VJ – Page 113 – One Woman's Quest

Meme

Web-sexy this world –
information my empire,
a starry squadron,
file phaser system –
want off though,
could, without asking

(I visit the online Magnetic Poetry on Fridays.)

Grey

Lured by azure waters,
the promise of carefree days,
I cruise ocean’s waters,
dream myself exotic.

Grey clouds loom, mock
this pretence – waves swell
crash, blacken horizon –
delusion loosing ground.

What force is this,
drags me into aphotic depths,
insists I swim in darkness?

Have I not proven tenacity,
claimed a place amongst the willing?

It is not light, I seek – too sinful
for redemption – just the solace
of familiar grey….

Spark

Body falters,
mind the same,
but spirit dances,
lithe as a flame.

Stench

Dank, this current state,
mildew and rotten fruit,
the stench of redundancy –
crave the petrichor of hope,
the aroma of fresh soil
singing praises of rebirth.

Truth and Contrasts

Dark this passage,
blustery the winds
that rattle the glass,
cold seeping through cracks,
light receding.

Life, we are sold,
should be parties
and castles – dreams
without limits –
disingenuous campaign

Truth lies somewhere
in-between –
elusive, yet enticing –
I would exit this isolation
shake the starkness
for but a glimpse.

(Images supplied by Reena’s Exploration challenge. Also inspired by Ragtag Community’s prompt: blustery, and Fandango’s: disingenuous.)

The Toll

Am not the woman my children once called Mother –
can see the disappointment in their anger-blotched
expressions, feel the constraint in their voices –

distance between us tugs on my heart, plays with
my conscience, as if illness is choice – a contrived
plot to rob them of their expectations –

hope they can forgive me before it’s too late;
hope they can forgive themselves.

Duelling Personas

Outward facing –
contrived effort –
composure checked,
face appropriately presented.

I turn away –
internal chaos clouding –
lacking resources
for social banter

Wolves taunt me –
predatory monsters
shaming me into retreat –
defences down.

Wade back into superficial,
desperation seeking solace –
hide the flooding within.

Family Nonsense

I bleed champagne poetry,
am softer than brother bug –
almost corduroy –
born to father, dark,
to glass women,
we surround them,
bring liquid fevers, haunt
bluegrass rhythm growler.

How would you fool eternity?

(Such are the offerings of Magnetic Poetry online.)

Re-
dun-
dant,
these
rituals
by which
I define myself –
find purpose, validate
my being – I create herculean
tasks, ignore God’s role, the cycles
of nature; script myself responsibility –
a dramatic starring role with no applause,
and in the end, when light has given over to dark
and this body has failed me, will objectivity set me free
or shall I return to do it all again…a hypnotic spiral dance?

(Inspired by Willow Poetry’s Challenge: What Do You See? Featured image is the prompt.)

Lost Directions

Partnered once, with compassion –
believed in power of human touch,
dedicated self to caring, certain
I’d found my body of work

Time and circumstance intervened;
I drifted, lost in an eddy of confusion,
marital fray ending in separation –

Life moves in circular cycles, and
I revisit that work now, wonder if
parts are salvageable, viable –

fragments outdated, irrelevant –
compassion still holds merit,
what if I let it drive, put ego
in the passenger seat –

would she steer us down one-way
streets, against the flow to traffic,
rattle elusive confidence –

without trust in process, I lack
assurance of youth’s glory –
would not survive the scramble

Circular lines bypass, spiral;
we are not meant to go back;
must breathe and stop grasping.

(Lost Directions first appeared here in October 2017. I have edited it and resubmit for my weekly challenge: compassion.)

Author: VJ