Quadrille#27 Monday

Today is quadrille Monday and De Jackson is hosting the prompt. The word to use in your 44 word poem (not including the title) is giggle, giggles, giggling, or giggler. Come join us and real these wonderful short poems at: https://dversepoets.com/2017/02/27/quadrille-27/

Mr. Giggles

The old man is bent like a pretzel.
He has this perpetual Joker smile
a buzz haircut,
and is dressed in identical sweats every day.
His head snaps from left to right
Constantly – he giggles without stopping.
Even in his sleep he giggles.

Kyūketsuki – vampire

I am linking this to dVerse’s Open Link Night. This is a non-prompted poetry event where you can link a poem of your choice. My mother has Alzheimer’s. I am grieving.

Kyūketsuki – Vampire
the vampire is a day walker a night stalker –
I go to my mother’s room and there
he is – wrapped tightly around her
forehead against her white hair –
a look of nightmarish orgasm on his face.
Get away from my mother I shout
But he just smiles –
I don’t care who she is.
I don’t care who you are.
I don’t care about any of you except that you are my food.
I feed off your hopes, dreams, tears….memories.
I will feed until you are dead or worse than dead….
I pull my sword and as I pull it free from its shi
I see it is a plastic sword – A parody of child’s toy.
See? Nothing you can do.
I go to my mother and put my arms around her
Holding her close, trying to break his hold on her.
Her soft pansy brown eyes are blank and yet unbearably sad.
The vampire chuckles –
That was a nice juicy bit – the first time your father kissed her.
It is mine now.
But with lazy grace he decides to leave.
Next time you feel that bit of warmth on your neck remember:
It is not a spring breeze or the sun,
It is my breath as I follow you, close behind.
Now my mother’s eyes are clear and she is tired, wants a nap.
I ease her back onto her pillow and kiss her forehead, her cheeks,
Her frail hands. Be at peace mama. I’m here.
She smiles and closes her eyes.
So no one will hear, I go into the bathroom and bury my face
Into my large towel.
I sit on the toilet and howl and rock with pain
Until I can go out the door with a smile plastered on my face
And calm in my voice.
I look into the mirror and see my mother’s eyes looking back at me.
I feel the warmth on my neck and I shiver.

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Quadrille #6

Today at dVerse Pub is Quadrille Monday. We are to write a poem of exactly 44 words, not including the title from the prompt word Grace gave us today: “twist”.  Come visit us today.  The poems are short but can be intense.  Come visit and read!  https://dversepoets.com/2016/04/18/quadrille-7/

Reality Served Shaken

At the Life Bar
Perched on a high stool
staring into the mirror
behind the bar,
I can’t see me at all.
All I can see is my mother
disappearing into the
Dementia Mists – I didn’t order but was
served bitters with a twist.

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