Sunday, February 8, 2015


Medusa in rags
her frazzled plumage a plethora of motes
dancing wildly, vividly in sunlit beams
through a curtain torn and frayed
until she is adorned with ribbons
Action Figures, by Edith Vonnegut
and glitter that sparkles like jewels.

We are elated in asphalt
rag tag curbs of millennial marble
and foot worn weathered roots
sending rot into upturned concrete.
Now the stars light the streets
popping frenetic flashbulbs
burning images into memories
on transparent freeways of the all everywhere.
Reaching into the clouds
secrets out of sight
monoliths bound by gravity fight the urge to fly.

When the children rise up
to rule the goddess of dust
as the lofty fly high scouring the clouds
trinkets less than gold wend like the serpent
swiftly on a riser, pilfer her good grace
and leave a grave countenance,
a tattoo of platitude on the lined landscape
that is her face.

submitted for Magpie Tales


  1. You really go for it! Great lines! That one about asphalt...really good!

  2. another attack on the concrete jungle; maybe its fair maybe its not; but makes great reading

    have a nice Sunday

    much love...

  3. love especially the third verse! Have a great week!

  4. I liked it all but the third spoke the loudest.

  5. Medusa in rags. You summed it up beautifully.

  6. Such images rising from the walks of today spilling across the lines of today and buried again in yesterday's woes. Perhaps some day....

  7. I love the aged and careworn feeling this poem has

  8. 'The Goddess of dust@....what a cracking definition.

  9. Wow. I am impress-ed. This might be your best write. Fun to see you at Magpie...

  10. oh wow!! whatta lovely take on the prompt!!
    I liked the way you referred to her a medusa and then later goddess of dust!!! interesting take!

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