Stirred

Unheralded,
an apparition
in white –
wings enveloping,
uplifting

soul cries,
voiceless,
powerless –
no pause
on perfection

she follows coastlines
while I travel roads,
fades from view

her shadow lingers,
wraps me in melancholy

one minute of rapture –
enough to make me mourn.

(Inspired by the sudden appearance of an egret while shooting this image.  Submitted for Manic Mondays 3 Way Prompt:  roads, and Reena’s Exploration challenge:  one minute.)

Sexy Sailed

Born brilliant,
and good looking,
he had me dancing,
fevered –
red cat woman,
I am porcelain,
prisoner,
cup fishing,
long to explore
dark words –
do not ask though –
sexy sailed –
ate godless
byes.

(It’s Magnetic Poetry Friday.)

 

Unwanted

Like a wanted woman,
I hide in public places

One step ahead of recognition,
ignoring friendly gestures,
leaving confusion in my wake

I’m tired of this game,
the pretence – long only
to turn myself in

tear away the mask
and announce
my presence

but I’m afraid –
could lose it all –
career, reputation

all for a crime I did not commit.

Oh wait…I already did –
just like a wanted woman…

(Image from personal collection.  My images, some with poetry are now available through Society6.  I’d love it if you’d check us out and leave feedback.)

Family Portrait

Did you know that life would come to this?
Flattened memories pressed between wax,
the essence of our efforts forgotten, the dreams,
so carefully construed, lost.  You leaned toward
the conventional, and I was ever the sentimentalist
and yet we ended up in the same place – shadow
selves standing at the banks of our disheveled lives,
survivors, nonetheless, tokens of a past riddled
with so many lies, so much heartbreak, we are
ghost sisters, haunted, hunting, unable to step
away – drawn in, pulling apart – all that remains.

Oh Woe, Oh Why?

Why must I suffer acne still?
What trick of fate, whose wily will?
I am too far over the hill,
refuse to take a teenage pill,
must be this state of chronic ill.

(A funny ditty for Dark Side Of the Moon’s Whyquain challenge.  I might have taken liberties with the form, but it was fun to write.)

Sleeping Alone

Sleeping alone
with so much intrusion –

child born of good intentions
awash in a trail of barricades

I cope, cook up breezes, strike
wet ground – stuff myself to satiate

the onslaught, ground rapidly shifting –
Earth Mother exerting presence –

too stubborn, I turn away, look for
God but my cup keeps moving –

I am unreachable, charmed by
a broken tale, aimless, oppositional

overwhelmed – cry out but absence
holds no listeners – need adhesive

to fix this urgency – a peerless torrent –
if only I could simply these wounds

find a stopgap – emotion overflows,
exerts turmoil, sorrow replaying

sleep offers no repair, alone,
tormented by the issue at hand.

(Every so often, I revisit old poems and revise.  Sleeping Alone first appeared here in December of 2017, when I was still in the throes of severe illness.  I’ve come along way and it’s good to look back and see the progress. I am also linking this up to my weekly challenge, reaching.)