All This Nonsense

The Queen is in the swimming pool –
oversized stuffy with a crown
The well is overflowing
and I’m afraid I’m going to drown

Children in the backyard
Stay away from all that’s wet!
The baby is a-coming
and I’m not ready yet!

Please feed the offspring
while I scurry hurriedly about
back and forth to University
trying to gain some clout

Today is my birthday
although you’d never know
I’m so busy skirting circles
with no real place to go

Never have I been so rushed
to get to I know not where
perhaps if I could sit awhile
I’d get from here to there

The Queen is floating upside down
her cardboard crown deflating
It’s time I called off the charade
give this routine an updating

(Image mine. Nonsense poem inspired by a recent dream – sums things up pretty well, I’d say. Not my birthday.)

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Dreams Challenge

I mine fragmented images
of nighttime forays,
grasping for a gem –

subject to trickery
impatient and unwise –

ego shields illumination
abhors vulnerability
distracts me with logic-

Still, the dreams continue
enticing a deeper dive

(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)

What Dreams Reveal

Two decades before the fall
I dreamt of that white house
with black shutters,
entered the dimness
and saw myself –
withered, a straw body

Could I have altered the course
gathered that mummified self
in my arms, breathed new passion
into old bones, stopped
the onslaught of night
of cells freezing
passionless

No.
I walked in oblivion
seduced by false trickery
dim-witted in the fading light
cold, aloof, unresponsive
warnings be damned

Two decades later,
body inert, mind bereft
of hope – I dreamt
of a younger self
so intent on life
that she passed me by.

Wounded Feminine

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)