Category: perspective

Finding Corners In Fitted Sheets

Intensity drops in,
early, before
I have a chance
to set the day in order –
puts me on the defensive.

She clings
encourages me to hold on
her sick creativity awake with impulsivity –
I am ailing
loyal
compelled to launder the linens

Desperately trying to find the corners
in the circular fitted sheet –
dependent on daily chores.

She wants to talk about feelings
but I am still numbed from sleep
from this never-ending illness,
from this perfectionist drive for optimism

She wants to embrace
hug me into submission
lecture me on the benefits
of organics and loose-leaf teas
and I am too busy avoiding her
to be grateful.

(Originally written in 2018, and edited here. Image my own)

Societal Ask

Can we acknowledge the richness of our resources:
that which sustains and endures? Always looking for the next shiny thing,
craving the exotic, the surprising… pushing purpose, movement… toward what? Telling ourselves we want lifelong commitment, and then moving on… emotions depleted. How do we define standards, intuit and reassemble a frame, counsel a collective, when expectations, creeping and woven into consciousness, resemble oppression? Hope -as sold by patriarchal mindsets, striving to mutilate common sense – is useless to revive when society teaches us to blindly follow the unintelligible…

Full moon a warning –
reverence for mystery
not conspiracy

Society’s light
waning on the back of lies-
hopelessness surreal

Hate is born from fear
disinformation a tool –
We are being played.

Step back! Cautions moon
observe under a new light –
reconnect with love.

(This poem, derived from a dream, started as a haibun – prose followed by a haiku – but the haiku multiplied. Guess we will call it a variation on a haibun. Image my own.)

I See It Now

Commit doubting
Unaware of agendas,
inferiority driven
tainted by dependency

Seeking familiarity –
anxiety in togetherness –
a stranger to pridefulness

Shouldn’t love be comfortable
at least, at the outset?

I am spontaneous,
I tell myself,
rely on Fate’s presence
no need to discern

Might as well send out an invite:
This heart is unlocked;
abuse welcome here!

(Image my creation)

The Pilgrimage

A soft-sided,
well worn,
briefcase
slouches
in a closet

One side agape,
a red lanyard
stuffed inside –
occupational identity

A row of black, brown, and gray pumps
line up beside it – a thin layer of dust
betraying idleness.

Silent, unblinking,
a television recedes
into the wall,
flanked on either side
by smiling images –
shadows of nostalgia.

Stacks of books
and journals
rumour
a scholarly mind.

The woman,
to whom all these trivialities
once had relevance
is no longer here.

She has been called to another purpose.

(Originally written in 2014, The Pilgrimage strives to help me understand the purpose behind losing all to illness. Image my own)

Colouring Lessons

Favourite colour?
Black, says she
without hesitation

I falter, stumble,
mind reaching –
who likes black?

Is that a colour?
It’s all colours!
She’s nonchalant

intent on task –
carefully keeping
within the lines

Of course it is...
ill equipped am I
to disagree, images

of dark somber
corners, sorrow
and death crows –

Why black? ask I,
composure forced –
had anticipated pink

equate childhood
with primary shades,
splotches of yellow

and rainbow skies,
candy red apples
on lollipop trees

But black? No –
black obliterates,
negates, destroys

It holds the colour
inside, she explains.
It’s the outline.

Not annihilation –
order; her mind
conceives of order

So much to learn
from innocence,
have long forgotten

the art of staying
within lines, finding
good in all things.

(Colouring Lessons first appeared here June, 2017. Image my own)