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#smallpoems

18 messages13 participants1 message aujourd’hui
Public
Steven Cudahy

pared down
lacking redundancy
to tell what's missing
language flimsy
too mimsy-whimsical
for this dimly lit place
we wrestle meaning
try to figure how
we've got people desperate
to be worse

fragmented signal
shards of meaning sharp
torn apart hearts
too easy to harm
red flooding a crowd
baying for a world no better
for them and theirs
but worse for everyone else
noise like the punch of a drunk
or dogshit smeared
across concrete

#SmallPoems #Poetry #Writing #MastoPrompt 21 April 2025 - garbled

Public
Steven Cudahy

water in scooped earth
rippled by teasing wind
and we're huddled

moonlight gone and stars too
and frost filigree
flowing round our feet

on the horizon
fingertips of sun
testing grip

for the long heave
across the dome
to another fall

such small light
we keep our whispers quiet
as if words could shatter it

and night bows and withdraws
taking with her to keep safe
all we couldn't carry into the day

#SmallPoems #Poetry #Writing #MastoPrompt 19 April 2025 - dim

Public
Steven Cudahy

i'm haunting your ghost
given you seem tied to a place
i'm still free to leave

although i usually don't

spaces you knit from the world
shaped ways you hoped
would safehouse you

the scene of your harm

clatter the bones to shards
and the mind more fragile
just by mis-stepping

hospitalised again

watching you try to stitch together
rags of your shredded mind
to tapestry some meaning

to sheathe the blade of what is

#SmallPoems #Poetry #Writing #MastoPrompt 18 April 2025 - salve

Public
Steven Cudahy

despite all the variables
of the still water
and the clouded sky

and the deep unfolding
of equations being created
and solved via explosions

incoherence-wealthy ranters
seek protected status for lies
like they're types of wine

choosing small and fear
over sharp-tongued hope
knowing harm will ensue

selling the fetid dull crowd
on how it's safe and clean
to make people objects

#SmallPoems #Poetry #Writing #MastoPrompt 16 April 2025 - placid

Public *
Steven Cudahy

the tea is bland
third steeping of scant leaves
and the last dribble of milk

rain on the windows
crowds muttering in the street
an animal or a person screaming

we have run out of words
and although we had a good run
it's been decades since our last fresh idea

if we are lucky
the cannibal children
rafting the rising seas

will find us and feed on us
saving us from lives
completely wasted

#SmallPoems #Poetry #Writing #MastoPrompt 15 April 2025 - original

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