POETIC BLOOMINGS is a Phoenix Rising Poetry Guild site established in May 2011 to nurture and inspire the creative spirit.


This week, we use prompt superpowers to summon a quote from mike Maher.: “And sometimes I wear a cape.” Wouldn’t we all love to have a superhero cape in our closet, for use whenever we had the need? Where would your energy be funneled if you indeed wore a cape? Head for the nearest telephone booth, don your cape, and meet us here with your super poem.


Once in the super hero store,
I chose a cape and tights (size 4).
The clerk was rude
She did allude

To my being obese.

She asked how I will use
These powers that I choose
Said I, on cue,
“To squeeze in to
These tights.  And for world peace.”



Love weakens my knees,
and my head gets light,
those bullets won’t bounce
in a raucous knife fight,

My tights get torn
and I can’t seem to fly
when the love bug strikes
I’m just a regular guy.

My x-ray eyes blur and
I just can’t see a thing
thanks to this
romantic fling.

I guess I’ll remain just a “paper” boy,
you’ve hit me with love…a dirty ploy!

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284 thoughts on ““AND SOMETIMES I WEAR A CAPE.” – PROMPT #49

  1. I love the both of these – a great laugh to start my day, thank you.

  2. Chuckling my way to sleep…

    If I had the power:
    a power to choose,
    I’d start out with opting
    for power to lose.

    But if that’s way to much
    I’d be pleased
    to be rid of the racket
    made by my knees

  3. Some limericks, serious and silly

    What skill would I don with my cloak?
    The will to stop wars at a stroke,
    to make them stop fighting
    by the power of my writing,
    convert conflict to love is my hope.


    What power would I wear with my cape?
    it might be the art of escape
    from imminent danger
    of menacing stranger,
    thus avoiding the dire fate of rape.


    Hooray for my beautiful cape –
    and its power to disguise ugly shape,
    dispense instant glamour
    in miraculous manner,
    transform with its elegant drape

  4. Henrietta Choplin on said:


    I have read the books
    the poems, prose; all the Lit.
    Now, I need to WRITE!

  5. Poetic Bloomings on said:

    Good morning ladies! Off to a great start!

    Marie Elena


    Oh, fairy-tale
    cape of many
    mantle of
    magical powers.
    Oh, rogue
    that I should
    charm you with
    my robe,
    shame you
    with my shawl,
    wrong you
    with my wrap.
    Oh, enchanted,
    embers of
    Christ-lit thread;
    in my cloak
    of many colors.
    Oh, humble
    may I be
    so that all
    who look upon
    may see,
    be captivated,
    by Your shining
    than by me.

    © H.G.@P.B. 4/1/12

  7. Henrietta Choplin on said:

    PB: I left two comments that did not post. Do you see them anywhere on your end? Hen

    • Poetic Bloomings on said:

      Hi Hen! Nothing is showing up in the spam filter, so I’m not certain what might have happened to your comments. I’m sorry you are having trouble. If anything pops up, we’ll be sure to post it for you.

  8. Cape-less Superhero

    Little girl falls,
    her weepy voice calls
    her cape-less superhero.

    Quickly he flies,
    to answer her cries-
    her cape-less superhero.

    When she was born
    his heart had been torn,
    could he be her superhero?

    Daddy’s the name
    but to this little dame
    the cape-less superhero.

    Laughter and tears,
    through all of her years,
    Daddy, her superhero.

  9. Pingback: ~REAL SUPERPOWERS~ « Metaphors and Smiles

  10. Okay, so here I go again…hope that is okay (to post again). If I could choose to be a superhero…here is what I would choose:

    With or without a cape
    the superhero role she chose
    was motherhood.

    To the son moaning scraped knee and loose tooth,
    Superpower healing is in mama’s kiss.

    To the daughter weeping first lost love,
    Superpower comfort is in mama’s hug.

    To the boy whose bullied and beaten at school,
    Superpower protection is in mama’s arms.

    To the girl rejected and made fun of by friends,
    Superpower encouragement is in mama’s embrace.

    To all of her children longing to be cherished and adored,
    Superpower acceptance is in mama’s love.

    To the little ones seeking to know so much more,
    Superpower wisdom mama gets from above.

    For all of the cape’s she’s worn through the years,
    her most super powers came (and were needed)
    when she chose motherhood.

