Day Fifteen - April PAD

THE INSULT

Her face a mask

Impossible to read

ebony hair, dark as

the early morning gloom

Blood red coat

buttoned to her chin

black leather boots

that kiss her knees

Velvet riding helmut

strapped under her chin

cruel whisper of the crop

as it slashes the air

Leather boots creaking

voicing restless agitation

back, forth and back again

thru the carpet forest

A card on a silver tray

brought by cutaway butler

shredded to hurled confetti

a moment of red rage

Silky shoulders slump 

like a deflated ballon

then her arrogant chin lifts

a fox smile on her lips

Janice Kuykendall

April 15, 2012

Day Fourteen - April PAD

DOOMSDAY

The night was innocent

And ripe with promise

He showered and shaved,

put on his best dress shirt

Placing his hat carefully

on his freshly combed hair

he lowered his head 

and gave the old mirror

his most beguiling look

His fingers slid round the brim

and snapped the tip

then he stepped out 

into the balmy night air

The old pick-up sputtered to life

He could already hear the music

the remembered notes 

She'd be there tonight

It was over, the final decree

that said she was blissfully free

He waited for and hour

that rolled into two, then three

fear tore at his heart

sweat broke out on his brow

he remembered the rage,

helpless as he held her hand

while she told of abuse

fear pushed him to the door

the night was dark and starless

as he raced the silent street

red lights had no meaning

he smoked his tires to a stop

the ring of the pistol shot

stopped him cold 

but the terrified scream

melted his frozen muscles

she stood over him, gun in hand

he lay in a pool of red 

to save her from the awful shame

he gladly took the blame

dressed demurely,she came to the trial

laid her hand on the bible,

and swore an oath 

but the teary story she swore was true 

sealed his doom and broke his heart 

she looked his way as she stood

a tear ran down on her cheek

but the truth was in her eyes 

he would pay with his life

for the woman he loved 

and wanted for his wife

Janice Kuykendall

April 14, 2012

Day Thirteen - April PAD

I mean no disrespect to one of my favorite poets, Edgar Allen Poe. I just thought it might be fun to lighten up this prompt and pay homage to the master of macabre. It is a poor attempt at best, but I had fun with it.

GROUNDED

Once upon a night most weary,I contemplated, 

tired and bleary

over many a thumbed and dog eared volume of 

forbidden lore

While I dozed, nearly slumping, 

suddenly there came a thumping

as of someone loudly knocking,  

knocking on my bedroom door

It's only father, I grumbled, here to implore

It'll be that and probably more

Yes, I remember it was a sad, 

cold November

And I knew in my very marrow, 

what I had put off until tomorrow

the lessons I had failed to follow

would now bring me great sorrow

For, sadly I was about to walk 

the straight and narrow

I had no options to explore

It'll be that and probably more

But each angry curse, 

brought on hysterical mirth

as silly images of his mad 

and blustering visage

Rattled and danced across 

my brain most addled

So now to broker my wild 

and maniacal laughter

I did something I will regret ever after

I looked my father in the eye and ask him why

He sputtered at my absurd gumption 

to utter such a presumption 

I really had him railing 

about my latest, dismal failing

If had I only studied harder, 

I might be a just little smarter

and with a a parting bash

he yelled, get rid of the trash

before we come to an impasse

and nobody likes a wise ass 

I'm that and probably more

Janice Kuykendall

April 13, 2012

Day Twelve - April PAD

SOMETHING HOT

The Red Hot Chili Peppers

and Marilyn Monroe

Hot springs  

a summer day in New Mexico

diamond rings

and long, steamy love letters

The Sahara desert

and hot toddies

girls in bikinis

with curvy bodies

James Bond, a martini

and Harrison for dessert

A summer moon

your best girl by you side

a yellow convertible

a souped up ride

the pedal to the metal

and the radio wailing a favorite tune 

Falling in love 

Champagne, white lace

good poetry

a cozy fireplace

perfect symmetry

and a cabin with a loft above

Janice Kuykendall

April 12, 2012

Day Eleven - April PAD

RHYMING SEASON

I try and try to write in rhyme

Again and again on the paper

I dash word after word in vain

my noggin has nothing but vapor

pushing and drilling my exhausted brain

Maybe I'll be able to write in time

Now my little grey cells are vacant

searching furiously for fine words

sifting through my dull, jaded mind

for nouns, adjectives and verbs

but no eloquent phrasing I find

between my ears remains dormant

Janice Kuykendall 

April 11, 2012

Day Ten - April PAD

IT'S CALLED PROGRESS

The tree stood in the middle of the garden

under it's cool canopy, 

the young couple pledged their hearts 

each to the other forever

the years passed,their family grew 

children played under the canopied shade

little girls with their dainty tea parties,

the boys built a tree house with a sign

posted below that said "Keep Out"

