Sunday, July 24, 2016

A Cuppa

she went first.

it was her way
to settle things early on
broach unpleasantries
teacup in hand

launch earl grey
through spit
shine until done

crepe smile
fingers bent
ditching the cup
in favor of
a lily.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2016

Posted for Poets United Pantry

Saturday, July 9, 2016

The Center of Things

By Alexa Szlávics - Own work, permission:, GFDL,

I am the darkness,
awaiting exposition
by peripheral light.

You come,fear etched
in the many colors of your face.
Do you know that you flow
from my center--
your beauty, from mine?

I will sheath you in death's stillness
but for a moment
before numinous breath
finds you 
and calls you away.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2016

Come share your poetry today at the Pantry

Friday, June 17, 2016

Portraits at Rest

A Rock, by Thyago Hills
wikimedia commons

cool eyes
leak quietude
in umbra.

silence, the mantle i wear.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2016

Sanaa's prompt is Rest. Come join us for a feast of poems at A Dash of Sunny

Also linking up to Poets United Poetry Pantry

Sunday, May 29, 2016

The Dead Speak

"Góndola del tiempo", de Héctor Valdivia.
wikimedia commons

Families gather 
under sheltering sky, 
mourning their dead,
who passed
out and under too soon
toasting memory
with fried chicken and soda,
the heralds of summer..

We too
gather our baskets
and blankets,
a bottle of lemonade
and one of sweet tea
amid black breads
and stinky cheeses,
head for the beach,
climb rocks until our toes
find crabs scuttling
in angry protest
their fiefdoms

I have trouble mourning your dead
I have my own, 
refugees in unmarked graves.
I run from them
from the bombs and the smell of the dead,
their Slavic syllables
of death, a scree in the wind.

Our blood drenches, like yours,
only the land is different
and the way we remember.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2016

For Poets United

Wednesday, May 4, 2016

Secrets' Journeys

wikimedia commons
fractalmandala by Alexa Szlávics artist

i fell from the sky
on a mid-morning, white
as alabaster,

seeking out
the dreamless,
their void a door
left ajar in the night.

i can sail on the detrtis
of dreams unrealized,
their canons unwrit,

verses left muted.

in trees i can always dance
in the chatter of leaves
left to their own devices.

but instead, i found only you,
cocconed in the chaff left behind,
lies left unspoken.

shall we open our eyes
to see where we land?

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2016

Posted for Susan's mid-week motif prompt--Secrets at Poets United

Wednesday, April 27, 2016

Tinged Tales

The Morgue File

she found she breathed best
in the dark
when blue air circled round ears,
in between toes
speaking its tales
in sibilant syllables

she favored tinged tales
that spoke openly
of lies uncovered,
kilned from the craw
of those she left behind.

on wednesdays she pulled
them open
digesting darkened truths
like books shelved too long
foxing eating them
bit by bit
in stale air.

truth held  itself in stillness
vowing no replication
she found she could breathe again.


Audrey Howitt 2016 all rights reserved

Today Susan asked us to write about openness. I find myself drawn to how we uncover lies, often alone--Poets United Mid-Week Motif

Wednesday, April 13, 2016

Magenta is the Word

The Morgue File

by photoholic

sometimes home fades on the lips

minds travel far distances to whisper
about nuanced colors
such as magenta
on days when the sky turns black

not all roads lead to home.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2016

Not sure where this cam from as I tend to love home. But maybe I didn't always.

Posted for Poets United Mid-Week