Grateful for the wilder times,
days when daring ruled –
amassed fodder for stories,
harmless antics eliciting
laughter – ever more sweet
as body fails, nothing left
but to reminisce.
(Twitter Tales. Â Visit me @Vjknutson.)
Tag: life
Surreal, This Life
Sunday morning runners
pass by bay window,
oozing life, while I strain
to catch a glimpse, movement
tenuous – irony of life
rendered surreal
by chronic illness.
(Twitter Tuesday. Â For more Twitter poems find me @Vjknuton.)
Failing
Educated in curriculums
qualified to lesson plan
and structure evaluations
far reach from current course –
platform inaccessible, only student
self – a disagreeable sort
take my grievances higher –
no response, boss is asleep
indifference snoring.
Life’s Promise
If only I could bloom a rhapsody,
gentles river song for sound…
will remember your promise –
respect another soul,
honour their life,
that between each beat
emotion felt, true music,
innocent but strong
thanking your lift,
favouring the gift –
seek its fill.
(Fridays are magnetic poetry. Â Play online. Featured image from personal collection. Â Design available on Redbubble, KnutsonKr8tions.)
On the Lake
Contrasts
Contrasts, life presents –
focus on the light,
I tell myself,
eyes wandering to dark corners
been up against too many brick walls
to harbour simplicity in faith,
besides, darkness holds the light
we inevitably all follow.
(Image from personal collection.)
Or Not..
Mindlessly,
veer off route –
inadvertently parked.
No backing up,
passage ahead restrictive –
perseverance called for.
Overcome, I will,
plead ignorance –
pay attention next time.
Junkyard
Vestiges of dreams
swiftly disappear, shift lanes –
ambition rusted.
(For RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Challenge: fast & lane)
Spark
Body falters,
mind the same,
but spirit dances,
lithe as a flame.
Dance of Redundancy
Re-
dun-
dant,
these
rituals
by whichÂ
I define myself –
find purpose, validate
my being – I create herculean
tasks, ignore God’s role, the cycles
of nature; script myself responsibility –
a dramatic starring role with no applause,
and in the end, when light has given over to dark
and this body has failed me, will objectivity set me free
or shall I return to do it all again…a hypnotic spiral dance?
(Inspired by Willow Poetry’s Challenge: Â What Do You See? Â Featured image is the prompt.)
One Woman's Quest 