A poem written with razors – Wordleing with Sunday’s Whirligig – June 11, 2015

let me speak to you of a secret
in a poem written with rusted razors
found in a summer storm
so many many years ago …
’tis true
the gossips’ whispers buzz and burn
like hornets in heated bronze urns
but bathe your heart in sweet honey
let not the bigots sour your soul –
think nothing of their stinging words
– that alarming tittle-tattle
let them think they are alive
they too are thirsty for love’s embrace
but they lack the courage to seek
the passion of a lover’s touch
so they gossip about what they do not know
quoting gospel as they do.

© G.s.k. ‘15


THIS WEEK’S WORDS come from “Let Me Tell You What a Poem Brings” by Juan Felipe Herrera, the new poet laureate of the United States: secret, poem, speak, razors, bronze, think, sour, thirsty, storm, alarming, bathe, gossip.




Three Word Wednesday Prompt

Stress and strain
Wreck your day
Tattle and gossip
Will ruin your life

Mary was straining her orange juice that morning whilst listening to the news on the radio.

“The author, Mary Jones has been seen cuddling next to world-famous footballer, James Hashimoto at the Flat Top Discotheque over the last few evenings.  We wonder, are orange blossoms in the air?”

She stood there shocked.  ‘What the hell?’ she thought.  She’d been home all week this week and barely knew Hashimoto anyway.

The phone rang: “Mary, Mary Jones .. uhm Hashimoto here.”

“Hi James.  I just heard the news and thank heavens Matt hasn’t yet, he’d ram something down the throat of a couple of journalists!”

“Well, Rebecca’s heard the news and called me right away.  She’s out to ruin you now and there’s nothing I can say to stop her.  I wanted to warn you!”

“But hell, we’ve never been together I’ve been here at home the whole week.”

“Yeah, well I’ve been seeing Margo Neilson…she looks a little like you, you know.  This is just a massive blow-up.  But I couldn’t tell Rebecca or she’d come after Margo…”

“But you could let her come after me?  What the hell do you think will happen when she starts one of her jealous tirades in front of my door step?”

They talked a little longer and she hung-up fuming.

Journalists were roaming around Mary’s front yard within an hour of the news reports that had been transmitted not only on the radio but on national TV as well, with lots of photos.  Over the past few years Margo and Mary had often been mistaken one for the other.  Matt, who always went early to his office at Century News rang Mary to see how she was doing.

“Don’t worry about it dear,” he said to calm her down. “The truth will come out soon enough, it always does.”

“I think I should call the police though.  Hashimoto says that Rebecca is out and about in one of her jealous rages.”

“Well the worse she can do is make a damn fool of herself again.  Listen babe, I’ve got tickets for the Massive Attack this evening…I’ll make sure that there are a few paparazzi friends of mine to take photos.  See where Hashimoto will be with Margo and we’ll have some photos of our own made of them.”

“Ok, I’ll call him … Geez what a ruination of a good day.  I really don’t think I need this sort of strain, not now when I’ve just found out we’re going to have a baby!”

“Just keep cool.  I love you and will be home soon.”

The back door bell rang.  Giuseppina the lady who came in twice a week to help clean, opened the door.  A wild-eyed woman pushed her way past her and ran towards the living-room.

“Where are you, you bitch!  James is mine! Mine you hear!” she shouted at the top of her lungs and pulled out a gun and started shooting.

Giuseppina jumped onto Rebecca from the back and flattened the woman.

“Are you all right signora?” Giuseppina screamed.


Massive, Ruin, Strain – Three Word Wednesday 319


The News – dVerse Sketchbook



Sketchbook Poetry

The News

Tiddle taddle tell me the news
The gossip of a whole big world
All that there stuff I need to know
Like if Bieber will stay or go.

Stupid stuff fills up the program
Things that are there just as fillers
Even though the important things
Seems like propaganda to me

Shilly shally shallow people
Sit my ears on end they do
As the news goes on its way
Telling the world about another day

Tiddle Taddle TV news
You’ll burn inside a Babtist’s hell
You’re just gossips, tongue waggers
Your backbiting’s full of flame.

And if I should turn the TV off
And not pollute my mind today
What would happen then to me
Uninformed and maybe really free?


“So for today, I want us to write “Sketchbook poetry” – poetry that captures a scene – poetry that is immediate and in the moment – jot down what you see – maybe even go for a walk and write outside – go into heavy details with what catches your attention, cut other things out”
dVerse – Poet’s Pub