Sail erected,
call it ‘Hope’
Location
dialed in
Saboteurs
asleep
Done with
party persona,
inalterable
generalities
Ready to cater
to the awake
Willing to believe
in dreams
There’s a calm
opening, and
Sail is erected,
call it ‘Hope’.
Sail erected,
call it ‘Hope’
Location
dialed in
Saboteurs
asleep
Done with
party persona,
inalterable
generalities
Ready to cater
to the awake
Willing to believe
in dreams
There’s a calm
opening, and
Sail is erected,
call it ‘Hope’.
Circumstances shift –
breath the fertile air –
let dreams fly; expand
embrace change – hope,
now winged, an explorer
bursting with possibility.
I would move this old
body, relocate to new
beginnings, be reborn
but for these internal
trappings – begging for
extermination – retro
shaded memories –
long past expiration –
skewed accessibility,
stretched without purpose,
reconfiguration required –
history a real estate, I need
to unload; who will buy
a drama-laden, single
story alcoholic’s haunt?
Circumstances shift –
sniff the fertile air –
guard forbidden dreams
change, like wings, unfolds
in its own time; be patient,
possibility is taking flight.
(Poem originally appeared August of 2016)
So bound are we
by customs,
and customary,
that seldom
do we recognize
absence –
sparks numbed
and motivation
dwindled –
what is awry
morphs into
projection,
deflection –
easier than
untethering
the leash,
the fear
accompanying
Spirit’s freedom –
the rearing up
of wildness,
or god forbid,
the moxy
to make
real change.
(Written for 50 Word Thursday, with added inspiration from Fandango (bound), Ragtag Community (absent), Daily Addictions (awry).)

(Written for Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge: Â change & rebel. Â Image from personal collection.)

Outside, clouds hover,
heavy, threatening.
Inside, men haul –
china cabinet,
weathered couch –
accumulation
marking years,
exiting under duress
echoes fill in the spaces
scent of soured sweat lingers
kitchen counters
glare, empty
layers of our lives
stripped away
our vacated shell,
an emotional tug
Is it fear? Â Sorrow?
What was it all about anyway?
closing the door behind us
locking memories in the past
we load our small boxes
essentials for a simpler life –
a home on wheels life
point our nose forward
and drive away
as the sun breaks through.
(A year ago, we sold our bricks and sticks house, along with its contents and moved into a motor home. Â Now we are reversing the process – accumulating and setting up house again. Â Apparently, we like change. Â V.J’s weekly challenge is fittingly about home.)
Compromised,
scaling a steep
dangerous
cliff wall
desiring relief,
a sign to indicate
a turning point
an exit
nothing worldly
can calm anxiety
uncertainty
life on hold
kindness
warms, reassures,
cannot counter
looming reality
stifled, begging
willing to deal
response absent
pleas hollow
surrendering
to fear is not an option
strength called for
and courage
love and compassion
the only sword
of significance
battling disease.
(May 12th is Myalgic Encephalomyelitis Awareness Day. Â M.E. is a debilitating disease that attacks all systems in body leaving 25% of its victims permanently bed bound. Â To date, due to lack of research, there is no effective treatment or cure, even though this disease effects over 1/2 million Canadians and many more worldwide.)
The quest for love
an uphill climb,
the footholds
loose and failing
Scrapes heal, and
hearts yearning
begin again, forget
the falls, aspire
Unconditional love
a dizzying height,
soulmates and
pre-destination
Goals for romantics,
by my heart reaches
for a memory, a return
to the beginning
When kisses warm
and embraces strong
conveyed desirability,
love’s reverence a peak
much steeper to attain
when age, in its folly
lusts after a youth’s game,
time a cruel intervener.
What corridor is this?
What beckoning –
wordless
sublime…
is this awakening
or does death
posture
in shadows…
my heart yearns
mourns …
to be absolved
of this strife
Let me surrender
let Grace guide
uncertain limbs
carry me…
I am ready…
Aging, I am
and disabled,
unreliability
trending
Escape is proposed
my oozing scars
beg a stand
discover determination
This slumbering
has become impulsive
need discipline
to quiet the pain
I am whiny
self-mothering
counselling bedrest
prone to coddling
need to shake off
this disoriented
weakened state –
escaped is proposed.