Category: life

Where Servitude Ends

Born to be domesticated
in a white, controlled desert
tending to two-leggeds –

blamed for delinquencies
I fed but did not groom –
privacy overrun by wannabes

everyone has their own scheme –
I am finished, threaten to disclose
neglect – no limitation to disgust

What fate is this? Abandoned
only to perish – Have I not been
loyal?  Accepting of my role?

Tending to young, in charge of
personal care – translation:
laundry – only comfort solitude.

Past – as industrious as a line
of ants – no longer viable, I am
nothing, dependents gone;

bodily restrictions now claim me
forgotten dreams dissolved – I am
dependent, unwilling legs confine

care unpredictable – ward of the
state – semblance of nutrition
provided, encouraged to sanitize

my body, my attitude; no rest
this home is overpopulated –
vocal laments torment old ears

Pestered by small things, would
leave, stop being a burden, am
decidedly stuck, until life fades.

(Image: favim.com)

Balance

Contemplating new life –
he, gainfully employed,
promotes change eagerly –

years of isolation render me
dubious, aspirations limited
to a cup of tea, fear dining out

his palate embraced by any menu,
mine a complex set of restrictions,
condemned to serial disappointment

undaunted by my disabilities, he
ventures forth, seeks solutions
with godlike inspiration commands

possibility, accounts for idiosyncracies
pursues alternative options, is a master
of ensuring that dreams do come true.

Turn Off That Screen!

It’s a crapshoot –
self-aggrandized,
charity-loving,
ostentatious celebrities
polluting developing minds
masking panic;

collective agreements
re-violating, prodding
drive elaborate schemes
to improve our living status
personas discomforting
to future generations;

what entertainment –
bait and switch tactics
proclaiming worthy causes
grand venues depicting happy
disguising uncertainty
loss of societal innocence
overshadowed.

(Image: media-values.blogspot.com)

 

Goldfish Reflections

I’m a freshwater gal,
prefer murky, stagnant
pools to the onrush
of rapids, currents

annoy me, challenge
my delicate body,
content to feed off
lanky foliage, swim

in dim-lit passages;
fear it was the flash
of gold, or glimpse
of a mermaid tail

that first attracted
man, compelled him
to trap then breed me
artificially – in glass

houses, distorted
worlds colliding with
my sensitivity, absent
safe havens for retreat.

Worldly now, tossed
into constructs called
ponds – added rocks,
footbridges or lily pads

do not deceive me –
cellular memory is
not to be quieted, I
dream of night skies,

and morning dew, and
sun baking the water’s
surface, of diversity,
schools and families

cannot tolerate this
one-flush destiny,
need space to be –
not an illusion of

recognize my captivity
for what it is – concrete
walls cannot define me;
the wild, the free burns

deep – thousand years
of containment has not
defiled my DNA, and I
will remember long after

that final plunge, in
reincarnation may not
be so forgiving – no
longer a timid fish.

(image: http://animals.mom.me/goldfish-live-4748.html)

 

 

Blogging Confidential

Find comfort amongst bloggers,
witness the birth of writers,
misplace my own purpose, fallen

gather ideas, maintain my shame;
I am a fictional character, having
miscarried my own story, declined

into dirt – dangerous; energy limited,
no stores to drive me, never really
known a home where peace dwells,

where brilliance is nurtured, worn
down with beatings, ascribed to
independence too young, immature

chose boisterousness over gentleness,
became a second/third-hand wife,
parent, place last behind responsibility.

beat myself up now over my stupidity,
lack of credibility, an obligatory failure –
any wisdom preserved redundant.

Stop already!  This is but a one-sided
tale coloured by shame – change the
lens, multiple stories await birthing

find comfort amongst bloggers,
witness the growth of writers,
recognize the shared experience.

Ancestral Rot

British roots define
particular brand of
peculiarity – shared
claustrophobia –

fear of closeness;
need to lie down,
separate myself,
am married now

childless dreams
dust; I am cook,
cleaner – project
sparkle where dirt

still lingers, losing
rationality, not quite
catching on; want
to send flowers,

honour passings
but soul wounds,
unbandaged, gape –
hunger to be free.

(Image: www.apa.org)

Toppled Anger

(A little light-hearted word play.  Hope you enjoy.)

Anger, invested in former foibles –
an underground agent for disaster –
makes recommendations, promotes
aggressive agenda, takes the lead,
direction (or lack of it) exploding,
repurposes itself, expectations
that its self-serving cause is
perfectly understandable.

Understand perfectly
that self-serving causes
are expectations, repurposed
explosions of misdirections,
leading takes agenda,
aggressive promotion
recommendations make
disastrous agents for
underground foibles,
formerly invested in anger.

(Image: teddyray.com)

Disruption’s Message

Orlando, Paris, Columbine –
horrific stains on social
conscience – no room for
bystanders – our house is
divided, projecting fear into
sunsets, volatility illuminating,
initiating paralysis – terror
cannot be contained by
a single story –

Suburbia is on fire
minorities in the street
witnessing targeted
violence, neighbourhoods
torn apart, darkening clouds
hovering – losing sight of
the richness of our resources
need to shelter, reorganize
fight this fragmentation
of values, together…

Maybe comfort is the enemy
pockets of turmoil exploding
alerting, shaking our complacency
shining light on the faithlessness
of our priorities, encouraging
breakthrough — the world
grows smaller
and none of us
is alone.
(Image: www.theepochtimes.com)

Horizontal Reflections

Breaking through loss –
alone without independence –
reach out for former lover,
wanting to renegotiate the terms
of our disruption,
am permanently horizontal, restless,
in this unexpected life.

Reckless youth
torturing me – I am vulnerability
landed, past mistakes rippling through –
need to find a private place away
from myself where reassurance is
a dinner mate, and fear
otherwise engaged.

But the past cannot be
retrieved, and there is support
in the present, if I let down
this guard, I’ll feel
the security
of love.

(Image: parisapartment.wordpress.com)