Category: art

Playful

Life shifts
I compartmentalize

Delusion
out the door

This path –
suffering –
not mine alone

Limitations
have merit

Minimizing
all the rage –

Less expectation
more distraction

Creativity invites
new vision

A playful life
essential!

(For Eugi’s Weekly prompt: playful. Art my own.)

Dreaming Archetypal

She rises from the river –
a culmination of my prayers
and tears, I suppose

Eyes glow with a ungodly hunger
Is she predator or night prowler
I wonder, frozen from fright

Disinterested in ego, ignoring
perfection, she multiplies
her energy frenetic

I try to harness her,
tame the primal, raw force
fear I cannot house her

But she is no one’s property
moves with fluidity, a shapeshifter
mythical in her stride

Like Eve, she is original sin
searching for deeper meaning
beyond this man-made paradise.


(Image and poem originated in a dream. Not sure I did the message justice but it begged delivery.)

Confessions To A Dreamcatcher

Rebellion rages in my veins, Dreamcatcher,
so tightly wound I have blocked hope
I want to be good – a good girl –
like that man of God says
but his preaching ways violate
prophecies a cover for sin
and I am so sullied that I fear
love will distain me.

How did I get here, Dreamcatcher
childhood a lost notion –
I try to minister to the past,
but Father’s sermonizing possesses
even in death, his will a barricade
I need guidance to help me emerge

I’m an unreliable navigator, Dreamcatcher,
oppression’s familiar, no high able to release me
suspicion of promises nauseates
I’m tired of facades – good girl facades –
locked in this nightmare
won’t you please help me out?

(For Eugi’s Weekly prompt: dreamcatcher. Art my own)


Vacating

Spirit disregards containment
should I appear disconnected –
focus lacking substance –
it is just essence flowing

I am whisper on wind’s lips
veil of clouds on tropical shores
sun’s aureole fleeting

I’ll return soon enough…

(Written for Reena’s Xploration challenge: flow
and inspired by the artwork featured on …Bilocalalia… blog.
My image is displayed here)

The Moment Time Slipped

That was me
the 9-year-old girl
sitting on the 3 o’clock bus
staring at the woman
with the scarf around her neck
standing across the street
in front of an oddly shaped building
I’d never noticed before, and
having a profound feeling
of déjà vu.

That was me
the scarf-wearing woman
standing on the sidewalk
in front of the odd shaped building
waiting for the 3 o’clock bus
to move, so that I might cross
suddenly overcome by a sense
of premonition as my eyes
locked with a girl on the bus
who looked uncannily
like a younger version
of me.

(Written for Reena’s Xploration challenge: Components of Time. Art my own)