Charmed Chaos

Hurricane

I’m sorry I woke you up
in the middle of the night to eat ice cream,
but the hurricane is here and now the power is out
and I don’t know what to do with all the food,
it’s going to rot and start to smell
please wake up now
there’s not one single ice cube to be had
to cool a glass of sweet tea
what I wouldn’t give
for an ice cold glass of tea right now,
with the outside of the glass
sweating in the oppressive humid air
or hell, maybe a beer because
I am really stressed out
about this damn hurricane.

Death

No one lives after taking 20 hits of acid
but you did and I watched over you all night
while you rambled on about nonsensical things
and worried myself sick about whether
you would live or die
you didn’t tell me
what you were going to do
and back then I was so naive, so good
still innocent to the ways of men
with all their talk dressed in Sunday best
that was really hiding the devil within
and yet we made it until morning,
me the watchful protector, you the crazed musician
and finally at last you settled and slept
and I knew enough time had gone by
that you wouldn’t die and I wouldn’t be alone
to live with your death but yes,
death eventually came for you
you had been chasing it for so long
and death finally said, “Okay, you win, let’s go.”

Love

I can’t believe you stood
in the kitchen and screamed
You are a nymphomaniac
and the windows were all open
for it was a hot summer night
and the neighbors probably heard
every word of the argument
while the men in the neighborhood
kept thinking to themselves-
Man, are you out of your mind,
but yes you were at the time
because you had been through
some really tough times
and now here I was
having the audacity
to love you
at the very same moment
a part of your life just ended.

©2020 Linda Lee Lyberg

dVerse Poets Pub: MTB The Death Sentence Amaya is asking us to write up to three one sentence poems with the following rules: Rule #1-The poem must tell a story in one sentence. Rule #2- The poem must explore the theme of ‘the end of civilization as we know it.’ And lastly, there is one more hidden rule that must be followed if your poem is to be a “death sentence” in its pure form: it must be improvised.

Here among wildflowers,
the garden teems with buzzing bees
and early emerging butterflies
all on a fragrant high

For sweet alyssum fills fresh air
with its aromatic tempting scent
Delicate as a spring sigh
startling honeybees in mid-flight,
drawing butterflies to its perfumed lair

©2020 Linda Lee Lyberg

dVerse Poets Pub: Quadrille #97- Filling the Page