Falling into fall

Fall on the farm doesn’t seem the same since Grandpa died.

No more mourning mama cows, missing their weaned calves.

No more old geldings leaning in the barn, tails swishing.

Fences fall in disrepair, no need to hold in or keep out.

The last of the oats are waiting for the combine,

this is the last year we grow in the soil.

Wind is what they grow here now.

Turbines humming,

growing energy

and not food

for a city.


Copyright 2o11, my take on the prompt for http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2011/10/friday-picture-prompt-autumn-in-october.html


Mirror, Mirror

Mirror, mirror on the wall.

Can’t you stop the bullshit?

Don’t reflect the things no one

but me can see, that’s just wrong.


She’s got it going on, look at her.

Natural beauty and grace.

She really is confident and wow

can you believe she did that?!


Rear view mirror, side view too.

Stop with the flash backs already.

I know I suck, and I know I failed.

Trying is what I do best, you know.


I count on her, he says, she is my rock.

Mama, wife, friend, mentor and pal.

He sings, “Smokin hot wife” along 

with his ipod and smiles a silly smile.


Smashed and broken mirror, pieces on the floor.

Take your seven years of bad luck

and apply the credit you owe to me.

I’ve got more on you than one mirror!


You have a lovely home, your food is great.

You are a super family, so cool.

Fences fixed, flowers weeded and

salsa in the freezer to share. Yum.


Old mirrors, backs peeling off,

those I like, imperfect in their

reflecting they seem to see a bit

more of me that is real, I like it.


We are what we are, thanks though.

It is sweet of you to say but really

it’s just the way we do things.

Nothing special, just us three.


Mirror, mirror take that!

Noseprints from the dog,

finger painted on with toothpaste.

No more false reflections.


I wonder if this is the real me.

I wonder if mirrors ever tell the truth.

I wonder if the poles will ever meet.

I wonder if there is another world there.

I love this life, even if it isn’t as it seems.

I live this life, even if the mirrors lie.


Copyright 2011 Shanyn Silinski

For emmett and dverse: http://dversepoets.com/2011/10/27/meeting-the-bar-critique-and-craft-conflation/


Waiting for spider webs

Winter stalks us, through the maze of fall colors.

Frosty mornings and bright fall leaves tell the tale.

Summer is gone and spring is only dream’d of distantly.


Flies seek shelter in the house, buzzing madly.

Birds eat seeds before venturing further south.

Northern lights sparkle and snap in the colder air.


Winter seeks us, through grey clouds and north winds.

Frost dabs the last of the flowers in an icy shroud.

Summer has fled from us, taking her long days with her.


Cattle and horses browse the last fall grasses, hay waits.

Little boys dream of snow forts, sledding and Christmas.

Mama’s wait for spider webs, the promise of Indian summer.


Winter pauses before us, as the sun shines bright and webs fly.

Frost flees quickly before a warm fall sun, a last snap of summer!

Summer left the spider webs and when they fly so will summer’s shadow.


Last warm days mean playing in fields and putting things away.

Fall suppers, brightly colored grasses and warm afternoons

Give us one last taste of summer before the chill winter comes home.


Winter wait for us, don’t come yet. I’m not done with fall’s warmth.

Frost, hold your chilly brushes and paint here not yet.

Summer, don’t flee yet. Leave with the spider webs when they fly.


Copyright 2011 Shanyn Silinski

For Gooseberry http://gooseberrygoespoetic.blogspot.com/2011/10/poetry-picnic-week-10-nature-forest.html

Black and White world

via Magpie Tales

It might as well be a black and white world.

Grey pavement with black tires rolling on.

Mirrored windows reflecting more mirrored windows.

Heads down, people walk, strut, pace, run and saunter by.

Cars belch exhaust, horns shout and noise fills the air.

Flashes of color in emergency, traffic and brake lights.

Store windows beg for you to stop, and the traffic pushes you on.

Blurs of cloud and peeks of blue sky remind you of a world beyond Gotham.

A place where trees grow in soil, not pots.

Where flowers race wildly along fences.

Where grass is mowed by horses and cattle.

Where barefeet are summer shoes and winter’s fires warm woolly toes.

A place with gravel roads and soft grassy shoulders.

Dancers can race across the meadow under an endless arching sky.

Where storms roll on and on before you feel them, and sunrise kisses the horizon.

The press of insects buzz so softly and the night sky needs no street lights.

You only brush shoulders with the horse at your side, and the dog leans lightly.

You may love your city, your streets and crowds.

I, for one, flee them and seek the open spaces like my ancestors did.

There is freedom here too, and it is sweet.

Copyright 2011 Shanyn Silinski

How Many Stand Silent


How many stand silent,

Watching as you quietly die?


How many stand silent,

Watching as you are abused?


One, a dozen, the whole world.

What if no one spoke for any of us?


Would you speak if the hand raised,

was raised against you and yours?


How many stand silent,

Knowing who deals death

Just beyond their door?


How many stand silent,

Knowing cruelty lives and thrives

Just beyond their door?


One, a dozen, the whole world.

What if no one looked at any of us?


Would you cry out or would you cower away,

if the cruelty was coming through your door?


How many stand silent,

Waiting for someone to speak?


How many stand silent,

Believing the lies, “I’ve changed”?


One, a dozen, the whole world.

What if we stopped believing them?


How many stand silent…

How many stand silent waiting for…

Just one person to say, “Stop! Enough!”?


How many stand silent…

How many stand silent waiting for…

Someone else to make the world change?


copyright Shanyn Silinski 2010

Posted for Real Toads today, social awareness and social issues. http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/