A Terrible Resolve

Grace said:Shutting Down

never knowing the moment when
terrible decisions to make appear
to do or not to do, suffer or not
to make a decision, to die or to live
and the life not her own

mama why does the moon not fall
and be placed on earth for us to climb
to touch its bright sparkly glow...
.....


Thank you, Grace, I had to take a minute.  I appreciate... you sharing.-- Jade💟

Jade-Pandora said:

Thank you, Grace, I had to take a minute.  I appreciate... you sharing.-- Jade

The pleasure is all mine, Jade.

~ Gringo

    the Gringo dropped a ten
on a hostesses dresser somewhere
in a run-down mining~slash~gamblers town
refastened his dead grandfather's gun slinging hat
above his kerosene laced breath
~old whiskey from an old friend~
and walked out of the whores
and the saloons and headed south east
from north west back to Mexico
where sins between men were forgiven;

    he remembered a girl once
in a dingy Catholic dress
with a black beaded Rosary
dangling just above her summer's breasts;
when he kissed her, he missed her
she was that bullet strain in his heart,
that rock hard caliche fornicating against his skin;
she was the next best thing to any sin,
stagecoaches and killing men;
she was The Good ~ when she smiled,
The Bad ~ when she cried, The Ugly ~
when she died in his arms, gasping on
gangrene blood like a chilled winter's death in August
where the humidity wept against the parched fleshes
howling through the desert ghosts like the wind
blowing tumbleweeds over dead men's hearts
their living souls hoping that a good death
would find him someday
clutching her black Rosary beads and
an old friend's ol' bottle of whiskey ~
two Our Father's, two swigs away
from being merely a whisper

            The growing cancer cell
Look at them fester
See them grow.
He sat crossed armed against a ivory table.
He stared into his glass lens
Black spots appeared across the lens.
He wiped it off with his white napkin.
And waited...
Look at the them fester.
See them grow.
He drank from his wine golden cup.
And watched the wine spill.
More black spots appear.
Cells growing, brains forming .
A fish splashed from the dish.
A lizard growled .
A monkey climbed.
A arrow shot.
A bullet fired.
A man stood up from the small out grown dish.
And aimed a gun at the man.

And fired....

DevlinDLC said:
~ Gringo

    the Gringo dropped a ten
on a hostesses dresser somewhere
in a run-down mining~slash~gamblers town
refastened his dead grandfather's gun slinging hat
above his kerosene laced breath
~old whiskey from an old friend~
and walked out of the whores
and the saloons and headed south east
from north west back to Mexico
where sins between men were forgiven;
......


Thank you, dear Devlin, for sharing this poem in the competition.💟 As soon as I saw its title, I started to hear a song in my head, and this is why (which I thought you and others might find interesting, I know I did when I was knee-high to a grasshopper)  An excerpt from Wikipedia:

"Green Grow the Lilacs is a folk song of Irish origin that was popular in the United States during the mid-19th century.

The song title is familiar as the source of a folk etymology for the word gringo that states that the Mexicans misheard U.S. troops singing "green grow" during the Mexican-American War."

Backwoods Brokedown

Another day alone in my hard work travail...    
and knocks at my door ?    
None other than my Mama and mines shinin knight errant...    
   
I smile and squeal...    
"Pardon." I say with a blush..    
He lifts my chin..."Dolly, i live to make you smile and giggle...    
Dont ever be sorry..Your laughter is music.."    
He carries in a load of firewood for our stove, dumps it..turns    
Looks at me straight in my melting eyes...    
   
I feel like a lit candle burning down fast flamed by blustery wind ..    
He digs in his sack and hands me a gift.    
A gift?    
I had never received a gift, wrapped purty like as a real Birthday package..    
It was pink paper tied up in red ribbon...    
I immediately thought how loverly I might be with that red in my dark hair...Mama would take a switch to my behind for wearing red...    
And fir my vain thoughts...    
   
"Are you going to stare or open it Angel?" he said, his jocund eyes danced...    
   
With careful hands i undid the ribbon...    
Looked like rubies to mih...
"Let me tie it to your braid." he said...    
I turn..i bloomed in his touch....    
Him touchin my hair..    
Him seeing it loose on mih shoulders..    
Feelin his hands touch the back of my neck, and I swear i felt his touch plum throughout my body.    
It was a licentuous feeling...    
Wicked Mama would thank...    
But Mama's concerns were growing faint in my mind....    
All of my thoughts were on my knight...    
   
"Oh! Angel! You look ravishing...now open it!"    

"Open it?"
   
I had forgotten there were an inside to this gift...    
Careful with the pink paper, I aimed to save it and put it in my special box i hid in a loose timber under the cellar floor...    
I opened it...its shine reflected in my puzzled smile...
My eyes saw, but i did not understand. Twas a key.    
   
I looked up at him, my eyes asked the question?    
   
"For your new house in Savannah Dolly. Your Mama too of course. You will never have to go hungry again. You will live in the lap of luxury. Your children will have my fortune. You are of age, I will take care of you. You will be my love."    
   
"Oh mih Gooodness! Marriage! Yes! oh Yes!" my heart pounded...    
   
My heart pounded, he picked me up by my waist and threw me on the bed. He lifted my skirts and spread my thighs. His fingers probed my hot cunny and kissed me there... I had never known such...never even touched myself there. I felt wet heat and pressure, a lovely warm pressure that i was desperate to release..As he undid his trousers i shook, uncertain if this was right, i said....    
Sir, is it proper i give my virgin blood before we are fully betrothed?    
   
