It had been a while,
she was not sure
she was ready
for him,
for them,
that place,
the pleasantries,
multiple faced frauds,
egos with highballs,
highbrows, low morals.

She snubbed out her cigarette,
turned from the window,
strode purposefully to the door.
She might not be ready for them,
but she was quite certain they
were in no way prepared for her.


Filed under Poetry, Poetry - Prompts

14 responses to “Ready

  1. Written for The Mag Photo prompt.
    Artwork by jack Vettriano

  2. “egos with highballs,
    highbrows, low morals.”

    Oh yes! I’ve seen those!
    Love the ending too…

  3. I really dug this groovy poem, but the ending is what brought it all home for me- what an attitude- luv it! Peace.

  4. Totally awesome. 🙂 I love the shaping, like an hourglass, vase, candleholder combination. Perhaps with a little dash of lava lamp poured in.

    She looks exactly like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman to me. I wrote this whole stupid poem about it, but it was too silly to post. 🙂

    This poem makes me think of a recently divorced couple. But perhaps they have children together, so they have to continue seeing each other in family settings from time to time.

  5. leahJlynn

    I love the go get them attitude of the women in this poem. sh esounds like and actress before going on stage.

  6. Tess Kincaid

    I want to know what happens next…

  7. Laurie Kolp

    Love the ending.

  8. Linda Fraser

    I enjoyed the confidence of the poem and the ending. Thank you for sharing this inspiring poem, Mark. =D

  9. What a wonderful way you have with words.
    “egos with highballs,
    highbrows, low morals.”
    If I’d read this yesterday I would have to have included it in my Cento poem”

  10. Helen

    LOVE the attitude!!! Or should I have said ‘tude.’

  11. Loved loved the ending!

  12. Loved this:

    “egos with highballs,
    highbrows, low morals.”

    I like that she left.


  13. “egos with highballs,
    highbrows, low morals.”

    Love it!

  14. Karen S.

    This was perfect! Thanks.

Some of what I write is true, some is fiction; most is merely possibility.

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