Abandoned, this heart –
old walls scarred but solid
Lest you look upon me with pity,
remember – roses grow here
planted at the peak of love’s hold
vibrant despite the ensuing thorns.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson.
Image my own.)
Tag: life
Where Ignorance Leads
Quest for independence
born of familial dysfunction
led me down a path of dissent
Compromise, I believed
was toxic, swore against
the brutality of submission
Need no one,
depend on no one
have nothing to lose
Overlooked the joy
of interdependence –
an alien concept
Chose a lonely path,
a straggler destined
never to belong…
(Image my own)
Rural Roots
Plant me in the country
under city lights I melt
I need open skies
where nature thrives
I am tourmaline
un-mined
urban blight
danger beyond repair
plant me in the country
my soul is buried there.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson.
Image my own)
Yet, I Plod On
Tectonic, the force
required to move
this wall of shame
Erasable, the missives
I write to defend my worth –
pencil strokes that only mock
Unsustainable, the hope
that life should ever receive
my efforts as more than folly.
(Art my own)
Even Ghosts Yearn
Natural light preferable
to artificial – not the harsh
fullness of noonday sun
but softly filtered rays –
luxurious…
inviting
Love too, should be subdued,
gentle as a zephyr –
not mythical, but yielding…
mindful
not worshipful nor boastful
but comforting…
warm
I am waning light
the mistral wind wafting
no longer a force of nature
but smoke, spiralling
vanishing into non-existence
And yet,
even as shadows spread
I yearn – heart
beating true
not lost,
not forgotten,
but withdrawn…
humbled
passion mellowed
by years of constructing walls –
grit and tar –
scar’s long buried
save the limping gait
of a ghost.
(Even Ghosts Yearn first appeared here in July, 2018. Image my own.)
Ebb and Flow
Shore knows repetition
tides thrust, withdraw –
natural rhythm
Why then should I question
strife’s return – is it not just
tide returning my load?
Not as stalwart as the shore
misery bleeds onto page
tainting my ocean.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson.
This poem edited. Image my own.)
Contemplating Slopes
Daunting
the looming
mountainside
or the oceanside
cliffs whose ascent
mocks my limitations
Fragile,
the glint of
spidery thread,
whose expanse, though
delicate, stretches without fear
The way our income curves
downward, while
our needs
mount
Life’s slopes
precarious, demanding
inevitable, and yet we find ourselves
ill-prepared when forced to navigate them.
Dreaming Oceans
Ingrained in me
this flight
eye on the future
the periphery
closing in.
Husband urges me
forward, but where
this road leads
I do not know
Connected to self
open, escaping into
the vast expanse
becoming fluid
alive, nurtured
I have been spit out
by life so often,
taught to be taut,
it’s hard to plunge,
let go of the past
and just swim.
(Submitting for my weekly challenge: peripheral. Image my own.)
Uncertain Times
Like living in the shadow
of a volcano, each complacency
shaken by treacherous rumbles
While some seek equality
others chew on bitter lack
and who profits when
tempers succumb to
the hot lava of anarchy?
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
The Wind and I
Followed the wind –
a child without boundaries –
Experience, especially hardship
clipped those wings
Lost faith in the wind,
pushed against her flow
Till nothing was left of me
fight diminished by final blow
The wind, though, she persisted
picked up my diminished spirit
tossed me in her whimsical way
rekindled the child.
(Image my own.)
One Woman's Quest 