If eternity a breath,
I must smoke hard,
go fish a breeze.
Only son, the explorer,
always steel –
red, green are broken,
he puts those in cupcake.
(Thank you to Magnetic Poetry online for the words.)
If eternity a breath,
I must smoke hard,
go fish a breeze.
Only son, the explorer,
always steel –
red, green are broken,
he puts those in cupcake.
(Thank you to Magnetic Poetry online for the words.)
Lead the children to the waters’ edge,
let spirits that dwell there enchant,
sun glistening on star-filled eyes…..
teach the essence of dolphin breathing,
the presence of manna, how to question
roots and behold miracles of fish that fly
and colours that shimmer below the surface,
and sons that walk on water – there are stories
to be told by tides, whose rhythmic waves
follow a primal chant; the ocean’s whispers
reminders that survival is a game for the living
and that in death all return to its vast depths.
(Water Tales first appeared here in January 2017.  I am submitting it here for dVerse’s Open Link Night hosted by Grace.  I am also linking up with my weekly challenge: stillness.)
Travel is the ask,
so many questions – answers
just fragments of truth.
(Written for Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge: Â answer / question.)
Tides recede,
puddled remnants
of once oceanic flooding –
emotions overpowering –
threats now quelled.
I breathe,
lose myself in visions
of gold and promising greens,
yesterday’s heat a numbing haze
obscuring tomorrow’s obstacles.
Winter defines this stage,
this page, night descending
too early for my taste.
If I catch a falling star,
can I shed the excess
layers of this confinement
Follow animal impulses
to a sunnier clime, restore
exuberance of noble youth?
Passion persists, intelligence
in tact, just need a brighter
angle from which to reveal it.
(Lillian is hosting dVerse poetics tonight with the prompt: shed. Â I am also linking up to Willow Poetry’s “What Do You See?” challenge: photo prompt; and Ragtag Community: angle; as well as Fandango’s: noble.)
Proficient at constructing frames,
I plaster over old mistakes,
convinced that survival equates
with marble – am I not a living
example of metamorphosis?
Yet, my doorways lack locks
and there are intruders in
the basement – confidence
dissipates as rage heightens –
optimism evanescent.
(Penned for the prompts of Ragtag Community – marble; Fandango – plaster; and Manic Mondays Three Way Prompt – evanescent.)
Water mimics sky,
withholds resplendence of blue,
dons a grey raincoat.
I search for sustenance
with indifference –
have difficulty navigating
the aisles of available options.
Divorced from former dreams,
I hunger for renewed inspiration,
encounter only loss and confusion.
Goddess advises, and I,
ear-closed irritated,
hear only assertions
of inadequacy.
I exit possibility,
have lost the vessel
that once propelled me.
(Linking up to Reena’s Exploration Challenge #70)
When their hot tongues lie,
I cry bitter milk –
time can rip at friendly water,
blow him from my sea,
though his shot a show –
am so blue,
a bare want,
in those lies dressed.
(Poem inspired by the offerings of Magnetic Poetry online.)
In weakness vines cling,
crave a solid bolstering –
sage advice: no wall.
(Written for Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge: sage / vine.)