Category: creativity

Slippery

Slippery performed
and my eight-year-old
heart applauded

cheered when he escaped,
mourned the capture,
prayed for flight’s courage

but survival skills
eluded – was certain
I would starve, die

in a cave where
animals would gnaw
on my bones, and

family, unconcerned,
would sigh and say:
She’s just being Slippery.

(Slippery was the name of a sea lion who performed at a local’s children’s attraction in the 60’s.  He escaped into the Thames River and was captured again.  I can remember being torn between sorrow for him that he didn’t want to be there, and sorrow for us that he didn’t love us the way loved him.

It’s Open Link Night at dVerse, and I am also submitting this for 50 Word Thursday, Fandango’s: guess, and Ragtag Community’s prompt: slippery.)

Tapestry

Laid out, in a tapestry,
I suppose the overriding
message would be inconsistency –

a montage of seemingly unrelated
images, the blatant disconnection
offending to the eye, and yet…

closer inspection might reveal
a thread of commonality –
the presence of orange,
in its many incarnations,
woven into each tableau…

a hint of the woman whose
wanderlust has driven her
in so many directions

a passion, that like the sun
cannot contain its rays –
a willingness to embrace
the unknown, acceptant of
endings and beginnings.

I regard myself as inquisitor,
charged with assessing motivations
of crimes, turning over choices,
looking under rocks for disclosure
of weaknesses and fallacies,
questioning the what ifs and whys,
as if life could be rewritten –

the interrogator has no appreciation
for colour, does not allow credit
for tinges of orange, judges only
in terms of black and white…

lacks the empathy to behold wonder
in a life, that despite its incoherence,
depicts a tapestry of survival:

a testimony to the art
of a creative soul’s passage.

(Written originally as way of self-introduction for my writing circle, submitted here in response to Willow Poetry’s challenge:  What do you See?)

Photo courtesy of Willow Poetry.

Freak Show’s in Town

Come one! Come all!
Step right up folks!
See the amazing,
one-of-a-kind,
baby-juggling
woman!

Come see this matron
turned tigress!
Witness how the weaker sex
transforms into a powerhouse
of resourcefulness –
a magnificent multi-tasker!
You will not believe your eyes!

These are no ordinary
babies, Ladies and Gentleman!
See the menacing three-year-old
who looks like an angel but
has the mind of a devil!
Look upon the smallest child –
only months old, but with lungs
that will shatter glass.
Be awed by the gigantic
boy baby, youngest of them all,
whose appetite is insatiable.

Step right up folks!
Watch as this extra-
ordinary woman
breast-feeds two babies
and prepares supplemental formula
all whilst reading to the third!

Behold how she balances
two baby carriers
while strapping
a toddler into
her car seat!

Marvel over how
she shops for groceries –
a impossible feat!
Ladies and Gentlemen!
Tremble as she manoeuvres
her two-carted entourage
through people-ridden aisles,
list firmly gripped between
her teeth, while emitting
a constant stream of baby talk,
keeping the trying toddler
on a verbal leash.

Sigh with relief
as silence settles
over the household
and our heroine falls
into a deep, exhausted sleep.
Be terrified as she awakens
with a start, suddenly realizing
she has abandoned her boy-child,
in her vehicle, overnight!

You will be amazed!
You will be inspired!
You will be horrified!

Step right up,
Ladies and Gentleman!
This is a one-of-a-kind,
never-seen-anything-like-it
attraction, guaranteed
to entertain!

Catch it here, live!
Twenty-four/ seven,
Ladies and Gentlemen!
No two shows are alike!
Step right up folks!
Admission is free!

(Sarah S. is hosting dVerse Poetics with the theme “Come to the Circus”.  I wrote this poem in April of 2016 when dreams of parenting three small children – and an oversized boy-child – kept haunting me.)

Youngest Child

The Boondocks,
my sisters told me,
was not a desirable
place to be –

‘cool’ being the theme
of our generation –
the line between
what was ‘in’
and what was not,
seemed fragile

to my imagination,
mind climbing
to copious possibilities

constantly slammed
by uptight, in-the-know
older siblings

Is it any wonder
that I never belonged,
the line of inclusion
always just out of reach?

Grew fond of
tucked away
spaces –
isolation

Adapted to
the “boonies” –
more refuge
than exile.

(Poem is brought to you by the inspirational prompting of Ragtag Community (copious), Daily Addictions (theme), Fandango’s (fragile), and Manic Mondays 3 Way prompt (Boondocks).

Small is Beautiful (Poem and Photos)

Nature’s artistry
inspires awe –
jewelled throats
and iridescent curves

flight of the bumblebee 2

Calming hues
and contrasts
that buzz with
dedicated passion

Monarch 3

The vibrancy of wings –
intricate detailing –
orange floating
on unseen hands.

(Lens-Artists Photo Challenge is: small is beautiful)

The Conjurer’s Demise

Bottles and books
gathering possibilities
applications considered
optimistic intent

Potions and words
measuring and recording
experimental diaries
hopeful science –

Tinctures and incantations
ritualistic manipulations
desperate contriving
insanity lurking…

Glass and paper
mold and mildew
dust covered discards
a spider’s haven

Empty and well-perused
shelf-liners stacked
memorabilia cluttering
despair’s cupboard

(Photo provided by Deb Whittam, for 50 Word Thursday.)

Afternoon Visitor

Elegantly attired, he arrives,
focused on an afternoon feast –
garter snakes hiding in bushes –
hadn’t counted on human presence,
interrogates me with hawkish eyes,
just long enough to be immortalized.

(Written for dVerse, hosted by Lilian, who challenges us to create an alphabetical sestet.  To find out more or join in, click here.  Photo credit: V.J. Knutson)