  11. Jihad

    I am saving the world,
    one starfish at a time,
    and one flower, one tree, one human,
    each precious to its kind.
    I am saving the world,
    transforming it with love,
    with right action, too,
    not white magic from above.
    I am saving the world,
    but it’ll take a miracle, they say.
    Well, then, we’d best get started,
    can’t think of a better day

  12. Funny Hero

    If I could save the world a bit
    I’d dish out fun and lots of wit
    for in my mind, I wear a cape
    of laughs in varied size and shape.

    I think if leaders of earth’s sphere
    could learn to chortle (not Bronx cheer)
    it would provide a great escape
    with laughs in varied size and shape.

    Because we all should take a page
    from slapstick: that’s how to engage.
    Instead of hanging up the crepe
    use laughs in varied size and shape.

    But I’m no hero. That’s quite clear.
    No magic cape; no brave veneer.
    I only make the gentle jape
    with laughs in varied size and shape.


  13. Pingback: Super Powers « echoes from the silence

    (a shadorma)

    within you
    lies a super strength
    to face all
    life throws you;
    my Super Power would be:
    to help you see it

    P. Wanken

  15. connielpeters on said:

    If I Had a Super Cape

    Hey, if I had a super cape
    Like a bird, I’d be free
    I’d sail away to Mozambique
    And I’d be home by tea

    I’d stomp grand grapes in Sicily
    I’d see the Louvre in France
    I’d twirl with whirling dervishes
    And with “where’s Matt” I’d dance

    But with a cape I couldn’t go
    One moment back in time
    To dine with lords and ladies fair
    in castles on the Rhine

    Neither could I see future worlds
    Or meet strange aliens
    Or skip along with Dorothy
    And greet her three odd friends

    I couldn’t eat cheese with Heidi
    Meet Fagin and his crooks
    And so forget the super cape
    I’d rather have my books

  16. Kampfen Mit Ubermensch

    Had I not met her first
    it is quite certain
    that I would not have met you.

    The causality cannot be overcome.

    Yet this freshly woken love
    found slumbering in a vast interior
    has sinuated its way atop the primeval summit.

    When it breathes and eats
    and reveals its salacious fangs,
    some lesser ordinal of you is consumed.

    At six in the evening
    the beast is noosed and led
    back down to its familiar garden.

    She is waiting,
    as she always has—
    a tamer of dreams and souls.

    Oh, I’m not complaining.
    I understand the relationship
    between the principles,
    and in this I do quite well.

    Yet if I had not met her first
    is it absolutely certain
    that I would not have met you?

    And if you should fully fall victim
    to my genuine and impious desires

    and know more of me than
    just the cupid design of my mouth

    could the incessant chain
    of this reality be destroyed

    and could we still be such precious beings
    living like spineless fools
    beyond the vision of God?

    • claudsy on said:

      A hint of darker motives here. It sort of goes in line with my PA posting today.

      A Sigh of Sound

      Susurration slides past those unintended,
      Targeting sweet young ears with soft meaning,
      Teasing, taunting, telling of bliss to come.

      Whispers waft on a tongue’s breeze, seeking
      Vulnerable minds to influence with knowledge
      Untrue, compelling a change of heart with power.

      Soon his soft whispers would secure those within reach,
      Taking control where none was needed, rousing
      Testaments to his wisdom, while groveling for pats.

      Whispers waft on a tongue’s breeze, seeking
      Power from those without special gifts or
      An invisibility cloak to shield one’s presence from view.

    • claudsy on said:

      I like it!

    • Poetic Bloomings on said:

      Welcome to Poetic Bloomings, Richard! What a fantastic start you are off to! We hope to see more of your work. Be sure to check out our menu at the top of the page, as we offer far more than our weekly Sunday prompts.

    • Janet on said:

      I started off declaring a favorite, but there are many favorite blooms in this garden today! WOW!

    • Janet on said:

      Richard, I’ve read this a few times. Wonderful, wonderful. A fav, for sure!

      • Thank you, Janet. I’m sure you recognize this poem is based on Nietzsche’s concept of the super human who is firmly grounded in this world and the tension that is created with the spiritual being who lives in a world beyond this one. Truthfully though, this was really inspired by the first season of True Blood. Go figure. Thanks again, Janet.