The years passed and grandchildren 

played under it's spreading canopy

a bench built round it's twisted feet

so the old couple could sit and read

their backs resting against it's sturdy trunk

the tree was happy and grew complacent

then the old couple stopped coming

and a memorial service was held

under it's aging, spreading bower

the children and grandchildren moved away

and the big house fell into decay

the old tree stood alone and lonely

sighing in the restless, changing wind

the only visitors were couples or teens

seeking privacy to steal a kiss or more

the curling, gnarled bark felt many a knife

It's skin tattooed with proclamations of love

then came a day, hot and noisy

with the big machines all around

a violent tremor shook it to it's roots

as the sting of an axe

it's hard, sharp, blade 

bit into it again and again

until it split it's heart, a loud crack

with a shuddering groan it stood no more

It's called progress..

Janice Kuykendall

April 10, 2012

Day Nine - April PAD

WE SAT IN THE SHADE

We sat in the shade that day

you and I, heat rose from the sidewalk

and I gave you the last of my water

you panted, I stroked your matted fur

you licked the sweet candy smears

from my dirty, sticky fingers

I tucked my knobby knees under my dress

and you laid your head in my lap

We sat in the shade you and I

a cool breeze lifted a wisp of my hair

I brushed it back and wiped a tear

from my grimy cheek

You looked at me with soulful eyes

that begged me to take you home

And I knew I would, 

because you must have lost someone

just like me 

and I knew that daddy

wouldn't say no that day

that day that had started like any other

with daddy and momma hardly speaking

he called me from the house

and we sat in the shade in the front yard

while momma packed a suitcase

climbed into the waiting car

and drove away with one last glance

at daddy and I sitting in the shade

Janice Kuykendall

April 9, 2012

Day Eight - April PAD

THE FINAL REJECTION

I sling my purse on the table

shrug out of my coat

calling your name

you come to stand

silently at my side

your eyes searching my face

with a question mark look

I pour out the sad tale

of my day sunk in black gloom

the alarm clock failed 

the old water heater decided to quit

cold shower, empty shampoo bottle

frantic search for lost car keys,

only to find them in my coat pocket

tripped and broke the heel of my shoe

on the back step only to behold

a flat tire, and then to add to my woe

a flat spare, trip on the same step

in my rush back in to call a cab

search through my jumbled closet

for another pair of matching shoes

an hour and twenty minutes late to work, 

coffee spilled on my new suit,

the boss shreds my report,

humiliating me in front of everyone

my secretary smirks 

while I dictate a new report

I sputter and spew

while you remain silent

finally I reach to pat your head

and you turn and walk away

your tail defiantly in the air

you pause at your empty food dish

turn, sink down on your belly

placing you head on your paws

with a final disgruntled whine

I sink in the nearest chair 

kick off my tight shoes

remembering why I never wear them

I rip open the crumpled letter 

I retrieved from the floor

where I dropped it and stepped on it

while fumbling for the door keys

I stare, uncomprehending, I read it twice, 

Thank you for your query, however……..

Janice Kuykendall
April 8, 2012

Day Seven - April PAD

ANGER

You turn your head 

I can see by the thin slash of your mouth

and the tiny furrow between your brows

that you are angry

you try to hide it from me 

with a thin smile that doesn't reach your eyes

my mouth opens, but

I am arrested by a slight shake of your head

my hands drop to my sides

a soft sigh, my shoulders deflate 

you carefully lay your book on the table

a gesture of tight control

and I know you are fighting hard

to keep your anger from exploding

I slip into the chair across from you

and spread my hands flat on the table

staring at them instead 

I can feel your eyes boring into me

daring me to make excuses

but of course I have none

Janice Kuykendall

April 7, 2012

Day Six- April PAD

COFFEE

Oily, brown beans

kept sealed in the freezer

clatter into the grinder

like brown pearls, glistening

the whir of the blades

drowns all conversation

loose brown powder 

spills into the white paper sleeve

fresh water in a clear urn

poured quickly into the reservoir

flip a switch, a pungent smell

invades the room

it's heady aroma 

calls forth the zombies

led by their noses

one by one they 

shuffle into the kitchen

grab their favorite cup

a splash of milk in this one

a dollop of cream in that one

strong brown gold

hidden in a little brown bean

jumpstarts the morning!

