Emotions a mess
no security in words
page invites finesse
thoughts tumble, filters falter
longueur of sentences bore.
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image mine.)
Emotions a mess
no security in words
page invites finesse
thoughts tumble, filters falter
longueur of sentences bore.
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image mine.)
(Disclaimer: I am submitting this poem for Reena’s Exploration challenge: horror. The poem arose from a nightmare, and my be triggering for some readers.)
They always take the back roads,
virginal snow-covered lanes
lined with trees: pastoral views
Unmarked routes, out of sight,
use the innocence of landscape
to blot out their dark intentions
Pristine picture perfect scenes
lull the unsuspecting; breath-
taking vistas: secret keepers
The roads still exist in my dreams
the trees like soldiers, stiff and stark
stripped of their magical allure, now
guard the memories, painted red
with loss of purity; I had not
guessed the danger of woods
child mind incapable of conceiving
what wolves roamed in nature
the blood of their victims crimson
stains forever etched in silhouette
the shrillness of their screams
now silent echoes in the night.
(Secret Keepers first appeared here September of 2016. Art my own.)
Fickle, I am –
life cycles catching me
unaware, unstable –
Lessons I appreciate
opportunities to expand
heart…mind…
But this isolation
this carrel-based living
limits perspective
Still, I try.
I am a dog, or so
horoscope tells me…
certainly been referred to
as the mother of…
Private lives fascinate me
tenderness tossed away
in the courtship process
Some prefer on screen
interaction – erecting
false intimacy
I am tired of it all
bark the right of refusal
no encores for me…
…except I’m a damn dog..
man’s best friend, so they say
loyal companion… shoot!
Lend me that crystal ball…
(A bit of light humour for this first day of October. Inspired by Eugi’s Causerie weekly prompt: crystal ball. Image my own.)
Quiet now, places
harbouring my memories –
river dreamcatcher –
nostalgia floats on swan’s back
past bridges linking time lapsed.
(Tuesdays I borrow from my Twitter account #Vjknutson. Image my own)
Illusory this ideation of separation
intricate the webs that bind us
Politicians focus on the holes
pander to the vacuous –
Seekers resonate with connection
consciousness raising awareness
Remain steadfast protestors
your vibrations wide-reaching.
(submitted for Reena’s Exploration challenge: prompt the featured image.)
These shackles may be but illusions
but the conditioning lingers –
I’m not enough
lack the look
the chic
fall short of acceptable
Add age and I am
forever sentenced
to monachopsis –
an outsider,
circling.
(Image mine)
Immersed in trauma
I excel – bleed compassion
Can cut to the chase
employ know-how
Remain cheerful
whilst inhaling paranoia
Determined to connect
square the issues
But offer me kindness
touch with intent
and I will withdraw
gingerly inept
unaccustomed as I am
to Love’s cosmos.
(Submitted for Eugi Causerie’s weekly prompt: cosmos. Image my own.)
Bound to this saudade –
the agony of knowing
I let you go, rejected
a love so pure –
the road has been long
pitted with heartache
you, my greatest regret.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter. Image my own.)
He polishes chrome
while she shuffles Tarot
Luck temporarily
suspended by edicts
Life in limbo highlights
the chasm – incommunicado
They maintain distance
choking on tension
Define this as home…
(Image mine)