Age
masks the depth
and breadth of ability –
houses more than anticipated
room for expansion, however;
current state of disrepair –
walls buckling, wiring faulty,
and security systems failing –
compromises output.
Old
holds a certain charm,
character well-earned,
but it would be useful
to install a mechanism
for locking out the past –
perhaps the future too –
eliciting and validating
the fullness of present.
Mermaids have the best of life,
she’d tell anyone who’d listen –
castles deep on ocean’s floor,
and watery skies that glisten
I’d give up all my earthly wealth
for a lifetime of Poseidon’s riches –
swap my legs for fins, if I could be
a royal princess among the fishes.
Once upon a moonbeam
her simple wish took hold
climbed up to the milky way
and watched the stars unfold
She wants to be immortal,
Night whispered to the Moon,
to live a fairytale existence,
without suffering or gloom.
The Great Orb nodded in consent
and turned her face upon the asker –
granted her gills, tiara and jewels,
then encapsulated her in plaster.
(Lillian is hosting at dVerse tonight and asks us to start a poem with “Once upon a…”. Â I have to confess I had no luck starting that way, but I did put it in the middle. Â I’m also linking up with Willow Poetry’s challenge: What Do You See?
Photo courtesy of Hélène from Willow Poetry.)
Two babies, two cars, a mortgage, and depression I just couldn’t shake. Â What was wrong with me, I wondered. Â Was I missing something? Â Is there more to life, I’m not seeing? Â I prayed to the Heavens.
Six months, I dreamt of returning to my childhood home. Â Every time, I remarked the same changes: the blue wall-to-wall carpet was replaced with red in the living and dining rooms, and geometric patterns running up the stairs; and one wall in my sister’s old bedroom was bricked. Â Whereas we had a dog, the dream residents had a cat. Â Always, I would exit through the back door, where I would fall and jolt awake.
One day, driving past the place, I noted an Open House sign and went in. Â There was the red carpet, the designs on the stairs, and the bricked wall in my sister’s old room.
Shaken, I passed the cat in my haste to exit – out the front door.
Ask and be answered –
Source listened, and delivered –
a resounding “Yes!”
(Written for dVerse pub, hosted tonight by Merrill. Â The challenge is to write a haibun on the topic of transition. Â I am also linking this to my weekly challenge, where the prompt is veil. Â Although I did not use the term in this piece, I felt as if a veil had been lifted.)
Aim for the sublime –
defy mediocracy;
let passion hunger.
(For Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge: Â hunger/strike; and Ragtag Community’s sublime)
She, deadly beautiful,
innocent as Ophelia
He, toxic ash –
turmoil and fury
Together, love soared,
then, like a tempest
Twisted out of control,
sanity sliding, fate
so cruel, as to be
legendary, epic
Like any other teenage
Shakespearean love story.
(Written for the generous prompts of Manic Mondays 3 Way, deadly; Ragtag Community’s slide; Fandago’s, toxic; and Daily Addictions, soar. Image provided by Laura at All the Shoes I Wear.)
In my absence
dreams flourish,
friendships form,
enterprises thrive
In my absence
opponents clash,
decisions falter,
differences grow
All that was viable,
all that motivated,
all that defined…
Now vapours –
truths forgotten –
in my absence.
(Jilly is hosting is in the dVerse pub tonight where repetition is the challenge. Â I am combining this with Fandago’s Word of the Day, opponent, Â and Ragtag Community’s prompt, friend.)
Like fisherman throwing their lines,
she casts her spells…imagines
the universe as an ocean,
conceives of elementals, hungry
for bait, waiting to nibble at her intentions –
as if words hold sway –
thinks patience is her key,
believes that with just the right lure,
she can reel in destiny,
determine fate.
(This piece is inspired by the combined prompts of Willow Poetry’s What Do You See? and Twenty Four’s 50 word Thursday – image below.)
She flows,
unapologetic of her girth,
does not flinch
at barges scoring her surface,
nor paddle boats laden with curiosity.
Confident in her fluidity,
she bears the secrets of life –
the sludge of our humanity in her belly –
stirs the minds of merchants, and children,
tolerates those who gather at her banks.
The final word is hers; she knows
no boundaries can contain her wrath –
still waters rise and spill –
she is a dragon –
nature’s force,
and she is magnificent.
(Originally penned November, 2017. Edited here. Â Image is a watercolour view of from our RV site. Linked to V.J’s weekly challenge: Â river. )
Art, like a compass,
guides my soul – watercolour
inspiring life force.
(Written for Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge: Â art & compass. Â The image is a piece I recently started. Â It did not turn out so well, but I like the idea. Maybe I’ll start again. Also, I’m linking up to dVerse poetics, which tonight is all about journeys. Â Since I don’t leave the house very often, and when I do, my husband is driving, my journeys these days are more ethereal – into the realm of imagination.)
One Woman's Quest 