Solitude (3)

Solitude.
I dream of
panoramic
silence –
breathtaking
boundless
sanctity.

Solitude.
Wrapped in separateness
cardboard walls fallen
curling corners of instability –
no refuge in stillness.

Solitude.
Smothering starkness
madness reverberating
canyons of aloneness
overbearing.

Solitude.
Persevere
regale moments
feathered encounters
faces on screens
tenderness
in voices.

Solitude.
Grace finds me
mercy lifts soul
possibility
opens the door
panoramic.

(This is a rewrite of an older poem, last appearing here in August, 2018. I submit it for Reena’s Exploration challenge #163. Please visit her post for a most inspiring video. Art my own.)

Talking To Myself

Tripping over guilt
how I need to make amends

Meanwhile, charity
leaves me vulnerable

Lose credibility,
momentum

No longer a pick up for others
ditched without a lifeline

***

These are but feelings
I’m more comfy couch
than utility vehicle
and credibility –
well that’s earned

Pick myself up
wade through vulnerability
grateful for giving hands
some amends best left
to the lessons gained
guilt not worth the trouble.

(Much of my poetry is derived from dreamwork. Dreams use exaggeration and humour to evoke understanding. In this poem, I am able to see both at play, leading me to the more empowering response. Thanks for reading. Image my own.)

Stop the Words

These thought processes…
I am inside out, shredded…
on so many levels
out of sync…
hear my own words
nothing but hot air
making me so dizzy
that I’m becoming afraid
of heights….
phobic, actually

Breathe,
I remember somewhere
between gulps of helium
and the hammering
in my head…
breathe…

Platitudes have no place
in this moment
in the inside out
emotionally raw now

So, I’ll quit the words
breathe until I find ground
again….
then repeat.

(Inspired by the prompt of Reena’s Exploration challenge which can found here. Image my own.)

No Idea!

Girls are lucky: just need to find the right man –
looked after for life.
Advice from a teenaged brother.

Right! I yell back, fifty years later.
It was all a vacation –
raising the children on my own
looking for God in the midst of chaos
partners with wandering eyes
or absent…always absent…
still waiting for that “looking after”

And how did you make out, Brother Dear?
Oh, that’s right… married
… woman with a good job
willing to let you putter in the background

Guess we were both misled.

(Image my own.)





Light of Day

Failures, like eel grass
lurk in slumber’s waters
entangle me in regret

I’m drowning in should’s
and what if’s, until gasping
I awake with a start

The light of consciousness
releases me from emotional bog
illuminates the rational

I am restored, set upon the shores
of revelation, ready to step
forward with forgiveness.

(For Reena’s Exploration Challenge: light. Image my own.)