    • Loved these lines…

      “Yet this freshly woken love
      found slumbering in a vast interior
      has sinuated its way atop the primeval summit.”
      Welcome, Richard

  17. The Powers That Be

    No cape.
    (She tripped on it once
    and that was the end of that.)

    She’s got
    the bionic ear
    and the six-million dollar arm
    and the super sight
    (with some villain-blasting lasers
    thrown in for good measure).

    She can run very very fast
    in slow motion
    (you have to make your own
    ch-ch-ch-ch sound, though.)

    She’s got all the gadgets.
    The bracelets and the lasso,
    and all of Batman’s finest
    (Mr. Wayne had an EverythingMustGo!
    garage sale after the Joker died.) Robin made
    off with the Batmobile, sans one wheel,
    but she was able to pick up the rest for a song.

    She hasn’t gotten angry lately,
    so who knows if anybody likes her or not.

    There is no kryptonite. She’s tried
    everything, but it seems she truly
    is invincible. So far.

    Mama always said
    to use her super powers for good
    but she’s still not really sure what
    that means, so she just sort of wanders
    the streets, waiting for a sign, or for Sweet
    Polly Purebred to call, or for the bad guys to
    actually be wearing black hats, or evil lab coats
    or for someone to make pithy, snide statements out
    from under an impossibly long handlebar mustache.

    So far, her spidey senses tell her
    that all is quiet on the western front.
    And she, in this ridiculous chartreuse suit
    with the ability to fly.

    Batteries not included.


    I’d like to fly .I’d like to soar.
    But some things matter even more.
    I want to be the one admired
    And recognized while finely attired.
    I’d love the glory and high acclaim:
    For everyone to know my name!

    A lottery winner! A superstar!
    A rapper in a fancy car.
    Someone known by a single name—
    Unlimited money and massive fame.
    Is that what makes a person great?
    I thought so, but my heart said, “Wait!”

    Is this what determines a person’s worth—
    A talent or accident of birth?
    No. Heroism is so much more.
    Its what is at a person’s core.
    No need for cape, money, or glory.
    A hero has a different story.

    The man who saved a person’s life,
    Or helped a friend through pain or strife,
    The mom who raised her kids alone;
    This is how true strength is shown.
    We are all heroes every day,
    Doing something great in some small way.

    My feet are now back on the ground.
    To be a hero, just look around.
    Just find someone who needs a hand,
    Or perhaps a friend to understand.
    There is so much that we can do,
    So let’s be heroes, me and you.

  19. Haiku’s on Superhero

    Bat, Spider, Super,
    You’ll always be a hero
    when you are a man.

    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

    With you in my arms
    I’ll fly at the speed of light
    and you will be safe.

    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

    I can see thru you
    and open locks with my mind
    while you are silent.

    by Michael Grove

  20. Lori P on said:

    Already There

    TV super powers seem so unimaginative to me
    Now that I’ve studied Biology
    They things we could do, you wouldn’t believe
    If we could control just the simplest things
    Our body already does

    If I could control my immune system, I never would get sick
    Or control my memory recall and never ever forget
    I’d know everything, could do anything without fear
    I’d even be able to choose when not to hear
    You talk to me

    And that’s not even touching those neurotransmitter things
    Which make you feel and think and grow
    Hunger and love, thirst and pain, lust and sleep
    If you could control that, what else would you need?
    Who would you even be?

  21. Walt, I love your smitten super hero. And Marie? I nearly spit coffee this morning, thanks to you. Hilarious. 🙂

  22. Cloak of Invisibility

    You cannot see me.
    A purple
    cape renders
    me invisible. I fly
    through the sky and spy.

  23. Superpowers

    Saving the world seems
    a rather lofty pursuit,
    tall buildings never really
    needed leaping anyway.
    And what exactly does the
    speeding bullet thing prove?

    While these may be worthy
    goals for the man in tights,
    if I were to be granted the cape
    and powers of my choosing,
    I would simply be the man
    that my children think me to be.

  24. Pingback: SuperMan | Awakened Words

  25. Pingback: Reflector Babe (Three prompts in one!) « Sharp Little Pencil


    If I could have one power
    it probably would be
    a magic mirror carried
    all over town with me.

    If someone shouted, “N*****!”
    I’d take it from my purse
    to hold it up before them
    and then they’d want to curse;

    for they would see a black face,
    they’d stare quite quizzically.
    And then I’d asked them plainly,
    “Do you see what I see?”

