A life of servitude,
the guru said,
surely leads to Nirvana
No debate permitted –
we are but plebes
answer his every need
mere women, born
to serve, to nurture…
I flee the cult
Why? Because I can.
Servitude does not
negate free will.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
Is there an itinerary for this lockdown?
I watch as engagements line up
Adventure-seekers, eager to connect
willingly engage, purchase a ticket
How I would give my life to be a part
hop aboard a sailing ship, escape
Except disability has recalled my passport;
I am a vehicle without fuel, grounded
Disappointment and I watch as
familiar faces venture out –
a friend’s brother
an old crush
a high school acquaintance
While envy reminds me
I’m always an outsider
Sensibility wakes me up
This boat I’m missing out on
is no luxury cruise ship, but
a dalliance with death –
I surrender to isolation
count the casualties.
( Image my own.)
Too young to understand
ethos of beauty regimes
she rejects girlish rituals
sees beauty in nature
in glitter of make-believe
This abnegation of grooming
not rebellion, but appreciation
a nuance that escapes
Mother’s frustrated efforts.
(My granddaughters balk at having their hair done, something that drove me crazy as a parent, but now reminds me of myself as a child. One generation removed, I view the issue from a new perspective. Image from personal collection.)
History invents theorem
generation repeating
variations on a misery
absent fathers
mothers overwhelmed
heartache welded
into young psyches
till inspiration invites
a new hypothesis.
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
A cruel master
the ticking clock
So much potential
Get it done!
I rush past shadows
crumple the pages
failed attempts
mounting
What of dreams?
Of life’s destiny?
How I worship
at the altar of should
Even with positivity
fantastical notions fall short
I argue against uncertainty
meet only disapproval
There is no magic
no pre-destined fame
just dust gathering
the dead are unimpressed.
(Linking up with Reena’s Exploration challenge: follow link for video prompt. Image my own.)
I see a nation
uniting for a purpose
their pride as buckshot
forging new paths for justice
repairing gaps – room to breathe.
(Image my own)
Illusory this ideation of separation
intricate the webs that bind us
Politicians focus on the holes
pander to the vacuous –
Seekers resonate with connection
consciousness raising awareness
Remain steadfast protestors
your vibrations wide-reaching.
(submitted for Reena’s Exploration challenge: prompt the featured image.)
These shackles may be but illusions
but the conditioning lingers –
I’m not enough
lack the look
the chic
fall short of acceptable
Add age and I am
forever sentenced
to monachopsis –
an outsider,
circling.
(Image mine)
I crave orange –
not the shade of deceit
oozing in political corners
I seek fiery tones
the hues of transformation
the promise beyond this cocoon.
(Image my own.)
Two mothers were we
frozen in disbelief
as smoke rose
Cried for the losses
for our children
for a future devoid
of peace
Two mothers
hand-in-hand
shattered
A Christian
and a Muslim
War destroys all dreams.
(Image my own.)
One Woman's Quest 