The woman currently abiding
within this costumed realm
is merely a lethargic version
of the once vital but oppressed
Miss, whose identification
was stolen by means of
unsolicited adversity.
The focus of this recanting
is to invite a perspective
that not only restores, but
aids in the teaching of other
shadow-selves, that to reassert
original nature is more than fair.
(A quirky rant for Reena’s Xploration challenge: a stolen identity ; and Eugi’s weekly prompt: shadows. Art my own)
I wake before dawn,
drive through blinding snowstorms,
if lost, alter course – without faltering –
even set out on foot when driving
becomes impossible, navigating
treacherous snow and ice, for you
So you can get where you need to be
So you can succeed
I risk it all for you
I keep you by my side
so that you will be safe
so that I can ensure your arrival
But, I grow weary, and my body
won’t go on, and all I ask for
is that we rest awhile,
so that I can catch my breath
And in that instance, you are gone –
no hesitation in your step, no looking back –
and when you finally stop to wait for me
it is too late…
A barrier has grown between us:
like an eight-foot, chain-link fence
separating me from protecting you
And you look at me with that glare
of exasperation that says:
“I should have done it on my own.”
Wait! Wait, I say.
This wall may seem insurmountable
but I can do it. I can do it; give me time.
I’ll just climb to the top.
It’ll be easy; you’ll see!
Don’t walk away! Give me one more chance
to prove my love. I do it all for you.
(Martyr’s Lament first appeared here in November, 2014.
This version is a rewrite. Image my own.)
To the west, a patch of electric blue
while Eastern clouds tumble grey
With each glance, sky language
alters, as if heaven re-examines
mood – intermittently snows
then explodes in flash of vermillion.
(Image my own)
Beneath icy stalactites
youth catches the first whiffs
of love…merges with a kiss
An icicle drops
startles the pair
their euphoria
broken – an omen?
Prelude to love’s
fickle nature…
How coldly lust
looks away…?
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)
Deception holds these walls in place
denial renders them invisible
I am a dreamer floating
in a bubbled realm…safe
Breathe softly, still
the midnight air,
calm the inner
children,
sing tender
lullabies
of forever…
pretend
Solitude lends
perfection
to daily noise
I am invisible
motionless
free….
deluded.
(For Reena’s Xploration challenge: writing from inside the bubble.
Image my own)
Disability corners me
twixt two directions –
the hurried rush
of ambition’s call
and the gentle nudge
of wisdom settling
Confined to four rooms
I am distanced from –
invisible to –
the weekend warriors
whose self-satisfied grimaces
race by my window
I remember that push –
not enough hours to the day
not enough money to succeed
never thin enough, fit enough
always grasping for more…
Legless and exhausted,
I am disqualified
from competing,
immersed in retrospection,
luxuriating in perspective –
I’ve always had, indeed,
continue to have
everything I need:
a home I can navigate,
the endless beauty of nature
and the care of loved ones.
Abundance, I’ve discovered, is attitude:
recognition and acceptance
that life is sufficiency
(I’ve derived this poem from a post by the same name, dated October 2014.
At the time, I was five months into the losses that were Myalgic Encephalomyelitis.
Image my own)
Sacrifice belies
original plan – the young
overlook fine print
sign up for adventure -war
renders them heroes – souls torn
(Today, we remember those who have fallen – heroes of war.
Photo mine)
Father’s scrutiny
inspired terror,
but that night,
catching the whiff
of alcohol on
underage breath,
I spied a hint
of a sparkle –
dared say so
“Chip off the ol’ block, eh?”
“Don’t you know it,”
he winked back.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson.
Image my own)
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
intact, just need a brighter
angle from which to reveal it.
(Lighting Call first appeared here January, 2019.
Linking up with Reena’s Xploration challenge: light. I
mage my own.)
Forgive the dance –
it’s what I do –
step forward,
slide back,
shuffle, then
lose the rhythm
and start again.
Reaching forward
heart securely tucked,
something embedded –
cellular perhaps –
invites the struggle
and so, I dance –
yesterday, a warrior
today the fool
tomorrow only knows
multi-faceted,
roughly cut,
a gem
of an undefined hue
I will always try again.
(Poem first appeared on One Woman’s Quest II, entitled “Forgive The Dance”, October, 2019. Image my own.)
One Woman's Quest 