    Or bullies shoving gay kids
    into the garbage bin.
    My mirror’d show them how they’d look
    once they had been tossed in.

    The rich would see the homeless,
    the cheaters, a square dealer.
    Oh, with my mirror, I might have
    the powers of a healer.

    For even if they didn’t change,
    perhaps they’d take some time
    reflecting on their ways, o Lord!
    Would that not be sublime?

    © 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil


    It’s not that she’s sweeping the floor,
    it is that she’s doing it twice
    today and

    It is that she tells the world that she did it and
    doesn’t say your name though
    she knows
    the floor didn’t need
    at all.

    You’re the steady sweeper who
    sweeps this floor
    every day without

  28. ABaAabAB

    Those powers always come with drawbacks and little quirks:
    arch-enemies, your manias, your kryptonite. And life’s the same
    like with the best-laid plans…you know how that works?
    Powers always come with drawbacks and little quirks
    so what’s easy come, goes on to make us jerks.
    Just jerks in funny clothes, jerks with a talent for a game.
    Powers always come with drawbacks and little quirks,
    arch-enemies, your manias, your kryptonite– life’s the same.

  29. Haven’t written for 5 months—here goes nothing!

    …and sometimes I wear a mask
    I wear a long black trench coat
    and a smart black hat
    I look like a cold war spy
    the appearance can be confusing –
    my Jewish neighbours say
    I look like either the Gestapo
    or a tailor – both have their drawbacks:
    the lady across the street begs me to spare her kids
    and the guy two doors down wants me to run him up a waistcoat
    I think I look like George Smiley
    not a super hero with a cape
    a dark hero of silent dealings
    a man of shadows and mystique
    confident and suave
    I swagger about town
    I tip my hat to the ladies
    and brush a finger across the brow
    with a wink as a knowing hello to my pals…

    …sometimes I am filled with doubt
    and the hat and coat cannot hide me
    from the bright stares of the sun and those who know me well
    on these days I stay at home when I can
    but venturing onto the thoroughfare,
    sometimes I wear a mask
    fashioned into a smile


  30. Janet on said:

    Marie and Walt! Gosh, I love seeing what you come up with and your poems NEVER disappoint! For a sec, Walt I thought your last line was going to be ‘I guess I’ll remain a play-boy’ 😉

  31. Janet on said:

    ….and sometimes I wear a Cape

    I must not neglect
    To don this cape each day
    It helps me rise above
    Come whatever may

    Within this cape I sense
    A glorious super-power
    A genuine defense
    In life’s most troubled hour

    One day I rose without it
    Despair and fear loomed tall
    Then suddenly I heard it
    A Super-power call

    I felt Him wrap about me
    No ephemeral thing
    But, a cloth that’s kindred
    To the angel’s wing

    The unbelieving call it
    Fantasy on dead air
    The believer whispers humbly
    And simply calls it Prayer

  32. Lovely, Janet. We all need our capes, whatever or whomever it may be.

    • Janet on said:

      Daniel, 🙂 That would be an interesting debate for sure!

      Hen, Thank-you so much

      Linda, yes, capes do come in various shapes and sizes. thank-you~

  33. A Learner in a Cape

    On Sundays, I Reverie with Joseph Harker,
    It turns my brain to dust but try I must
    Keep challenging the old grey matter.
    On Tuesdays, I gather words with Margo,
    A test to see how far my brain can go
    before it perforates into breeze holes.
    On Wednesdays, I have my Aside with Robert,
    where I started, and where I’ve tried
    to post, if the website doesn’t choke and
    if it’s able. On Thursdays, I wash and iron,
    and clean the house, and on Fridays I bake
    a mean loaf of bread. On Saturdays,
    I’m smelling Blooms and whistling tunes
    that Walt subliminally strings on air.
    And now it’s April PAD, the month when
    I write whilst wearing a Wordworth mask
    and a big scarlet red cape with an L.

  34. Leaps and Bounds

    I feel invincible,
    tough as nails
    and ready to relieve
    Atlas of his burden –

    and while holding an invisible shield
    all sharp, edged words
    and demeaning smirks
    bounce right back,
    smacking the giver in the face –

    with a smirk of my own
    I continue conquering my day,
    relishing in my accomplishments
    until the day winds to a close
    and a weary cape crumbles at my feet
    leaving me vulnerable…
    until the next time.

