Green eyes captivate,
he whispers, warm hand
resting on youthful thigh
Stomach somersaults
reviled by whiskey breath
yellowed fingers clutching
Not these eyes! I stand
tossing my drink in his face;
coming of age moment.
Forgo the Mask
Discontentment –
that restless inability
to surrender to distraction –
not easily masked
Wired, I am, for intrigue –
a dramatic actor displaying
mystery, baiting an audience
Denial dons noise-cancelling
headphones, blinders –
invested in illusions
Harmony the end-goal –
no point disguising,
discontentment ignored.
(Forgo the Mask originally appeared here Dec, 2018. I am linking it up to Eugi’s Causerie Weekly Prompt: harmony. Image my own.)
Stuck in a Rut
In every moment
my life is a palindrome –
same backwards as forwards,
from cellar to attic and back –
searching for a centre point
so I can reset the track.
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
Childhood Home
The place remains in my dreams
like a movie set preserved…
Have assigned each room
a critique – disclosed the crimes
Yet, it remains, like a beacon
draws me to it, begs reflection
What if I could go back
now that I can breathe
Now that I’ve laid claim to maturity
would I discover a sudden windfall
makeover conditioned motifs
reevaluate ceiling heights
with resources to remodel
heart open, connected
might I uncover abundance
like a personal embrace.
(For Reena’s Exploration Challenge: featured image.)
Survivor Instinct
Buried alive
by illness’ onset
only hope for escape
tunnel whose guilt-lined
walls oozed mucous
of neglect, sorrow
so raw, shredded
faith – no light
just a dull
pulse
screaming –
I am alive.
(Chronic illness is a game changer. No amount of ambition can turn the tide. One is left to face the onslaught of that which has been oppressed or skipped over. I wrote this poem early in my journey with ME. Amazingly, no matter what, spirit still clings to life. Image from personal collection.)
What We Really Need
We purchase boards
imagine roots –
dream bigger
ignore the dawning
The higher the fence,
we tell ourselves,
the better the privacy.
Work hard, earn big.
And the longing grows
it’s the heart that seeks roots
hungers for connection
love like sunshine
Would knock down walls
throw open the doors
bask in the expansiveness
of kindred moments shared.
(For Eugi’s Causerie Weekly prompt: sunshine. Image is my own – a common merganser basking in sunshine.)
Choked
Heart, craving expression
seeks the aid of paper –
A message with pizzaz
a testament to love
But my pen chokes
on the word itself
refuses the pronouncement
soul balking at the possibility
I toss the note…
…maybe next time.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from my Twitter account @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
