As night falls, the sun
serenades my soul –
beauty wraps my heart
in somnolent ecstacy
paints my mood
with shades of love
Reality out of focus
imagination floats, full sail
into a dreamy mist
delightful course
a symphony of hues
coaxing welcome slumber.
(Image my own)
Is survival resilience?
Those who crawl
from the trenches,
elbow-deep in mire,
trust not the leniency
of asphalt nor concrete
Resilience dons bravado
picks itself up, dusts off
the ashes, and wheels on –
tires squealing in the face
of those mud-laden.
(Image my own)
(Warning: foul language)
Rallies, hired guards,
warnings of revolution
and God knows what
Ambition is a cruel cage
Freak offs, and hitmen,
made-up masculinity
unintelligible banter
Power wields cold chains
Misogyny is not a win
archaic ideations –
not the mark of divinity-
Free the barbed emotions
of Patriarchal walls
unstable…and now…
exposed
Despair is paralysis
a surrender to the lies
Shooter drills no solution
It’s fear that motivates
and righteousness that binds
and in the white noise
of rising awareness
The perpetrators
calmly walk away
Exit strategy preplanned
While we pray
that karma is a bitch
and limp back
to our wasted lives.
(Art my own)
Strawberries ripen, their scarlet-red sweetness staining the cheeks of students whose bodies, unripened, rail against the conformity of stiff backed chairs and bolted down desks. Spring has dared to don the cloak of summer – green emboldened fields trampling over delicate beginnings; and we are splash pad, motorcycle revving, boom box crazy, ready to plunge into the swelter, restless.
Strawberries ripen
Spring’s sweet offerings foretell –
Summer games begin.
(Image my own)
We are not islands
isolated
insulated
to be ignored
We are hearts engaged
in a relational dance:
intertwining stories
weaving new tales
Yearning for love’s reciprocity
Delighting in wonder of discovery
Slugging through painful demise
Striving to be better
We build walls
construct towers
follow paths leading nowhere –
the pitfalls of our quest
Artificial barriers
lofty ideals
dead ends…
and still we push on
Dreaming of hands that hold
and gentle waters
soothing and war
passionate kisses
Love’s rewards
We exist
not for accumulation
but for the gifts that arise
when open hearts dance.
(Image my own)
To lounge
perched oblivious
nature vs domesticity
decision in limbo
I call upon the rains
pray for cleansing
this too-worn skin
eager to shed
I welcome the Divine
sweet messages
of birdsong
serenading
It’s fear that draws me
away from Nature’s charm
a creeping compulsion
that I don’t belong
I am hungry
swallow my prayers whole
wallow in the acidic burn
of betrayal’s ashes
I am greedy in my misery
will stuff myself
with expectation
and forgo pleasure
What am I but baggage?
A burden
locked in my shame
A side show
whose lethargy renders me
incompetent
Illness is a thief
have lost what is sacred
choking on the feathers
of the song that once fed me.
Passion the cloth
that contains me
Time a transformer
if only I surrender
I’ll grow a new skin
confident and fearsome
am I not afterall
reptilian born?
(Art my own)
The waters of my soul
are still this night
the harshness of day’s light
easing now
into quiet solitude.
I surrender to renewal
knowing that no matter
what tomorrow brings
I have peace within
to guide me.
(Image my own)
(Warning: Poem makes reference to child abuse)
She taught me how to stay out of sight
the women who worked the candy counter
Dragged my fourteen-year-legs in beside her
as management brushed past, oblivious
Stick to the aisles and passageways, she said
Make sure you are always busy.
She couldn’t say the words that burned on her tongue:
He’ll follow you into darkened corners of the warehouse
He’ll lock the doors and tell you it’s all your fault
No one talked about what this man did,
five floors beneath the department store opulence
While people shopped, and ate, and bought
The wheels of consumerism, well-oiled
stuffing our consciousness with lies and deceit
the vulnerable confined to shadows and margins
But some of us will never forget
Innocent fragments haunting locked corners
Ensuing rage still railing against the injustice
That puts a pedophile in charge.
(Image my own)
(A haiku for Spring)
Subtlety unknown,
Spring’s repertoire bold and bright –
soul responds in kind.
(Image my own)
Nestled in with childhood truths –
secondhand
perspective missing
Nursing a creeping creativity –
insignificant lucidity expanding
measurably hurried
Once social, now retreating
papered over failure
have fallen
frigid waves infiltrating
chronically pained
over and over
contemplating flight
freedom
Voiceless
expressionless
flat
even revelation muted
unmoving
protective boundaries
discussed
now crumbling
underestimated the struggle
the pervasiveness
Consider a militant approach
strident restrictions
nullifying passions
but I am a weaver
open to uncovering
blessings in failure,
compensated by soaring –
grounded yet questing
unsettled
disease is not a repellent for the mind
conjures movement in the sedentary
creatures born of defensiveness
I am motivated to find renewal
dank, moist, lacking flame
in this explosive personal nest.
(Written during my bedbound days, 2017. Edited for this edition. Image my own)
One Woman's Quest 