Janice Kuykendall

Arpil 6, 2012

Day Five

MY MOTHER

Wearily she places her hand upon her rounding tummy

what foolishness convinced her this would work

there was too much distance between them

too many hurtful, harsh words flung in moments of heat

the baby moves away from her probing hands

perhaps sensing her misery 

she had been too young to marry, anyone could see that

now she was saddled with one child and another on the way

there had been a chance, but momma scolded her

a husband and child made you responsible 

too responsible to turn your back and run away

but she had wanted to go, to be anywhere but here

she didn't want this child that burdened her body

a husband worn thin from hard work 

dust and heat that clogged her brain

they told her another child would heal the wounds

wounds they had inflicted on one another

marriage was a holy bond, not to be broken

but she longed for another life, any life 

where she would be young and free

free of cattle, children, dust and heat

and most of all a husband she didn't love

but she would stay until the baby was born

Then she would leave us

my brother, my father and me

           Janice Kuykendall

           April 5, 2012

Day Four

100 PERCENT FOOL

I am 100 percent fool 

for when I am around you

My tongue becomes clumsy

pushing foolish words

from my silly, smiling lips

I act the fool when you smile

lips, but that I could softly kiss

your teeth like precious pearls

music of the angels when you speak

I am running to pick up the flowers

that fall from your pretty mouth

Happiness is a seat next to you

grabbing the scraps of your words

wolfing them down like a hungry dog

you turn your head and your hair

dark as the midnight sun

falls across your lovely shoulder

in my mind I see my fingers

threading through it silken strands

Yes, I am 100 percent fool

for you don't even know I am alive

You look through me when he enters

The glow from your eyes lights the room

I see love stand between the two of you

a magnet pulling at your hearts

and the love I foolishly hold for you

falls to the cold, hard floor

to shatter like my silly porcelain heart

Yes, I am 100 percent fool

      Janice Kuykendall

      April 4, 2012

Day Three

THE ALMOST APOLOGY

Should I say I am I sorry

I suppose

You were almost right

when you said I was wrong

But how wrong was I

or was I wrong at all

The things you said were not quite right

The things I said were almost right

Just how right was I

or was I right at all

Who was right and who was wrong

Or were either of us 

right or wrong at all

Should I suppose I'm to blame

Or did you cause it all

So am I sorry

Now I'm not sure at all

Janice Kuykendall

April 3, 2012

Day Two

VISITORS

I am bent with age, just like the old tree on the hill

my hands are gnarled and spotted

like the curled bark and tangled roots

I have less hair and fewer teeth

and the old tree's branches are bare bones

her sap has thickened and stilled

my blood is heavy and moves slowly

through my clotted veins

my bones creak as I slowly lower myself 

to sit beneath her empty canopy

Her branches rub and sigh in the soft wind

gently whispering to me, our time is almost up

after all, we are only visitors

who have outstayed our welcome

                  

Janice Kuykendall

                  April 2, 2012

Day One - APRIL PAD

THE LETTER

I knew at once, the delicate pink space

the thin spidery lines, like living black lace 

spreading across the thin parchment 

Even though it had been years

I still knew the slant of her hand

I could see the touch of her fingers

I swear I could even smell her perfume

Her throaty laughter rose from the paper

And pierced my heart, like an arrow from hell

I could see the sweep of her long black hair

as it fell over her pale shoulder

the look in her dark eyes, the amusement

that fell from her full lips as she told me

she didn't love me, had never loved me

I felt the pain anew as my trembling hands

tore open the seal on the thin envelope

she and my only brother whispered in my ear

fool, such a fool, how could you not see

what all others knew, what you knew

but would not see, could not see

Now the thin black letters rose up

and choked my throat with unshed tears

my heart shattered into a million pieces

my brother, my betrayer was dead

                       JANICE KUYKENDALL

                       APRIL 1, 2012