20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers


2 Comments

It’s infectious (Prose)

It’s infectious
those
with troubled pasts
who
can’t explain or talk it out
the need to expel demons
carried on backs, or those that are
buried deep within hearts
It’s infectious
the mountain is there
that needs to be climbed
a pillow that’s held tight to a chest
a drink that is swallowed, they try to forget
abandoning yesterday’s in place of tomorrow’s
casting aside pain, forgetting past sorrow
It’s infectious
the need to jump fences
run free through the fields
survive what has happened, the need to feel real
to unlock the doors, to open their minds
regain their confidence, leaving darkness behind
words are around you, the answers in sight
write out your feelings…please just write
©jmtacken Feb 2014


Say you love me (Prose)

797da7db86a5627d80208edad4b04e05
as for words sometimes spoken
that make us think
why others speak them, take
three syllables
we long to hear, sealing anxious
weeks or months after we ceased
being a singular I

the anticipation of who will
speak first, should I, should they

I love you
why, I ask what makes you love me
because I’m kindhearted
smile at strangers, a good hostess
in and out of bed, love all creatures
great and small, or perhaps my humour
that can turn your furrowed brow
into whipped cream smoothness

Is it any of these things or these and more
we wait, it’s said, what we started
pure and raw, now concreted with three simple words
and it’s not perhaps till time has passed

when we have grown old together
we look back and it wasn’t about who spoke first
that we see love for what it is
the importance of why it was said
no longer just syllables

©jmtacken Feb 2014


Tommy and Faye (Prose)

img_0511
ocean coloured eyes, auburn curled hair
nestling on her shoulders, stuck with him
the restaurant, crushed napkin folded
kept safe in his worn wallet

her phone number
scribbled in ink, bled from his
sweaty palms over weeks
yet he hadn’t dialed her number

small town, back woods, trying
the best she could, to get out
leave the trailer park, an inner strength
held behind her cerulean eyes

words spoken of her existence
showed determination, he felt weak
amidst her charms, her softness
his a different pain to hers

the napkin dropped near his plate
alongside remnants of mashed potato
beans and meat, he stared at it a while
did she find him attractive

then left, closing the door to her world
to begin again with his, yet
she kept dragging him back, without
a word between them

just this napkin, he couldn’t throw away
she wanted out, she told him so
was he her meal ticket to a better life
to get somewhere, was this his doubt

and then he threw her number away
‘coz he knew he didn’t have the courage
to find out, the risk of being hurt again
to try and make it work

until one summer’s afternoon
when she played so badly on his mind
like a sweet violin
he made a sign

nailed it to the pole
in the street where she worked
and he waited near by
waited and watched for Faye to see

how much she meant to him
how proud he was of her
and how, with lives so different
they were meant to be

©jmtacken Feb 2014


2 Comments

Angel

450px-Sepulcro_con_ángel

draped the angel sleeps
the cold of stone not felt beneath
surround her not with pity
she no longer feels her pain
blind to acts of cruelty
deaf to words of hate

as on earth
an angel once again

do not weep your tears
though your heart may break
as you stand before her
rest a marigold where she lays
remember not her sorrow
her soul now free to touch

the face of the stars

brush the dirt away from her
so she maybe cleansed
from those that caused her death
sit and talk with her a while
and you will hear her plea

I sleep, I ask ~ no tears be shed
just remember me

©jmtacken Sept 2013


8 Comments

Breath

and-awesome-black-black-and-white-couple-Favim.com-283848

I dream of the day we first hugged, my arms
around you holding tight; never letting go
for a million years

Oh how I loved you THIS much

I remember the flower that you picked
a yellow daisy from the ground
I loved you as wide as my arms could spread
those days seem so long ago, through childhood
and adult years;  you kept me safe
I hung on every word you said
back when we were innocent

but

innocence does not stay around
captured moments as a photograph
replaced with pain, lies and distrust
and as I sit amongst the daisies
remembering what we had

I whisper in one breath
don’t ever come near me

again

©jmtacken Sep 2103

 


4 Comments

Street corners

Prostitute Approaching Car on City Street

sounds of revelry 
spatters
the night
split skirts
ride high on corners
trading skin for money

eyes of youth through
windows stare to lie on backs
open legs - knees bent

MISCHIEF

 ~ but never kiss

the lowly have it tougher
battering or death, risks
lined up on the street 
calling 'honey what you want'

are they empty

remembering

the little girls they were
and how they sell themselves
exhibiting their wares
but who am I to judge

the top girls don't have corners 
there's no mayhem in their world
unlike the street lamp hussling
tease and flaunt their 'goods'

they do 'a job', as I do mine
and who am I to say
this is how they live their life
from day ..to day..to day

©jmtacken Sep 2013
Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 3,385 other followers

%d bloggers like this: