JimLamb

Author of “Orange Socks & Other Colorful Tales.” To purchase visit https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00VH6XR38/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_

753 Posts • 916 Followers • 928 Following

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Challenge

Challenge of the Month XXXVII

Give us one page of a book, story, or poem of yours. If it's a poem, it can be up to two pages. We don't care if it's already something you posted. For the big, fat $100, put up your picked page or poem. Winner will be chosen by Prose.

JimLamb

• 12 reads

Midnight — More or Less

It’s cold outside the castle;

Darkness rules the land.

Men dressed deep in whispers,

weapons in their hands.

They stand with iced-precision,

True North in their eyes;

Guards against intruders,

In snake-skin covered lies.

When light comes in the morning,

Death will ride along,

With bloody calculations,

Scented ribbons, & a song.

But now’s the time for waiting,

No hint yet of a fight —

Just mists & dreams, clouds & steam,

Swirling in the Night.

JimLamb

• 32 reads

Light Up Your Life...

Small wooden sticks,

coated with sparks —

light up Day & Night.

(Un-worldy & strange,

they fire up a range —

candles & BBQs, too.)

We live in no shadows,

thanks to potassium chlorate,

sulfur, Gum Arabic, & sugar.

(While some keep matches

to light up lives — others collect

match-book covers in the dark.)

JimLamb

• 30 reads

The Assassin’s Teapot

I'm a little teapot,

pouring tea:

Poison for you,

sweets for me.

JimLamb

• 37 reads

“Here Cat . . . Here Cat.”

The cat on the table

jumps to the floor.

After he's gone,

he's there no more.

JimLamb

• 21 reads

Thump—Cold & slow, they are not dead ...

Ah, the sweet "Thunk-Thump”

of sleepy Iguanas

as they fall from chilled tree limbs

on-to the cool damp ground.

Cold-blooded—

They are not dead,

are not dead,

are not dead.

They may fall from trees—

but they are not dead,

are not dead,

are not dead.

Cold & slow,

they are not dead,

are not dead,

Cold & slow,

they are not dead—

fallin' from chilled tree limbs

on-to the cool damp ground.

Cover image for post Wait . . . What’s That?, by JimLamb

JimLamb in Poetry & Free Verse

• 39 reads

Wait . . . What’s That?

The albino squirrel

(climbin’ the aluminum ladder

leanin’ on the live oak tree

in my backyard)

turns out to be

a fluffy-puffy dried-out paint-roller—

& life’s disappoints continue.

JimLamb

• 38 reads

Thanks to those who’ve supported me over the years

I've worked on my poetry book "Dark Fruit" for more than 10 years. It could not have been published had I not gotten the support I did from fellow Prosers. Thank you.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0B4GPD3VM/ref=sr_1_15?crid=1TN90HB5464BP&keywords=%22Dark+Fruit%22&qid=1655647570&sprefix=dark+fruit+%2Caps%2C316&sr=8-15

JimLamb

• 97 reads

When the Lights Go Out

Eventually the party’s over.

Eventually everybody goes home.

Food’s put away;

Lights turned off.

What's left?

Heartbeats, dreams.

& a restless breath.

JimLamb

• 9 reads

When the Lights Go Out

Eventually the party’s over.

Eventually everybody goes home.

Food’s put away;

Lights turned off.

What's left?

Heartbeats, dreams.

& a restless breath.

JimLamb

• 7 reads

When the Lights Go Out

Eventually the party’s over.

Eventually everybody goes home.

Food’s put away;

Lights turned off.

What's left?

Heartbeats, dreams.

& a restless breath.