When Scarsdale failed,
she resorted to corsets,
and girdles – trussed up
like a teabag –
sucked in her bits,
hair a touch too red,
nails forever chipping –
Dad’s disapproval a sour note –
watched as Mom steeped
in resentment, waited
for the boiling point.
(This quadrille is written for dVerse, hosted tonight by Mish, with the topic of steep. I am also linking up to Ragtag Community – note; and Fandango’s – resort.)
Eyes shut, she speaks to me,
limbs shivering in the cold,
rustles a forgotten melody.
Like a sapling, soul responds,
trembles with anticipation,
reaches for ancient blessing.
Moments like this,
possibility spreads out
like a vibrant valley –
limitations blurred –
A harmonic tapestry.
If eternity a breath,
I must smoke hard,
go fish a breeze.
Only son, the explorer,
always steel –
red, green are broken,
he puts those in cupcake.
(Thank you to Magnetic Poetry online for the words.)
Travel is the ask,
so many questions – answers
just fragments of truth.
(Written for Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge: Â answer / question.)
Winter defines this stage,
this page, night descending
too early for my taste.
If I catch a falling star,
can I shed the excess
layers of this confinement
Follow animal impulses
to a sunnier clime, restore
exuberance of noble youth?
Passion persists, intelligence
in tact, just need a brighter
angle from which to reveal it.
(Lillian is hosting dVerse poetics tonight with the prompt: shed. Â I am also linking up to Willow Poetry’s “What Do You See?” challenge: photo prompt; and Ragtag Community: angle; as well as Fandango’s: noble.)
Proficient at constructing frames,
I plaster over old mistakes,
convinced that survival equates
with marble – am I not a living
example of metamorphosis?
Yet, my doorways lack locks
and there are intruders in
the basement – confidence
dissipates as rage heightens –
optimism evanescent.
(Penned for the prompts of Ragtag Community – marble; Fandango – plaster; and Manic Mondays Three Way Prompt – evanescent.)
Water mimics sky,
withholds resplendence of blue,
dons a grey raincoat.
I search for sustenance
with indifference –
have difficulty navigating
the aisles of available options.
Divorced from former dreams,
I hunger for renewed inspiration,
encounter only loss and confusion.
Goddess advises, and I,
ear-closed irritated,
hear only assertions
of inadequacy.
I exit possibility,
have lost the vessel
that once propelled me.
(Linking up to Reena’s Exploration Challenge #70)
When their hot tongues lie,
I cry bitter milk –
time can rip at friendly water,
blow him from my sea,
though his shot a show –
am so blue,
a bare want,
in those lies dressed.
(Poem inspired by the offerings of Magnetic Poetry online.)
