The Face of my Father

I have
a staircase nose
and long
with a gypsy hook.

My eyes
gold flecked emerald
are rimmed
with inky lashes
that brushed my swim goggles
like crushed
spider legs.

The creases
at the corners
of my lips and eyes
are serious
with the knife
of a life
spent pondering
and perfecting
instead of laughing.


I used three prompts when I wrote this poem.  First up (from oldest prompt to most recent), I used Poetry Mixtape 21 prompt of K.I.S.S.  The goal was to write a three sentence (not lines) poem where the title has significance.  The second prompt is from WWP #108: Write a poem about your face.  The last prompt is Margo’s prompt to use images and to use line breaks as punctuation.



I remember her
in the kitchen;
scarlet print dress
white eyelet apron
her waist.

Pear shaped;
in stature
and temper
a mean drunk
or a
sainted martyr.

Dark onyx eyes
changing moods:
warm mocha,
flaming fire flash,
gypsy barter glance,
glitter dance;
rarely at

I wrote this from Donna’s Heritage prompt where she asks us to write about a grandparent.  Instead of exploring her heritage, I ended up painting her portrait instead.  Funny how poems have a mind of their own sometimes.