Discolored past

Photo by Sue Vincent

The rocks mark the ground
between prospering weeds enriched
by the warmth of a sun surging overhead,
encircling those of us interred
on a planet whose
percussive heartbeat rocks me to sleep.

I sense the presence of wildflowers,
of ants scurrying together in the dirt,
of life — too bountiful to count or name — 
thriving in the darkness or 
at least out of sight — 
I dare not note a difference in perspective.

Photos remain after we pass on
a gentle breeze that thoughtlessly turns
blacks to sepia, discoloring too many memories
otherwise cruelly lost
in darkness 
though the sun shines tomorrow.


Phillip Knight Scott | © 2020

My first poem of the new year! Submitted to dVerse Poets Pub Open Mic Night #257

Written for:


Where has Phillip been? WRITING

If you’ve been following my blog closely (and I assume you have been consumed with it for months now) then you probably noticed I dropped off the face of the Earth in the last few weeks.

Good news! I’m back! And I have news!

I just this week completed the first draft of my first novel, tentatively called That Time the World Almost Melted: An Earth-based space comedy. If you hate that title, well there’s plenty more to hate beyond that. And that’s where you come in: I need volunteers to help me out by beta reading this tome before I even think about publishing it.

What are you getting into?

  • As the subtitle implies, it’s a sci-fi comedy. The main characters are human, but aliens pop up and adventure ensues. (Silly, pointless adventure.)
  • It’s a relatively short novel (53,000 words, a bit longer than “novella”)
  • I’ll provide a questionnaire in addition to the manuscript so you can give me your full, unvarnished opinions.

What’s in it for you?

  • You will be thanked in the acknowledgments of my book
  • You will get a copy of the book
  • You will be remembered fondly by me and probably my mother
  • You will have the life-long pride of having helped shaped one of the seminal novels of the 21st century (assuming you help me and also do this for Ta-Nehisi Coates)

Book description

Jake Whitman wasn’t having a great day. Work was stressful, his girlfriend just broke up with him, and the local brewery was really stretching with its latest punny beer names. No matter how bad, he was not expecting to find an alien in the back seat of his car. Now he’s on the road with federal agents, news media, and who knows what else chasing him. The very fate of the world could be on his shoulders … or at the very least tough dinner decisions.


Drop me a line if you want to volunteer!

phillipkscott [at] gmail [dot] com


The year in light

The twilight of another year sparkles
with flashes — burning brilliance —
so I cannot leave them behind
as we place one foot into the future.

I pause now, lingering
on the twinkling moments, 
savoring the sweet stamped imprints
while my month waters 
in anticipation of more to come.

Even the sad, the hurt,
the bulbs I’d replace if I could —
I’ll take them with me. Sometimes 
any light is a reminder 
that life glimmers between bursts
of radiant light
whether we’re looking or not.


Phillip Knight Scott | © 2019

Written for Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Year’s End



Chill

Photo by Sue Vincent

As I leap into middle age 
                    (knuckles white)
I wonder if the greatest adventure 
is merely to breathe 
                    (snow meets altruistic land)

In a world spinning its wheels, 
                    (frigid morning scrubs icy)
the eager sound can’t whine for change,
stale taste of winter
                    (skin burning with the chill)

The calendar will jump to Spring
                    (teeth rattle loose)
anticipation blooming every dewy night
I snore away
                    (gray hair wind-blown)


Phillip Knight Scott | © 2019

Written for Sue Vincent’s Thursday photo prompt: Chill #writephoto as well as Free Verse Revolution’s December Writing Prompt #2: to breathe.

Submitted for the dVerse Poetics Pub Thursday OpenLinkNight #256.


Who will?

Who will hear our prayer,
echoing through the empty air
that divides us, an appeal
to something unseen and unseeable,
our invocation lost among nothing?

Who will hear our psalm,
the choir humbly beseeched 
by a chorus reverberating with thanks
in its every deliverance before
the entreating congregation?

Who will answer our pleas,
voices searching for seraphic blessing 
while some celestial body
of spiritual vitality circles —
words bouncing in the void?


Phillip Knight Scott |© 2019

Written for dVerse Poetics : “echo … echo … echo”


Colors can be different

Colors are not frozen, shyly hiding
in the shadows while hinting at 
a deeper shade. Colors can be different
colors, attacking us with their brilliance
or assaulting us through blue dreams
that search for softer complexion,
a complexity of consciousness. 

Color may dance in musical hues
of pixelated pigment only I can hear,
telling stories too bold for black and white.
A brutal world craves absolutes, leaving us
to unearth our own meaning where we may.
A colorless tale has no heart. Let it go.
We will find warmth in tinctured breaths.


Phillip Knight Scott | © 2019

Written for several prompts!


Sunday Best: time will tell

I really enjoyed this week’s prompt and was proud how it turned out 🙂 Thanks so much, Kristiana!!

FREE VERSE REVOLUTION

Dear reader,

Welcome to December on Free Verse Revolution! This month’s theme is Endings and there are still 8 spots available for contributing writers. If you would like to submit, see the guidelines here.

This week began the month with a variety of responses to the theme:

Tuesday – David Dephy

Wednesday – Devon Brock

Thursday – Kristiana Reed

Friday – Eric Daniel Clarke

Saturday – HLR


The first prompt of the month was ‘time will tell’ and here are the top three responses:

My memory (to come) – Phillip Knight Scott

Time will tell #tanka – Judeitakali

Forty Years Ago – M.A. Morris


I look forward to your submissions!

Happy writing!

Kristiana

x

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My memory (to come)

My murky memory extrapolates the smoke, 
pixelated recollections somewhere in the cache 
that clears itself (a grasp slackens)
as I hasten to replace lost echoes 
with reminiscences to come,
not forgotten among the ash,
rising breathless if we dare stretch.

The future — always fuzzy like sleep 
that won’t rub out of our eyes — changes 
every time we look at it, as we push forward 
carrying the momentum of those better angels 
urging us to grow our own wings 
and launch ourselves to join those 
refusing to leave progress to others. 

Time will tell what tales we create, 
proceeding weightless where we dare.


Phillip Knight Scott | © 2019

Written for Go Dog Go Cafe’s Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge (leaving) and Free Verse Revolution’s December Writing Prompt #1 (time will tell) and dVerse Poetics “Less is more, more or less