Ingredients for despair –
illness, COVID, loss –
all meted…
Never did follow recipes
I see only openings
potential for enrichment
how the lens has power
to ruminate or celebrate
(Art my own)
Ingredients for despair –
illness, COVID, loss –
all meted…
Never did follow recipes
I see only openings
potential for enrichment
how the lens has power
to ruminate or celebrate
(Art my own)
Here’s a boy, tender
and raw, heart exposed
awkward innocence
blocking intention
Here’s a man, fiery
eyes, hands coarse,
face leather, smoky
words coaxing affection
Here’s a girl, book smart
heart uncertain, romance
a fluttery desire, caught
between the two, torn
The boy averts his eyes
fears she’ll see the raging
in his loins, read obsession
in his longing, reject him
The man takes her hand,
softly traces the outline
of her face, slow, seductive
draws her into his mystery
She is a two-headed lamb
ponders the breadth of
the boy’s shoulders, knows
his future is a srtaight line
Hormones raging at man’s
touch, the way his eyes
devour her, the magical
nuances in his voice
Two paths, she thinks
two diverging outcomes;
the boy holds himself erect
feels his fate is decided
The man lays his head
in her lap, thick waves
of black thrilling her –
a dead-end street
Is it pride that makes
the boy look away, she
wonders, or am I not
good enough, tainted?
She turns to the older
man, smiles, pull him
to her and surrenders,
darkness a familiar place.
(Decided to resurrect this old poem for Eugi’s Weekly Prompt: romance. Image my own.)
Barrage of fears
plague each dream
render me useless
Invoke positivity, you say,
but the voices persist
intimate familiars
I set each fright adrift
hide among the weeds
pray for a moment’s reprieve.
(Image mine)
Gambled late in life –
one more spin on love’s wheel –
we got lucky
You’ll need protection,
ego said,
and led me down paths
soaked with yesterday’s tears-
annoyances nipping at progress
But I am strong-willed
better than that,
I said, choosing to follow
a different route
The roulette wheel spins
and here I sit, alone
counting my wins
No amount of bargaining
can alter current misfortune
Pray my husband
finds his way back.
(Image my own)
Remember youth?
Life an adventure
heart full of dreams
Responsibility made us quartz
working machines, focus
on destination – life as goal
In the gloaming, time blurs
nostalgia and regret dance with
perspective – the irony of it all.
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
I am so tired of waiting,
Aren’t you,
For the world to become good
And beautiful and kind?
Let us take a knife
And cut the world in two –
And see what worms are eating
At the rind.
(February is Black History Month. Image my own.)
Disclosure:
While I strive
for wholeness
I am given
to negative
Thoughts –
while fractional
nonetheless
count individually –
Add it all up
and I am
at times
zero
An integer
swaying backwards
and forwards
begging patience.
(Image mine)
Winter donned
her finest lace
today,
shimmered beneath
peacock blues
Despite a sullen
arousal, the dull
thud of worry
hovering
appreciation
lightened the mood
(For Eugi’s Weekly Challenge: Winter. Photo my own.)
Lean into darkness
faith examining breadth
I will hold you, Love
fears imaginary, truth
luminous – let go and be.
(A prayerful tanka for my inner child.
Linking up with my weekly challenge: repercussions.
Image mine.)
A band of blue jays
gather around, debase
serenity of this garden
party: chickadees and cardinals
scatter, sense danger
in raucous intrusion –
Bemused, I watch, marvel
birds parodying humans.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)