Time stands still;
we wait.
The noise of speculation
stark contrast to the reality
that confronts us…
Where do we go from here,
and what authority to trust
and in this imposed solitude
can we find the strength
of reflection, the courage
to follow an inner lead?
(This poem first appeared on One Woman’s Quest II, in April, 2020. Image my own.)
I’m being a good girl, Dad
Staying out of sight
Keeping my needs to a minimum
Promise I don’t cry, Dad.
I’m being a good wife, Dad
Cooking all his favourites
Letting him walk ahead
Never uttering a peep, Dad
I’m a perfect background wife, Dad
Just like you taught me; just like Mom
Only no one has to hit me to make me
behave, Dad; I learned it good from you.
(Image my own)
The ability to alter one’ perspective –
to shift certainty to openness –
allows for deeper engagement,
life affirming and inspirational,
akin to wonder…
To deviate is to dare.
(Image my own)
(Comments are turned off. Hope to be back tomorrow)
Maudlin convention
I balk at your constraints
jettison the traditions
that propagate hate
Future is an open road
I do not hesitate –
Yes, there is uncertainty
Yes, I’ll make mistakes
Vulnerability will conquer pride
mind willing, convention I’ll shake
(Art mine)
We decry loss of innocence
whilst downplaying our sins
Not news.
Blame is a tricky game…
Better to practice accountability
than to capture the podium…
Changing the world
inside out.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)
Everywhere collisions:
Mindless consumerism
tripping up ambitions
defeating progress
Social networking
mutilating communication
disrupting movement
Consciousness obliterated
by blind compliance
intrinsic motivation extinct
Victims splayed,
flayed, bloody,
numb
Values – not possessions – endure
understanding eliminates dominance
integrity ensures power for all.
Mindfulness calms chaos
quenches grasping urgency
restores hope, direction
Purpose harmonized
with communal focus
realizes potential
releases greatness
(Image my own)
Wrestle me from the spotlight
there is comfort in the dark
Shadowed corners are fertile
where nimble imagination feeds
Weary of the light; I beg of you,
drag this scorched ego
Where edges softly disintegrate
and oblivion refills lost bliss
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)
Shunned for her sin
a young figure
rubs her swelling belly
compulsion driven by fear
Tremors from within
stunt her movement
uncertainty paralyzing
her words…
She is unwed,
repulsive to a society
reeking with ineptitude –
righteousness negating action
Unsuspecting, the baby arrives
emits a scratchy cry –
filling her lungs with hope
and anticipation, trusting
Does not know
in her stark nakedness
that her tragedy is set,
life will not embrace and provide
Poverty has marked her
for a life of hardship –
the pious turn their backs
she is, after all, born of sin.
(Image my own)
On entering the tunnel, I see her –
pallor a notable shade of ghostly
Tattered, her dress hangs in billowing
folds of transparency; she beckons
No words pass between us, but
her haunting gaze begs audience
So, I bear witness to her tale –
a gruesome re-enactment of her death
Slow and agonizing, her femininity
scalded and tortured till flesh festered
and infection drove her to madness –
no solace offered, no medicine rendered
No more than a child, I now see –
a tragic retelling of innocence turned victim
Do not look away, her spirit commands,
the suffering continues, and I will haunt
Till justice recognizes the crime
and restitution restores balance.
(Reena’s Xploration offered the opening line, and Eugi’s Weekly Prompt – notable– added to the narrative. This apparition appeared to me in that tunnel between waking and sleep, begging that I share her story. Image my own)
Sacrifice belies
original plan – the young
overlook fine print
sign up for adventure -war
renders them heroes – souls torn
(Today, we remember those who have fallen – heroes of war.
Photo mine)
One Woman's Quest 