Stuff We’re Made Of

Rainbows and wishes
wings we give daughters

Little girl dreams destined
to hit walls – shortsighted

these laws of oppression –
for sweetness of youth
does not equate with folly

Women are warriors,
our rage underestimated.

(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)

Shoebox Dreams

A simple shoebox, repurposed
with plastered images of dreams –
paper affirmations of aspirations –
shelved and forgotten, its contents

snapshots, faded and torn, remnants
of another time, a different future –
captured when potential was prime
and possibility untainted by illness

This one was retirement – a supposed
celebration – but note how the colour
has drained the cracks obliterating
pride of accomplishment; and notice

how this one crumbles to the touch –
the fragments dissipating even as
my life has dissipated, the image
lost before memory resurfaces, so

much loss when circumstance dictates
direction, overpowers will, and plans
like snowflakes, vanish in the heat
of reality – pain and insult burning

But wait…this one looks promising –
the edges only slightly torn, the image
discernible – could it be that there is
hope yet – a future author I might be?

That’s the thing about times to come,
we fill them with imaginings, and pray,
our hope, like balloons set free in a sea
of unforeseen challenges, and seldom

does the end result reflect projected
plotting, and yet, there is power in
the dreaming, and so I’ll replace the old
with new photographs to store away.

(This is a rerun of a rerun. Still resonates. Image my own)

Childhood Home

The place remains in my dreams
like a movie set preserved…

Have assigned each room
a critique – disclosed the crimes

Yet, it remains, like a beacon
draws me to it, begs reflection

What if I could go back
now that I can breathe

Now that I’ve laid claim to maturity;
would I discover a sudden windfall?

Makeover conditioned motifs;
reevaluate ceiling heights?

With resources to remodel
heart open, connected

might I uncover abundance
like a personal embrace.

(Childhood Home first appeared May, 2020. Image my own)

Afraid To Fly

I chase dreams
never daring to rise
beyond the water line

keeping to the reeds
and shoreline of familiarity
afraid of being shot down

Afraid that dreams aren’t mine
to claim, that I am damned
doubled cursed as woman
and child of sin

I will fall often
drown in pools of stagnation
till one days these wings

A mind of their own
will lift me up
and catch those dreams.

(Afraid To Fly appeared here June 2019.
Art my own)

Magical Portal

Alternate realities
parallell linear mindset

Ego-less forays into
magical mysteries –
answers secondary

Float in ecstatic
ethereal landscapes
kaleidoscopic hues

Behold irrationality
a mad whirlwind of oneness
convening in momentary flash

The portal’s open
step aboard –
ensure your ticket
is round trip.

(For Eugi’s Weekly prompt: magic.
This is a rewrite of a poem formerly titled: Meet You At The Station.
Art my own.)

Mermaid Dreams

Descending
into the mythical
entranced
spurred by
severity of
current challenge

Call it fantasy
but attempting
movement is
destroying
my passage

I am pulling,
shattering
this barricade
of a life; blue
progressing:
ocean bound.

(Mermaid Dreams was originally written in December of 2016, two years bedridden. Only in the dreamtime was I whole and capable of overcoming. Dreams are one thing I can talk about for thirty minutes without preparation: my challenge this week. Image my own.)

Dreaming Archetypal

She rises from the river –
a culmination of my prayers
and tears, I suppose

Eyes glow with a ungodly hunger
Is she predator or night prowler
I wonder, frozen from fright

Disinterested in ego, ignoring
perfection, she multiplies
her energy frenetic

I try to harness her,
tame the primal, raw force
fear I cannot house her

But she is no one’s property
moves with fluidity, a shapeshifter
mythical in her stride

Like Eve, she is original sin
searching for deeper meaning
beyond this man-made paradise.


(Image and poem originated in a dream. Not sure I did the message justice but it begged delivery.)