Midnight, the water
running between us,
frigid the air –
despondent the heart
whose selfish outburst
destroyed the bridge
to your love.
(Twitter poems @Vjknutson)
Old Codgers
Idleness fills his hours
as if time knows no limits
I devour moments, afraid
tomorrow will forget me
we see-saw between
treacherous righteousness
and fusty avoidance
ignoring balance –
a sensible response.
(Inspired by the perils of an aging marriage, and submitted for Ragtag Community’s prompt: Â fusty.) Â Image from personal collection.
All But Comatose
If death is sleep
then surely I am close –
body leaden
refuses to budge,
brain a slow crawl
I would feel something –
remorse, fear, confusion –
but the weight of slumber
has numbed senses,
reaction sludge
only a drum, drum
of heart harkens
life’s continued spark –
What thread of will
keeps me hanging on,
surely sleep preferable?
(Myalgic Encephalomyelitis is characterized by exhaustion after exertion. Â The fatigue is systemic. )
Chickadee
A rustle, a song
chick-a-dee-dee-dee
my heart thrills
black cap
and grey back
he branch hops
delightful antics
chick-a-dee-dee-dee
my camera snaps.
(Granny Shot It is hosting a Bird Of The Day challenge, so I’ve decided to hop on Fridays.)
Sky Talk
Painted skies whisper
a nightly farewell – silent
beauty speaks volumes.
(For RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Prompt Challenge: beauty & quiet)
Facing Truths
I am communicator,
initiator,
anticipate
a friendly invitation
from the unknown
But the subconscious
alights on the familial –
gathers sanctimonious,
moneyless, old, empty
terrors of dysfunction –
spits out shame
and rage.
Like it or not –
I am vulnerable.
Word Scat
Drop words like scat –
an odorous trail,
mixed ramblings,
deterring detection –
from numinous
and life-affirming
to egregious and vile –
follow me if you can.
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter, @Vjknutson.)
Love-In
Dreams big
this budding leader,
astral charts
painted on her walls,
thoughts always adventuring.
Eight summers
we’ve camped together
grown our minds
and spirit –
an inter-generational
love-in.
(It’s summer camp time at Grandma’s again. Â Written for Ragtag Community’s prompt, astral, and Fandango’s, camp.)
Creativity Delves Too Deep
Creativity lands in unfamiliar,
communicates with the unknown –
unformed connections invite themselves in
I am open
Religiosity emerges from the crypt –
impoverished, depraved, and hungry –
overwhelmed, I am embarrassed, enraged –
should not have let my guard down.
No Fool Here
We grow our world
under evening light,
all soul charm and dance –
he a gentle father,
nice guy, quiet…
I believed.
But when search neared,
touchy –Â see a former ruse,
one smile warmed and…
sod off!
(Friday, I visit Magnetic Poetry online – words not my own, but I take responsibility for the construction. Image from personal collection.)
One Woman's Quest 