Are you happy?
The question hits
my gut,
slingshots
down the hall
deadends
at optimism
Of course, I respond.
What else can I say…
Sure life needs tweaking…
I am learning to be better…
I can make this work…
Why? What do see?
Thoughts unspoken
but the bell has been rung…
(For Reena’s Exploration challenge: How far can optimism go? Image my own.)
He was night dark,
ruminated over death
and loss and injustice
Don McLean on repeat
I was sunshine yellow
joy of living
optimism on steroids
Dancing Queen
If opposites attract
then we were magnets
lured by the mystery
One Way or Another
When night meets day
colours explode
light breaks black
Shame, Shame, Shame
(For Eugi’s Causerie weekly prompt: when night meets day. Image mine)
Kingfisher, my horse
transports me to unseen realms
a fleshless dreamer
seeking oneness, Orenda,
a noetic salvation.
(Tuesday, I borrow from my Twitter account @Vjknutson. Image my own)
Forgive these ellipses…
mind sputters… lost
in woods… indulge
attempts of emergence…
seeking ambrosia…
within shadowy heights.
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
Consciousness commands
a shift of focus
tired of the clash of colours
stimulation overload
my muse is leaning towards
the nuance of black and white
A study of shadows
and shading
and how light
arouses the soul
Speak to me in subtleties
she whispers
in tones suggestive
of hidden depths
I am listening
And so I submerge myself
clear the palette of vibrant hues
and take up the lowly pencil
seek the promise
in a colourless world.
(For Reena’s Exploration challenge: a colourless world. Sketch my own.)
Of cubism,
I am ignorant
yet, I relate
To express
depths of perception
concurrent aspects
Of a multi –
imagined
universe
Or even
to embrace
the possibility
of oneness
in fractured
slices…
I pull apart the pieces
re-create the image
still cannot find the whole.
(Reena’s Exploration challenge this week is cubism, a subject I know nothing about, but it does seem to fit with this self-portrait I’ve been working on. Synchronicity in action.)
Poet’s mind fragile
images ripe, words lacking
waste of genius
shadows whisper of bathos –
a rewrite is imminent.
(Image mine)
The magic is not
in crossing paths
with celebrity
Gaining entry
into inner circles
deconstructing myths
Magic is the moment
when flattery does not sway
when recognition surpasses
the gloss of stargazing
embraces inner substance
evolves into self-acceptance.
(For Eugi’s Causerie Weekly prompt: magic. Art my own.)
Hold my words
up to your lens –
exchange snippets
distracted lives
hold no audience
I seek a way home.
(Reena’s Exploration challenge invites us to write a cryptic poem. Image my own.)
I’m a sapphire kind of gal –
crystal blue smouldering
sky-bright moody –
the whimsical imaginings
of a heart cast in stone.
(Image mine)
