I weave words
with alacrity –
on a mission
Foreign forces
infiltrate brain
cells scrambling
Must write
till ability wanes
thoughts hang
Disconnected
brushed away
like cobwebs
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
I weave words
with alacrity –
on a mission
Foreign forces
infiltrate brain
cells scrambling
Must write
till ability wanes
thoughts hang
Disconnected
brushed away
like cobwebs
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
Oh, the plans I make –
swept up in sudden quietude –
art, writing, books to read –
creativity leaps with excitement
And yet, there is a somber tone
ringing in my head – an anxious
whirring – reframing solitude
as social aberration…
And in this dance of light and dark
how shall I weave the threads
braid together a semblance of order
find a balance I can live with?
(Inspired by the prompting of Reena’s Exploration Challenge: quarantined thoughts. Image my own.)
Can common sense be taught –
friendly snapshots coercing shifts?
Novices proclaim innocence,
blame their peers, but remember
When humanity is a foreign concept,
and sensibility a second tongue
The underdog suffers, and
who knows what is to follow?
(For Eugi’s Causerie weekly prompt: underdog. Image my own.)
I dream of a woman
Mother-centred
grey-haired essence
oozing strength –
a vessel, rain focused
decoding political lies.
Leaders are locked
targeting anxiety
selective stances
patriarchal bedmates
ending unsafe
Rioters blow up
martyr consciousness
metamorphosis in throngs
chemicals insignificant
when innocence ignored
temples violated.
What is next?
A future gatekeeper
spouting personal freedom
recalling pleas, charming
ghosts of the past?
We need
discernment,
a woman
Mother-centred
grey-hair wise
leading the way.
(I dreamt of a goddess figure, and attempted to capture her in the pencil drawing featured. Working on that dream, many things have emerged. The poem above is just on example.)
I am shadow
darkness clouding light
sun’s alter ego –
I speak of hidden
truths, altered lies
guard broken places
Crack my surface
I am ice, will thaw
reveal patches
I am shadow
fear me not –
a path to wholeness.
(Tuesday, I borrow from my Twitter poems @Vjknutson. Image my own)
Waiting in the wings
absent an audience
what play will unfold
when the next curtain rises –
and who will hold centre stage?
(A tanka for Reena’s Exploration challenge in which she references Shakespeare’s: “All the world’s a stage….”. Image my own.)
Earth plies her paintbrush
under heavy cloud cover
sun perseveres
wind carries a secret tune –
notes of change on horizon.
(Image my own)
This platform is shaky,
I must confess,
built of co-dependent aims
carnival life expectations.
Still a steady hand
and a weeping heart
good writing companions make
or, so I tell myself
You see, despite clever musings
I’m as guilty of denial as the next
and as far as clarity goes
I’ve been myopic forever
Guess, I’m trying to say
that without an audience
I’d be nothing – and so to you
this blogging community – gratitude.
(For Reena’s Exploration challenge: Writer’s platform/ reality; and Eugi’s Causerie Weekly Prompt: gratitude. Image my own.)
Craving compassion
I seek the wisdom
of the river –
Her glimmering waters
reflect sun’s warmth
I am at once calmed
and uplifted –
seagull raises his wings
emits an ungodly chuckle.
(Image, my own, is not actually a Laughing Gull, but the title fits.)
Bridging was his MO
caught me post divorce
when needs were slippery
Sapped my spirit
drained my love, then
latched onto new youth –
Most liberating gift
he ever gave me.
(Image from personal collection)