Category: creativity

Proposal Response

Aging I am/ but not without wisdom,
and disabled / and in more ways, not –
unreliability / the state of my body
trending / creativity

Escape is proposed / from this hindering attitude
my oozing scars / soothed with tenderness
beg a stand/ that revitalizes
discover determination/ I am evolving

This slumbering/ now awakening
has become impulsive/ suggests renewal;
need discipline / new boundaries
to quiet the pain / still, I thrive

I am whiny / pay it no attention
self-mothering / not selfish
counselling bedrest/ a healthy balance
prone to coddling/ this budding creativity

need to shake off/ revitalize
this disoriented/ clearing
weakened state – / altered strength
escape is proposed / certain.

(This week’s challenge is a wild card.  The catch is to look back over recent postings and find the repetition, that becoming the prompt.  I noticed a repetition of ‘age’ and recognize a need to revisit my attitude towards this inevitability, so I decided to select an old poem which illustrates the issue and readdress it.  Left side of each line is the original poem: Proposal.  Italicized endings are the new response. Image from personal collection.)

 

The Siren’s Spell

Not for the weak of heart, this watery confinement –
with brine-coated tongues and surly dispositions, went
the submarine crew to their depths, braved the absence
of daylight, sold their souls to Poseidon’s entombment.

Some say it was the fumes, sulphurous as Hell’s own funk
that warped the minds of hardy men, robbed them of their spunk –
tales of lily-white maidens, whose melodic tunes wiled,
lured spirits from their nests, lifeless corpses in their bunk.

(This form, inspired by Willow Poetry’s What Do You See? challenge – the image provided – is a Rubayait, written for dVerse pub.)

Fluttering

Somewhere inside,
beneath the noise
of to do’s, or regrets,
buried so deep,
that I disbelieve
it exists, and yet…

there it is –
pulsating in sleep,
disrupting idle moments –
a hum, a breeze, a niggling,
as if I’ve trapped passion,
like a firefly, jarred it
in some inner cellar…

and still, it glows –
begs for the light of day,
a slit in consciousness
through which to escape –
inspiration demanding
expression.

Growing Wings

growing-wings1870518-prints

Even as we let go
of that which no longer serves
our hearts grow wings.

*****

I am venturing into new territory,
and have established a virtual store front with Society6:  KnutsonKreations.

I would love it if you’d check me out.  Society6 is offering an Artist Promotion through to Thursday, February 21 at midnight – 25% off and free shipping worldwide using the link above.

Creating “poetry-to-go” has been a dream of mine.  This is the beginning!

 

Blame It On the Moon

Lethargic, you say –
it is the moon’s withdrawal
that compels this wane –
the current that runs between
defying gravity, depleting –
no sense in fighting
such elemental flow –
total submission is key.

(Written for Reena’s Exploration Challenge: moon; Ragtag Community’s: key; and Fandango’s: lethargic.)

 

Stirred

Unheralded,
an apparition
in white –
wings enveloping,
uplifting

soul cries,
voiceless,
powerless –
no pause
on perfection

she follows coastlines
while I travel roads,
fades from view

her shadow lingers,
wraps me in melancholy

one minute of rapture –
enough to make me mourn.

(Inspired by the sudden appearance of an egret while shooting this image.  Submitted for Manic Mondays 3 Way Prompt:  roads, and Reena’s Exploration challenge:  one minute.)

Sexy Sailed

Born brilliant,
and good looking,
he had me dancing,
fevered –
red cat woman,
I am porcelain,
prisoner,
cup fishing,
long to explore
dark words –
do not ask though –
sexy sailed –
ate godless
byes.

(It’s Magnetic Poetry Friday.)