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