  35. Cape Hope

    A towel draped across my shoulders
    tied in front and fear non-existant.
    A nose is not resistant to bleeding
    and needing a great running start
    to depart this earthly plain. No jolt
    to the brain when my landing gear fails,
    frail as they were, a broken fibula heals
    but steals from your legend.
    Neighbouring lassies in fancy dresses
    are less impressed with hard fallen heroes.
    They hold zero hope as husbands.

  36. slockard on said:

    Feeling Super

    Not feeling very super
    never fear
    wear a cape
    let down your hair
    zoom around your living room
    arms outstretched
    like when you were young.

    Just remember you can’t really fly
    if you jump off the balcony
    you’ll surely die.

  37. The Legend of Supermom

    I have a secret identity
    That I cannot escape,
    In reality I’m Supermom
    In a stain-resistant cape.

    Daily I bring order
    To our frenzied home-front scene.
    My lack of sleep means little,
    ‘Cause I’m powered by caffeine.

    I can leap large piles of laundry
    With just a single bound,
    And my skill at fighting dust bunnies
    Is certain to astound.

    Alarm clock, breakfast, out the door,
    We hustle off to school.
    Juggling errands and appointments,
    And I never lose my cool.

    Then it’s practice, lessons, dinner,
    And a giant homework stack.
    Dishes, bath time, PJ’s,
    And tomorrow’s lunch to pack.

    Armed with only humor
    And a quick imagination,
    What’s the best reward for Supermom?
    An extended solo vacation!

  38. In reality I’m Supermom
    In a stain-resistant cape.

    This is AWESOME, the whole thing!! So very, very true! Cheers and BIG smiles to you, Mary!!

    The reading of this is so smooth, by the way! 🙂

  39. John C. on said:

    They asked me: “how do you do it?”
    And I said: “Oh, it wasn’t so hard.
    “I just bent my knees and blew it
    “Reaching for the stars.

    Sometimes I never hear it coming,
    But when my dreams give the call,
    I always hit the pavement running
    And run into the nearest wall.

    I’m a secret super slip-up,
    Wouldn’t find more super if you searched.
    I like to keep it on, you know, the down-low,
    But sometimes I wear my cape to work.

  40. Hi folks,
    I don’t normally get into multiple commenting so I just wanted to say thanks to anyone who commented on my poem that I haven’t already acknowledged and that it’s good to be back.

    Also and more importantly have really enjoyed reading here…well done all!! 🙂



  41. I’m Not Superman

    I’m sorry I’m not Superman
    any more but if you would
    please pull the knife
    out of my back,
    I’d still take a bullet
    in the chest for you.

    By Michael Grove

  42. Pingback: Mrs. Clean Wipes the Slate « Sharp Little Pencil

  43. Only April 4 and I’m already getting snarky! Amy


    Woe to you, lobbyist and profiteer
    Avenue K will be set on its ear

    Begone, day traders sipping hot
    as your fingers scurry over the laptop keyboard,
    some letters and most numbers worn off,
    scars of fiscal battle

    Gird your loins, o members of Congress,
    for your days of feasting shall draw to a close
    as I focus my wrath on your graft

    Whosoever can be bought will be for naught
    Sweeping streets and slaving in call centers
    (for a living wage, of course)

    The payola shall be purged
    Elections no longer auctioned to the highest bidder
    (or Brother), nor Diebold election machines
    glean false numbers from pro-Machine hackers

    Even the Supremes will feel my ire for
    conspiring to convince us corporations possess
    ears, eyes, tongues… and souls

    For I, Mrs. Clean, now hold the power:
    Contained in the Golden Rule,
    affirmed by the Great Commandment of Love

    I am trusted by even the crustiest atheist
    (because I’ll drink coffee and shoot the shit
    with people of every belief or non-belief)

    Mrs. Clean will change the scene and proclaim
    the mighty truth: Democrats and Republicans
    stink of graft equally, and in good measure

    President Obama should bring our troops home NOW
    And when that is set right, the real work begins:

    Mitt Romney will wash windows at women’s clinics
    Newt Gingrich will scrub toilets in public restrooms

    Hillary Clinton will bake free cookies on 12-hour shifts without
    breaks, just like Chinese children work on her watch

    Ron Paul will oversee Area 51 but make no more money
    than the baristas at the low-cost local cafes

