Manic Moments

…and some days
we stand up
topple the furnishings
of corporate order
decry politics
and etiquettes
and rage,
rage,
inner light
exploding
in a shattering
ball of fire
blinding
purifying
setting souls free
setting us free

…and then
it’s over –
in a blink
and our desk mate
still sleeps the slumber of automaton
clicks a mouse in rhythm with photocopier

we sigh
and re-conform.

 

 

 

 

Even Ghosts Yearn

Natural light preferable
to artificial – not the harsh
fullness of noonday sun
but softly filtered rays –
luxurious, inviting.

Love too, should be subdued,
gentle as a zephyr, not mythical
but yielding, mindful;
not worshipful nor boastful,
but comforting, warm

I am waning light,
the mistral wind wafting,
no longer a force of nature –
but smoke, spiralling,
vanishing into non-existence

And yet, even as shadows
spread, I yearn –
heart beating true,
not lost, not forgotten,
but withdrawn, humbled

passion mellowed
by toil of constructing walls –
grit and tar – scar’s long buried,
save the limping gait
of a ghost.

(Poem first appeared here July, 2018.  I am resubmitting for Ragtag Community’s prompt: humble.  Image from personal collection.)

Discipline

That tone –
teeth clenched
lips taut
the coldness
in your gaze

I swallow
anxiously
shifting
foot to foot

await
raise of hand
fist clenched
in ball of rage

smugness
vanquished
in ominous wait

but you pause
step back
straighten
mouth relaxing
into a grin

with a twinkle
admit
you might have
done the same.

(Written for All The Shoes I Wear, whose prompt is ominous.

Once a Mermaid

Impulse once drove my plunges –
glorious confidence propelling
fortuitous dives – unknown waters
an adventure to be conquered.

Even with onset of anxiety
I’d stalk shorelines, ignore
whispering of  catastrophe,
hold my breath and submerge.

Doubt would follow determination,
but buoyed by adversity, I’d swim,
force commanding adaptation –
I’d find my mermaid’s breath.

Motherhood introduced constraint
called forth sensibility and caution –
whimsy replacing practicality,
a shedding of iridescent tail.

I only dig in dirt now –
ground my offspring to earthly
forays, forbid capriciousness,
convince myself I’m solid.

Absentminded burrowing –
(corners of compulsion)
reveal abandoned passages –
old waterways exhumed.

Proclaimed pragmatism falters,
spontaneity takes hold, transforms
I am nymph again – free floating
Neptune’s daughter resuscitated.

(This poem, originally entitled Chasing Mermaids, first appeared in September, 2015.  It has been edited.  Image is my own.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Losing Touch

Sure-footed
she navigates
forest floor

leaps over
obstacles,
scales inclines

knows each
nook and cranny
every sound
a greeting

but seasons pass
and time erodes
landscapes
and senses
lose sharpness

 

the nuances
of the woods
fading  memory

the wind’s whispers
elusive signals
inner nymph silenced.

(For Ragtag Community’s Daily Prompt: elusive.  Image from personal collection.)