By Scott Bailey © 2017

I can’t criticize
I am too little
Too belittled
I probably can’t
Even spell it

In response to my daily prompt Criticism

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By Scott Bailey © 2018

Life
Where every step
Is a leap
Without a parachute
Forget that
At your peril

In response to my daily prompt Parachute

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By Scott Bailey © 2018

A simple solution
Deport the deporters
Problem solved

In response to my daily prompt Deport

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By Scott Bailey © 2018

Come the hiding of the sun
And the rising of the dust
Dark Kings will reign over the land
Seas will bleed

Come the hiding of the moon
Rivers will falter
Weeds will claim the land
Towers will fall

Come the hiding of the stars
The ice bears will rend
Thunder will rule the air
Mountains will weep

Come the dying of the fire
The turning will end
The scattered will fail
Nothing more

 

In response to my daily prompt Hide

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By Scott Bailey © 2018

We all see it
All perceive the truth
Children in cages
We know what it means
Here come the memes
The outraged status
Rules the day
Governments
ISSUE STATEMENTS
Then
We turn away
Muttering
Up next?
Ovens
Prepare your placards!

Or is all as it appears?
Where is the truth in what we see?
If we cannot believe what we see – we will give up belief.
And there’s the point.

 

In response to my daily prompt Perceive

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By Scott Bailey © 2015

I love a title
My name underneath
The first few paragraphs
The format
The shape

I love beginnings
I love endings
It’s the struggle in between

In response to my daily prompt Love

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By Scott Bailey © 2018

Employ your words well
To communicate
Not condemn
Listen to all the depths of meaning
Conveyed
Instead of correcting
To shore up
Your sense of superiority

In response to my daily prompt Employ

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Where the White Wolves Dance

By Scott Bailey © 2014

A ring of solid light
Hovers just above the ground
Spinning with infinity
Casts glamour all around
This is
Where the white wolves dance

It is said the be the child
Of the seed of forbidden fruit
Born from secret knowledge
Found on a hidden a hidden route
Around it
The white wolves still dance

The colour pulses wild
Blue, silver and pure white
Dragging hearts round and round
Beneath the starlit night
And so
On the white wolves dance

In a time-worn trench, they dance
Circling below the light
So deep the light they cannot see
The circle is out of sight
Yet still
On the white wolves dance

The circle has been burnt
Into their very eyes
So while the dark wolf dreams
And while the dear time flies
Onwards
The white wolves dance.

So high upon their mountain
On an island on a lake
Isolated and secure from
The world they do forsake
This is
Where the white wolves dance

---

Where the Dark Wolf Dreams

By Scott Bailey © 2014

A deep and dark filled cave
Upon a mountain high
Where no light dares enter
And no echo finds reply
Shallow
The dark wolf dreams

A rumble from within
Deep in the dark wolves throat
The echo of the growl
The terrifying note
Fitfully
The dark wolf dreams

Strong appear the chains
That bind him in his sleep
But stronger still the anger
That grows within him deep
Brooding
The dark wolf dreams

Bitter is the dark wolf’s heart
Long his memory too
Some will be spared his wrath
But they are counted few
Grim
The dark wolf dreams

Terrible his waking hours
Thus the grey wolves grieve
Any heart with secrets dark
Had better rise and leave
Briefly
The dark wolf dreams

So do not be deceived
By the mumbling and the snoring
Born of rage and constriction
Of rending and of roaring
And of waking
The dark wolf dreams

---

Where the Grey Wolves Grieve

By Scott Bailey © 2014

On a barren plain
Where food and joy are sparse
The desolate packs wander
Watching slow time pass
Here
The grey wolves grieve

With rose stained eyes
Patrolling their border wide
Preserving what is left
Of what they hold inside
It’s why
The grey wolves grieve

They gaze across the delta
To far off distant times
Where game and ease were plenty
Than in these austere climes
And so
The grey wolves grieve

Disgusted by the carnage
Where the red fox roams
On guard for rebel spirits
Keeping safe their homes
Where
The grey wolves grieve

Yet what they seek in earnest
Deep within their hearts
They know is far beyond them
Beyond their stilted arts
Endless
The grey wolves grieve

The packs struggle onwards
Huddled in their gloom
Their hearts so full of anguish
For hope, there is no room
In this land
Where the grey wolves grieve

---

Where the Red Fox Roams

By Scott Bailey © 2014

The timid beasties scatter
With tiny racing hearts
The scent of blood approaches
The herd all ways it parts
For here
The red fox roams

The scent of fear it rises
And fans the fox’s fire
Into enslaving passion
To raise the killer higher
Thus
The red fox roams

Filled with hate and ire of
Where the white wolves dance
The dance the fox desires
Denied its golden chance
Everywhere
The red fox roams

The world has grown accustomed
To fear of tooth and claw
The world has grown so weary
Of lives lived short and raw
Still
The red fox roams

The timid beasties scatter
Will never make a stand
They’ll not accept the secret
To gain the upper hand
So proud
The red fox roams

No one knows the course
Where the fox’s road is heading
All they see is darkness
The cast of all the spreading
Death
Where the red fox roams

In response to my daily prompt Wolf

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