    Rush Limbaugh will be bombasting “Would you
    like fries with that?” in a little paper hat

    Michelle Bachmann will be sent back to middle school
    to learn history and how to recognize gay boyfriends

    And Sarah Palin? Field-dress THIS

    © 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

  44. I just can’t see myself as a hero…but I do know plenty. Hero #1 in my life is described below…


    She wears a cape of green—
    unseen, of course.
    Her power is delight in growing things.
    Marigolds, zinnias, daisies and random seeds she flings
    across a brown tilled bed
    of dark warm soil.
    The weeds all dread
    the burning stare
    of fire in her eyes that
    wilts villians found there
    invading Gardenopolis.
    And evil beetles
    tremble, die away
    in terror from her deadly spray.
    Ferns and pansies sigh relief,
    azaleas feel no grief
    for murdered pests.
    She keeps the growing citizens
    of her fair city safe,
    and nurtures root, and stem, and leaf
    in every suburb bed,
    as required by her belief.

    “Green things must grow,”
    the whisper of her faith says.
    she crouches,touches dirt,
    caresses blooms and petals
    finding hurts that she might tend.
    “Green things I mend,”
    she breathes,
    and smells the nectar sweet,
    the damp-earth vapor at her feet,
    and hears a songbird’s joy.
    “A garden of song
    to heaven I send.”
    She smiles, looks up,
    and wipes her hands
    in prayer
    upon her sweaty blouse.

    As she surveys the charges of her care,
    My sap is gently roused.
    I feel a budding smile begin to form,
    my leaves unfold, my tendrils curl,
    and the warm soil of my heart
    softens around the roots of love
    she’s tended there.
    I pray she will forever wear,
    for them, for me,
    that cape of green, unseen.


    In my wardrobe lined in order, I would keep
    A set of capes at the ready to match my magic
    Women’s intuition I have always had running deep

    My super-duper crazy heightened awareness cues
    Would be such that I would know when to grab the red cape
    And swirling it high like a matador fly to save you from the blues

    But should my antenna set to twitching for the purple woolly
    Then that would be my next task for sure and flying off with haste
    I would be on my way full speed ahead to thwart the next big bad bully

    Of course I’d have two all purpose things and perhaps
    they’d be all I’d need
    I’d pack the rainbow one most days and carry an invisibility
    cape too
    I’d love all of them the same but know to save the world
    it’s necessary to heed

    The call to right the wrongs of the disenfranchised and
    the innocents crying in the dark
    For some are granted riches and capes galore
    but with capes comes awesomeness
    So sound the trumpets, find a phone-booth or some place
    where my normal self I’ll park

    Then watch out bad guys, the be-caped crusader’s on a tear
    and ’til you’re down she won’t rest
    Like a thief in the night she’ll steal your strength, your every mean-ness and turn you into someone good
    Before you know it, she’ll change your mind, your team, and
    reshape you into one who does what’s best …



    • Henrietta Choplin on said:

      OMG, Sharon!!! Fantastic Heroine you are!!! I (suffer, at times) own a piece of that heightened awareness!!! So glad to know that I am not alone!!! Love this poem!!! Hen

  46. I envisioned writing poetry and pages of my book while on the beach or bay. The trip is winding down real soon and I just got to writing today! (guess that’s a poem, too!). Hope to read all the wonderful posts once I return home…for now enjoying time away with the family!

    I Want to be Your Hero

    Sometimes I think I need a cape
    to prove to you I’m strong.
    But then you come to me for help,
    I guess you’ve known it all along!

  47. Revealing

    Cutting words
    are glassy cold,
    but cocooned behind
    a cape of mirrors
    hatred’s image
    flies quickly back.

    Only after
    all guards are down
    will evil be allowed
    to hit its mark.

    Then the thrower
    can hear their cries
    and shatter
    the darkness
    with a guilty sliver
    of hope.

  48. There are so many super-heroes here (and great poems to match) – not doing individual comments; can’t keep up this week, sorry – just wanted to say, bravo to all you caped crusaders!

  49. Pingback: Good Friday Freeforall « Margo Roby: Wordgathering

  50. mantle

    I’d be strong,
    I’d save people,

    But there would be times
    when I’d fly just to be alone

    My cape flapping gently
    in the stratosphere

    Above the clouds
    above the noise

    Quiet and stillness
    just for me

    So I could go back
    and continue to be strong

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