still they haunt
indemnities for debts unpaid,
life’s weight to bare accumulates

no phoenix, I refuse to rise,
from ashes burnt to particles
dispersed by thunder, wind and rain,
fueled by anger, hurt, and rage

I seek to scale the mighty walls
I’ve built around my wounded heart,
soaring above requires wings,
a plane to reach my destiny

I have the tools to build the craft,
then think of my discrepancies,
stay on the ground, known dirt and soil,
familiar in my agony.

Emily Cloward ©

Music Mondays

The literati mafia

Music Mondays will feature a new song each week. Listen to the music, with or without watching the video, draw inspiration from the featured image, and write a letter, poem, short story, or essay with your thoughts.

Post into the comments section, and link back to The Literati Mafia, if posting on your own blog.

Happy Writing!

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The literati mafia

He is tortured duality,
eyes glistening vacantly,
lips parted callously,
self-inflicted amnesia
from words spoken previously;
he used to be family,
one I sought fruitlessly
love me with purity;
a long-winded fantasy,
naive imagining

charming his way into hearts
of the frail,
undefended attachment,
blinded by veils
promises spoken,
secrets untold,
filthy webs, decay and mold;

don’t think to speak freely,
calm winds of new hope,
seize the moment to leave
like a raft or a rope,
leave the ripples in water,
cleanse body and soul,
of residual thirst,
unquenched by the salt.

Emily Cloward ©

Poetry Prompt Sunday

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If Only

The literati mafia

I used to want to feel the pain from consuming, like an emaciated lion viewing a life-saving meal, peacefully sipping from a pond, unaware of the hunger, survival, desperation of the creature lurking behind her, ready to pounce.

Ready to pounce, without the energy to kill, weakened by days of walking aimlessly after a one-on-one battle with the new kid in town, the one that takes the pride by force, murders the cubs of the females so there’s no complications, he’s free to force himself on them while they’re still mourning the loss of their blood.

I want to feel sorry for him, the one rejected, the one who lost the fight, but he took over the pride at one point, repeating cycles he’s currently on the tail end of, survival, carnal instinct to kill or be killed, eat or be eaten; if he doesn’t find the energy to pounce…

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Dry (Revised)

words please don’t leave me,
need release
surplus incites,
tears swallow me,
voids from pieces freely given,
damaged goods, used, abandoned;
improved upon by those who care,
foggy thoughts attempt despair,
the script I’ve written, ripped apart,
highlights of where I’ve been, am at;
the good times lacking
their fair share,
something’s always lurking there,
happy pursuit, or gray demise,
memories of pain and lies;
knowing I’m not a victim here,
I’ve told my own, had swords to bare,
through words,
my twisted tongue released,
protection from a quiet peace;
can’t blame the ones
that left me here,
still wish they craved
my soul to steer,
lonely alone,
abyss to fill,
one final pour,
come, take a sip;
replenishment will be required,
just want to fill,
be filled together,
melt into me,
ancient desire;


your emotional vampire

Emily Cloward ©

Love of my Life

As I left that day to see a friend, overwhelming sadness flooded, a strain to leave you alone, even for a few hours.

I hugged you and wept, kissed your cheek, felt comforted with you in my arms, you’re used to me getting weepy now, it doesn’t bother you; the cycle of life reminds me, your time at home is swiftly ending.

As I drove, tears flooded my cheeks, remembering the years given to me with you by my side, depending on me to be strong for us both.

I wasn’t in the way I wished, and now I feel gripping presence calling me to make changes, do better by you. My time for taking on the challenges of others at your expense must cease.

Time will slip, the day will come when you leave the nest, and all I will see through blurry eyes is a the piece of me that is you; the core of my heart, moving on to a world I can’t fully protect you from.

The vulnerability and unexplained love I felt for you when you were born, I understand as the most precious bond I have, the most pure.

Our love endures, evolves, and I want to show you I know that what I see when I look at you is real. You, as you are, were and will be, fully accepted, adored, loved and remembered as the love of my life. The only true one.

Emily Cloward © 2018


The literati mafia

backbreaking, heavy
seeking close proximity,
to those who understand there’s pain,
know it can’t all be pretty,
removing their blinders,
they have the will to see
all the worlds around them,
joy and beauty,
intermingled with fire,
depth, wounds, agony

guilt, abandonment,
attachments formed within,
informed by our parents
at the earliest age,
informed by our peers
in our vulnerable years,
informed by society,
cruel lies that it tells

stigmas, poets have them,
bleeding hearts, depressed
unless we choose to
write about nature or art,
we are desperate for love,
in all the wrong hearts,
torturing our minds
with intensity unmatched

this is all just labels,
every poet knows this best,
we are the voices of the voiceless,
writing words from bleeding pens,
and if that makes me a stigma
in society’s fake “zen”,
let it be, let rain come
like cleansing drops from heaven.

Emily Cloward © 2018

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Poetry Prompt Sundays

The literati mafia

Hello dear readers,

We are starting a weekly poetry prompt, and would love your participation in sharing your creativity with us. Prompts are a fun way to see how we interpret guide words, phrases, or pictures, in similar and differing ways.

The rules are simple:

Use any or all of the guide words posted in an original poem. You do not have to use the actual words, feel free to express what you feel from them.

Post the poem in the comments section of each prompt. If you post the poem to your WordPress site, please credit The Literati Mafia for the prompt.

New prompts will be posted each Sunday evening at 9:00.

Prompt 1 guide words:

oil, flicker, darkness

Happy writing!

Follow us on Twitter@LiteratiMafia

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We swayed to the beat of reggae,
both willing surrender to closeness,
hearts booming,
soaking the love like a sponge

when the music was done,
the crowd walked away,
even as we lingered looking at stars, holding closely to moments
profound and fleeting

the weight of the crash
came over me,
thinking you said words you
didn’t say,
fog clearing,
realizing you did just mean
for us to be a summer fling

maybe not,
if I adopt polyamorous views,
couldn’t sink into you,
if only given permission,
a request you can’t bear,
wounds and scar tissue prevent you,
caught up in what ifs and defense,

a replaying of history denies life opportunity to hurt you again,
if you just had a child,
it would all be worth it,
to be left by a lover
you willed to stay,
a lifetime connection formed

children teach the purest love,
motivators for hurdles,
mountains to overcome,
but take it from someone
who has her own,
they solve nothing of pain
or festering wounds

abandonment, ghosting,
they’re here and then gone,
each new knife in the heart,
should keep me by myself,
but it’s just like you said
when we talked on the hill,
my heart stays evergreen,
ready for the next break,
in hopes what I’m seeking is real.

Emily Cloward © 2018

All of the Above

The literati mafia

woke up from my disrupted sleep,
to find you said goodbye to me
after bursting with truth,
a popping balloon,
feelings, confetti all over the floor,
hope like flying embers
from a bonfire left to die,
renewed only by the numbness of dawn.

I must’ve been seeking
a new kind of high;
redemption in your rock bottom,
potential for introspection,

while chasms willed to be formed,
tectonic plates giving way
from the build up of pain,
knowing you once as
someone I had hoped for,
then seeing full color
of blood as the stain;

you may be cleaning it
slowly with effort and work,
but I changed my mind
in a sudden outburst
of what ifs and whys,
I know myself,
my thoughts lay on a platter
informed by all shades and
colors of human experience,
foggy to objective eyes

mantras, affirmations
I use to convince
I’m not afraid of…

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