Arrange the bones
in a triangle –
incant the words
three times three
Burn the evidence
erase your steps
Paddle off
into the mist –
You’ll be free…
(Must be getting in the spirt of Hallowe’en, or watching too many True Crime episodes, lol. Image my own.)
I remember Jasper
how we drove up
in that bolt bucket
drank grape soda
from the dime store
listening to Dylan
How the mountains
echoed our loneliness
the answers we sought
turning us inside out –
I dream of it still.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson
Art mine – an early attempt at watercolour)
Envisioning breakup –
past haunting possibility –
she navigates uncertainty
an angry dreamer
Tries to settle on truth
but with rage as filter
she processes and processes
reaching no solid ground
Love, she concludes,
is beyond availability
plans a solitary existence
until vulnerability caves again.
(for Eugi’s Weekly prompt: haunting, and Reena’s Xploration challenge: filter.
Image my own.)
She flows
unapologetic of her girth,
does not flinch
at barges scoring her surface
nor paddle boats laden with curiosity.
Confident in her fluidity,
she bears the secrets of life –
the sludge of humanity in her belly –
stirs the minds of merchants, and children,
tolerates those who gather at her banks.
The final word is hers – she knows –
no boundaries can contain her wrath
still waters rise and spill;
she is a dragon
Nature’s force,
and she is magnificent.
(‘Mississippi’ first appeared here in November, 2017.
Image my own. Not the Mississippi.)
Baiting her line with incantations
she casts her spell… imagines
an ocean of possibilities
ready to nibble at her bidding
As if words hold sway
and patience, power;
believes right intent is lure enough
to reel in destiny, determine fate.
(Rewrite of piece formerly entitled ‘Fishing’.
Image my own. Perhaps a silly goose?)
Trade you an ‘n’
for a ‘v’, I said
to the moon
to the sun
to the bird
at my window
All obliged
and now
my lonely day
is lovely,
lovely,
lovely.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson
Art my own.)
Service contentment
Be a vessel –
giving and receiving
Create ripples
Inspire
Be present
Push through limits
Be bliss spreading
viral joy
(I’ve started a new project: reading through old journals – mostly griping – to find new messages, new poetry.
This is my first result. Image my own.)
Words, like crickets
leap from my mind
chirping pests whose
trajectory eludes
dulled reflexes,
scuttling about
periphery of logic
Harmless, really,
in the singular –
cacophony of multitudes
threatening to multiply
take with them
semblance of sanity
Intuit a rhythm
I counsel self
to define the notes
in workable phrases
capture essence
and reason message
but the invaders
adverse to linearity
disappear beneath
the floorboards
of my conscious mind.
(Found this poem, languishing in my blog archives.
Edited, and with an updated title, thought it might
be worth a second look. Art my own.)
How to circumnavigate
unexpected glaciers?
I am unnerved
thoughts spiralling
chasing faults
Have I been remiss?
Replay the scene
rewrite the script
till comprehension dawns
What lies beneath
frozen surface
is self-inflicted sorrow:
covetous desire aching
(Image my own)
I like to wear garlic
when creating art –
keeps the demons
from taking part
Days I forget
perspective lost –
whirlwind of ink
quite deceptive
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson
Art my own)
One Woman's Quest 