Alleys

What is it about alleys
magnifies fear?

Is it the reflection
of inner passages,
those narrow, dim lit
years, when despair
echoed endlessly?

Days I forgot
to look for light,
imagined none

discredited the truth
that glory dwells
even in dark alleys.

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

Arachnophobia

Creativity –
eight-legged predator –
invades the decks
of my listing mind,
reproducing rapidly.

Her generous,
bejewelled appendages
skittering beneath
my plastic-boned
Caucasian frailty.

I hesitate –
friend or foe?
Should I trample
crush this invasion,
or surrender…
risk madness?

We are ocean –
bound, shoreless
prefer interior spaces
wary of open vistas
equally vulnerable
collapsible

Skittish
evaders
intent on
escape
future
uncertain…

I flee
creativity’s
lair – enter
into darker
passages

Destiny –
creativity’s cousin –
awaits, tail raised
in venomous arc –
dances a warning
does not
strike

body
glowing
phosphorus
green,
melts into
swirling,
flourescent
particles of
Kundalini
rising.

(Image: fineartamerica.com)