Ruby S

A Silver Star

 

Silver, like a dragon’s scales

Cold as glistening ice

A hippopotamus in a crystal pond

The color of magic

It’s the shimmer of the morning dew

Like a star so far away

A glint in your eye

A throb in your heart

The sparkle of a sun-soaked spring


Cinnamon Roll

Oh, Cinnamon Roll.

You are caramel,

thick and tan.

You melt in my mouth.

Your sweet icing

plays games with my

tongue.

Your long body hugs

my taste buds.

You wake me up in the morning,

freshly baked.

Your steam curls

up into my nose.

The sweet,

sugary scent.

You’re perfectly

round

And perfectly

twisted.

Oh, Cinnamon Roll.


I Work for You

 

I am always near you,

somewhere.

Spotted around every corner,

on every block.

But I am yet to be appreciated.

Passed by like nothing is there.

Like a leaf.

I work all day,

and sometimes,

through the night.

You don’t notice my grimy

hands and face,

because your eyes

are drawn

to my reflective, neon vest.

I keep you safe.

I place traffic cones

and barriers.

I build.

I demolish.

My heavy duty machinery

aids me.

I work through

thick and thin,

rain and snow.

Temperatures from

over one hundred degrees

to under zero.

I am not the only one.

There are thousands of me.

Often overlooked,

like loose change.

“Nothing special”, they say.

It may appear that I am stereotypical,

but I am unique.

My job may be dirty

but that doesn’t mean I am.

I do what must be done.

I help you more than you

know.

I build your home,

your shelter.

You need me.

But I’m not the same as the rest.

I’m not just your everyday

Construction Worker.

We are all different.


The Life of Loose Change

I forced my newborn, groggy eyes open and squinted into the blinding light directly above me. I was burning, a fiery wheel. Fresh from the mint, perfectly shaped, perfectly printed. I glistened, brighter than my brothers. Though I was worth hardly anything at all, I felt like a million bucks. A rich, copper jewel shining against the coal black conveyor belt. I flipped into a nose-dive. Plummeting towards a wide brown box on the vast ground. We were plunged into darkness, with no way out. Sealed, air tight. There was barely enough oxygen for me to breath, let alone my thousands of companions.

The journey was long and tiresome. We tried to entertain ourselves. My sisters gossiped. My brothers played. But, I was at rest. Awaiting the moment when the vehicle would stop and light could be seen again.

Days later I was placed in a tight, gloomy cash register. Only to be instantly grabbed by a squid like hand and passed on to another.

I stayed in that wallet for what felt like decades. I went into a dormant state. I rarely took took the time to breath. Barely enough willpower to stay alive. We had been lost, forgotten in a corner. People came and went. Decorating the old, abandon house with graffiti and cigarette smoke. Until finally, a new leaf was turned. A new family entered. New paint was applied; the smokey scent, diminished. A young girl called our room her own. She reached for us and found our gentle bodies, that were coated in dust. She wiped us down. She broke us up. Some were thrown into a pond of crystal water, left to rust. Others were placed in a pink, pig-shaped bank. I was left in a small rectangular purse, awaiting my fate.

Soon, all in the blur of a single moment, the zipper flew open and many of my comrades were taken to the surface and granted a fresh breath of air. But, I went the other way. I shot towards the ground, unnoticed.

I baked there in the hot sun until finally a boy of about 14 stopped in front of me and stared. He bent at the waist and brought his outstretched fingers for me. I fliched, dreading the contact. He carefully placed his soft hands on my rims and stored me in his warm, fur-lined pant pocket. When the boy returned to his dwelling in the dimming sun that night, he undressed and settled the clothing where I was held captive into a large white machine.

I was tossed about, enclosed in suds and water, dragged with the current from the pocket, my cell. I was yanked around and thoroughly soaked as the monster rattled on. Eventually, the looming door of my cage of misery was ripped open with a creak and the dim light engulfed the fabric, drowning me. A young girl reached her clammy hands into the cave.

I sat in terror, trying  to make myself small so as not to be noticed. But she found me. She wrapped her snake-like fingers around my metal body and lifted me into the air.

The witch took me outside, and as if it was a joke, she held me over an open sewer. She released. I tumbled down the chute and traveled through the pipes until I splashed into a large body of water, where I sank. Down, down, down.

The thick layer of germs that covered my slender body washed away. I sank into the sand, watched a fish pass above me. This was my final resting place. I would never be found, never be discovered. Left to lie there forever. Pondering my own what-ifs.

 


Writer’s Block

I am at a loss

for  w  o  r  d  s  .

I can’t think,

can’t create.

My mind is ____ .

What

to

      Write?

My pen isn’t spitting ink

onto my paper

like it normally does.

It’s too loud.

Or too quiet

I have no inspiration.

I need  h  e  l  p.

I’ve got my knickers in a twist

My brain is upside down.

My heads

in  

    the

Clouds.

Just writing this is

challenging

I can’t stick any

words together today,

not without glue.

Nothing is coming to

m

  i

    n

       d

Sentences don’t sound

r  i  g  h  t.

I keep crossing things out…

left and right constantly.

I can’t stop

not thinking.

It feels like I

unlearned

all of what I knew.

My brain is spaghetti,

a giant

meatball.

I have a headache,

I’m throbbing.

I

 need

      it

        to

           stop!

Without inspiration

There is no creation

 

I just have

no

spark.

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s