Tag Archives: Melanie Thomason

Torment

 

He didn’t want any prying eyes

Didn’t want some well intention soul

seeing the pain and anger that was bubbling just under the surface

Didn’t  want anyone asking questions

or offering comfort

Yes he was tormented

but the pain was his alone

So, he bowed his head to hide his face

and walked on

~Melanie Thomason

1/12/2021

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Digging

Though time

and time again

I have tried

Sorrow remains

as ever

by my side

I want to bury regrets,

Shame and memories too

I need to get rid of every last trace

of you

 

So I’m digging

deep holes

here,

in the back yard

Even though this soil

is proving to be quite hard

I will persevere,

I will follow through

I’ll dig straight on to hell if I have to

~Melanie Thomason

01/09/2021

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defiant

yellow flower blooms

from beneath dead brown leaves

defiant beauty

~Melanie Thomason

11/18/2020

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want

head down

crying

at the why

chanting

screaming

moaning

black drunk

on the when

still

singing

the

sordid

symphony

of want.

~Melanie Thomason

11/16/2020

 

 

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Rose

Image by Joan Greenman from Pixabay

rose

fiddled with her petals

like a little girl in a frilly dress

dew drops glistening as jewels

as she swayed to the whispers of the wind

and waited for the sun

~Melanie Thomason

11/16/2020

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unlivedin -haiku

stumbling through the days

never chasing after dreams

a life unlivedin

~Melanie Thomason

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Filed under 25 Words or Less, haiku, Poetry, reblog

Gina (a short story)

Gina was tired, bone tired as they say. Her journey had been a long one and she was ready for the end.  She really was but first she just wanted a small respite, some comfort and sleep to prepare herself for what was to be her last official act.  There were only so many times she could run through the recent events in her head and she wasn’t coming up with any solutions anyway. She knew that she wouldn’t.  Her impassioned pleas for assistance had fallen on deaf ears once again so she knew she had reached the end of her journey. What she needed was to just not be conscious anymore, shut her brain off and rest.

She started looking for the ubiquitous road signs for hotels and motels up ahead.  As if on cue, Gina saw the sign for the Venus Bed & Breakfast.  She followed the directions and in no time at all she was pulling up in front of the most charming little cottage she had ever seen.  There were colorful flowers in every windowsill and the entire place was surrounded by a field of sunflowers.  It was gorgeous and Gina could already feel some of the tension melting away.  As she watched a butterfly flutter and land on her hand she felt a calmness that was alien to her.

The smell of freshly baking bread wafted through the open window causing her to salivate.  Gina hadn’t realized how hungry she was until that moment.  She went inside and was greeted with a fresh slice of hot bread with butter and jam before she could even check in.  “Heavenly,” Gina thought.

Her room was perfect too.  A cozy bed, piles of books served as the only decorations and there was a cat curled up in what looked like a perfectly comfy armchair. “Yes, if this is to be my last night, what a lovely night it will be.” she thought wistfully.

So it was.  The next morning, refreshed yet still determined, Gina went to check out of the B&B but found no one at the front desk.  She searched the cottage and finding it empty decided to just leave her key on the counter and go.  “After all,” she thought, “I have something to do and I don’t want to do it here.”  Then to her surprise the door wouldn’t open.  She checked the back door off the kitchen and all of the windows.  None of them would open.

That’s when she saw the envelope on table with her name on it.  “How strange” she thought as she opened and began to read the letter.

Gina,

Please find the enclosed receipt for one day at Venus B&B.  You did know that a day on Venus lasts longer than a year that you are used to?  Doesn’t matter if you were aware or not, you cannot leave.  There is no way.  The windows will not break, don’t bother trying.

P.S.  We do hope you enjoy your stay.

 

“What a pretty prison” she thought as she flicked the blade open and slit her wrists.

~Melanie Thomason

11/13/2020

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Dylan Thomas, whoever he was…

Dylan Thomas Quotes:

On life, on writing, etc

“My education was the liberty I had to read indiscriminately and all the time, with my eyes hanging out.”

“Why do men think you can pick love up and re-light it like a candle? Women know when love is over.”
“I hold a beast, an angel and a madman in me.”

”When one burns one’s bridges, what a very nice fire it makes.”

”Somebody’s boring me. I think it’s me.”

“A good poem is a contribution to reality. The world is never the same once a good poem has been added to it. A good poem helps to change the shape of the universe, helps to extend everyone’s knowledge of himself and the world around him.”

 

Poetry:

~”Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

 

~“And I rose
In rainy autumn
And walked abroad in a shower of all my days…”

 

~“Time passes. Listen. Time passes.
Come closer now.
Only you can hear the houses sleeping in the streets in the slow deep salt and silent black, bandaged night.”

 

~“Time held me green and dying
Though I sang in my chains like the sea.”

 

~“They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.”

~“Especially when the October wind
With frosty fingers punishes my hair,
Caught by the crabbing sun I walk on fire
And cast a shadow crab upon the land,
By the sea’s side, hearing the noise of birds,
Hearing the raven cough in winter sticks,
My busy heart who shudders as she talks
Sheds the syllabic blood and drains her words.”

 

Dylan Marlais Thomas was a Welsh poet and writer whose works include the poems “Do not go gentle into that good night” and “And death shall have no dominion”; the “play for voices” Under Milk Wood; and stories and radio broadcasts such as A Child’s Christmas in Wales and Portrait of the Artist as a Young Dog. Wikipedia

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