Green eyes captivate,
he whispers, warm hand
resting on youthful thigh
Stomach somersaults
reviled by whiskey breath
yellowed fingers clutching
Not these eyes! I stand
tossing my drink in his face;
coming of age moment.
Green eyes captivate,
he whispers, warm hand
resting on youthful thigh
Stomach somersaults
reviled by whiskey breath
yellowed fingers clutching
Not these eyes! I stand
tossing my drink in his face;
coming of age moment.
In every moment
my life is a palindrome –
same backwards as forwards,
from cellar to attic and back –
searching for a centre point
so I can reset the track.
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
Death invites me to dance
extends crooked hand
for crooked hand
takes the gentlemen’s lead
I know his moves –
have watched a time or two
even partnered a few
long, slow waltzes
But I prefer to tango
like the spice and thrill
of life’s lively step
bid him, politely, to move on.
(For Reena’s Exploration challenge: Antidotes to Fear of Death. Also linking up to Eugi’s Causerie Weekly prompt: dancing. Image my own)
Perusing the hardware store
(shops are limited these days)
nothing to tantalize the imagination
still, I browse, searching for normalcy.
Death loiters in aisle 9
taunts me with visions of life
once vibrant, now stolen
leers at me and I bolt
Grocery store holds more allure
ingredients to stir the appetite
the phantom stalks here too
leaves fingerprints on tin cans
The coffee shop has drinks to go
but the spectre follows, leers
schoolboy smug – I’m not sure
whether to laugh or cry
Unamused by the implications
and yet somehow reassured –
the humour doesn’t escape me –
warped this new norm.
All is movement
all is change
Why then am I stuck
a rock holding its ground?
Each moment flows
into the next
then is gone
Calm unsettles me
I stand upon the bank
and search for rapids
Let go of worry
trust process
Life is a river
Take me to that river
bathe me in faith
for now, I fear the flow.
I grow roses to remember
a beloved grandmother
the dreams of innocence
the blush of summer love
I grow roses to believe
that life has purpose
and time has no end
and love defies boundaries.
I grow roses to understand
that beauty and pain coexist
and life is about cycles
and simple things have great value.
(Linking up with Eugi’s Causerie, prompt: blush. Image from personal collection.)
Dare I confess
the hollowness
of my heart
How emptiness
echoes in its chambers
How lost I feel inside
This is no sanctity
no secure refuge
my withdrawal is a sham
I stand by, observe –
circles entwine, embrace –
recognize the power of love
Practice the words
extend warmth
and retreat, before
connection ignites
convinced as I am
that the vacancy is merited.
(Image from personal collection.)
Can’t take responsibility
for what gets laundered here
my vehicle has no steering wheel
I am merely seeking understanding –
comfort, like support shoes –
and I get flack, indifference
slapping me in the face.
Why did I put myself in this position –
revert back to old ways, think
I was destined for anything
but penniless devotion –
should have been a nun.
(Image from personal collection.)
My faith is goat steady –
surefooted in rocky times –
I keep her within sight,
safely separated.
Store her with potential –
mountain lion persistent –
set them on the other side
of vision – lock myself away.
It’s the tigress in my heart
that unsettles me the most –
certain by her pacing
that she’ll consume me
Tremble at the demands –
self being called to embrace
something higher, deeper –
an assertion of essence.
( “Contemplating Emergence” is the name of the art, that like the poem, found its origins in my dreams.)
Fragile, this existence –
landings temporaneous,
change commanding
continuation, journey
perpetual – moments
alone offer fulfillment –
treasure each precious one.
(Christmas and a cold have worn me down, so I am withdrawing to rest. I do have a few scheduled posts, and will check in from time to time. Wishing you all peace for the holiday season, and no doubt will be back before the New Year.)