Happiness worship
an unmonitored highway –
numinous moments
catalyst for earthbound soul –
church impulses, breathe spirit.
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter. This poem is in the form of tanka. Image my own.)
Happiness worship
an unmonitored highway –
numinous moments
catalyst for earthbound soul –
church impulses, breathe spirit.
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter. This poem is in the form of tanka. Image my own.)
I have ventured
into your atmosphere
slipped my skin
your skin
and discovered
a universe
thoughts
emotions
beliefs
blending
into a physical dance
of light and shadow
nuances of colour
delineating life
At our core
we are light
leaning into mystery
cellular interpretations
of a symphony
we cannot hear
Compassion extended
mind altered
we meld.
(A free flow poem in response to Reena’s Exploration challenge: As Above . Click on link to view video. Image my own.)
Behind the veil
of political maelstrom
lies a modicum of humanity
Or, is it humanity is belied
behind a maelstrom of lies,
politics always falling short?
Summer of ’67
British invasion
Canada claiming 100 –
Dad arrives home
in a powder puff
blue convertible.
Back seat sisters
long hair flapping
bellowing along
with 8-track tunes:
Loving Spoonful
“Do you believe in magic?”
I, barely nine
idolizing a sister
sixteen – a model
with go-go boots
and hippie style
Cottaged at Sauble
muscle cars prowling
oiled bodies lounging
and all eyes lit
on sister, and I
wondering at the draw
made castles in the sand.
Surfing the waves
avoiding the baby
whose brash cries
and quick, chubby legs
keep Mom distracted,
I am observer of the life
Neil Diamond is promising:
“Girl, you’ll be a woman soon.”
Ah, to be 9, in summertime
few the cares, and ideas
like popcorn, burst and pop,
forgotten in each watery plunge
still content to be a child.
(A Convertible Summer first appeared here in June of 2018. I submit this edited version for Eugi’s Causerie Weekly challenge: summer. Image my own.)
We define our lives in acrostics
while nature audits the damage
We bemoan isolation
while Mother exhales
A sigh of hope –
all praying for reset.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter, @Vjknutson. Image my own.
How many years
slavery raping rights
before laws catch up?
How many years
fears and prejudices persist
until humanity catches up?
(For Reena’s Exploration Challenge:Juneteenth. Image mine.)
Hope’s a robot
marching along
endlessly sourced
Compassion is flame
ignited by love
kept burning by care
Fear annihilates
dampens the flame
darkens the path
Hope persists
follow her lead
keep compassion alive.
Cage me..
watch me grow…
my essence is strong,
my will fierce…
cannot confine
brilliance…
destiny
Challenges rub,
ruffle feathers,
discomfort short-lived,
we are meant to soar –
obstacles don’t define
response does.
(For Eugi’s Causerie Weekly Prompt: brilliance. Image my own.)
I weave words
with alacrity –
on a mission
Foreign forces
infiltrate brain
cells scrambling
Must write
till ability wanes
thoughts hang
Disconnected
brushed away
like cobwebs
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
Oh, the plans I make –
swept up in sudden quietude –
art, writing, books to read –
creativity leaps with excitement
And yet, there is a somber tone
ringing in my head – an anxious
whirring – reframing solitude
as social aberration…
And in this dance of light and dark
how shall I weave the threads
braid together a semblance of order
find a balance I can live with?
(Inspired by the prompting of Reena’s Exploration Challenge: quarantined thoughts. Image my own.)