"Well Dolly, I have a wife. Of convenience..You will be my Mistress. But it is you I love my sweet." He smiled as if he had just offered me the world....    
   
"Will these children...of mine, yours...whose name will they have?"    
He looked at me long and hard.    
   
I untied my precious red ribbon....gave him an end. He held it between his first finger and thumb. I held the other end high and looped it through the whole in the ornate key, the key slid down the red ribbon to his hand.    
   
"No Sir." I said. Blinking back the durned tears in my eyes.    
   
"Goodbye Dolly" he turned and walked out the old wood door. "I do love you."    
   
"I do love you too Sir." my night was going home.    
To his wife.    
   
After a bit I jes ran and I ran so far...and collapsed in wails of sorrow.    
   

what to believe in


life found her alone
and conspired....

so long had it been
since she had known love
she stepped into it with
eyes wide open,
give her something to believe in

they  fell into each others arms
he was so nervous
the first time
he shook as he held her
she held him tighter,
pulling him to her
and it was powerful
please, give her something to believe in

'this is what 'real' love feels like" he said.
she believed him
she felt it too,
she could see it in his eyes
feel it in his touch
everything about him was love
thank you, for giving her something to believe in




and then death took him away from her
she doesn't understand
they had just found each other,
she's not sure which is crueler
that she's here alone,
or that he is in the stars
without her

why?
why did you give her something to believe in?

Written by jemac

Jade-Pandora said:

Thank you, dear Devlin, for sharing this poem in the competition.  As soon as I saw its title, I started to hear a song in my head, and this is why (which I thought you and others might find interesting, I know I did when I was knee-high to a grasshopper)  An excerpt from Wikipedia:

"Green Grow the Lilacs is a folk song of Irish origin that was popular in the United States during the mid-19th century.

The song title is familiar as the source of a folk etymology for the word gringo that states that the Mexicans misheard U.S. troops singing "green grow" during the Mexican-American War."



Miss Jade(y), you are most welcome, and I will look into the song. . .I have a passion for the Old West (which is only natural considering that I live in Arizona), my only regret is that I don't visit Tombstone as often as I would like.  "Gringo" reminds me of the BirdCage Theatre. . .it is such a magnificent piece of history. . .~Devlin.

ilovescarystories said:             The growing cancer cell
Look at them fester
See them grow.
He sat crossed armed against a ivory table.
He stared into his glass lens
Black spots appeared across the lens.
He wiped it off with his white napkin.
And waited...
Look at the them fester.
See them grow.
......
.
Thank you very much, ilovescarystories dear, for sharing your poem in the competition. -- Jade💟

calamitygin said:Backwoods Brokedown

Another day alone in my hard work travail...    
and knocks at my door ?    
None other than my Mama and mines shinin knight errant...    
   
I smile and squeal...    
"Pardon." I say with a blush..    
He lifts my chin..."Dolly, i live to make you smile and giggle...    
Dont ever be sorry..Your laughter is music.."    
He carries in a load of firewood for our stove, dumps it..turns    
Looks at me straight in my melting eyes...    
   
I feel like a lit candle burning down fast flamed by blustery wind ..    
He digs in his sack and hands me a gift.    
A gift?    
.....

Thank you, Jennifer, I appreciate you sharing your poem in the competition. == Jade💟

jemac said:what to believe in


life found her alone
and conspired....

so long had it been
since she had known love
she stepped into it with
eyes wide open,
give her something to believe in

they  fell into each others arms
......

Thank you so much, jemac, for your poem, to share it with us in the competition. -- Jade💟

         Socorro

the dark men rode in
tall.   heavy leather coats
eyes under shading stetsons
horses nervous. nostrils steaming
Last Chance Saloon (for a good reason)
many whiskey bottles
relinquish their souls

what is a woman
he wonders if he remembers
the soiled doves, they know a man’s respite
he chooses one, small, hair with fancy ribbons
her skin is soft.  he will hurt her
but she makes no complaint

in her saddle.  she carries him
someplace beyond the lonely hills
sweet as home

back in his boots
he looks at her.  for a long minute
the copper dawn calls them.  cowboys
they ride on
across purple sage

when he looks at the sky
he sees her eyes

JohnFeddeler said:          Socorro

the dark men rode in
tall.   heavy leather coats
eyes under shading stetsons
horses nervous. nostrils steaming
Last Chance Saloon (for a good reason)
many whiskey bottles
relinquish their souls

what is a woman
he wonders if he remembers
......



Ah, thank you John, for your poetic offering, to share it in the competition. -- Jade💟

Wow!  The competition has barely gotten off the ground, and look at the results so far!  I thank all of you who have posted your entries at this point; all of them fit the theme in their own unique way.

Let's hit this out of the ballpark!✌️
Jade💟

Baptized


Heavy-lidded & pissed,
I followed the trail
of his spume from where
she laid, flushed & frail,

to keep it in my head,
preserving the image of
why I let it happen, made
by a sadistic betrayal.

Why I'm still drawn to it,
unable to look away from
where he now reclines.
He should feel lost & dazed,

but I'm the one in my stupor
who can't focus, indifferent.
Morosely spinning, self-medicated
voyeur, from a second bottle.


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