This I Know

Eventuality
of gravity
is bona fide
Flesh is not iron

Minds, however,
can strengthen, if
nurtured with
open compassion

Spirits plummet
and revive, buoyant
as the grace that
serves them.

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

Brain on Fire

My mind is ablaze –
ideas churning
vying for recognition –

greed is ego’s bane
hogs the spotlight
but other thoughts stir

gentler, more insightful –
will remain in shadow
till a quorum empowers
artful expression.

(This poem is from Twitter @Vjknutson.  I’m linking it up with Reena’s Exploration challenge which is the featured image.  Photo credit:  Daniel Salmieri.)

Mind Games

What harbinger is this
and why am I not convinced?

Cynicism wants concretes,
feeds complaints,
exaggerates,
retreats

Need to confront
this wall-building,
fight to retain
Spirit’s message –
deescalate fear’s grip.

(For Reena’s Exploration challenge#119.  Image from personal collection.)

 

Filters

Age
masks the depth
and breadth of ability –
houses more than anticipated
room for expansion, however;
current state of disrepair –
walls buckling, wiring faulty,
and security systems failing –
compromises output.

Old
holds a certain charm,
character well-earned,
but it would be useful
to install a mechanism
for locking out the past –
perhaps the future too –
eliciting and validating
the fullness of present.

Tongue Tied

Two-tongued –
speaking both heart and mind –
complex languages, whose nuances
I’ve never quite mastered, yet
am conversant in.

It’s a constant learning
to nail enunciation –
linguistics a tiresome topic

the mind,
a guttural language,
leans to equation and absolutes –
hard consonants and long vowels;

while heart-speak rolls
off the tongue in softer,
cooing syllables –
elongated tones and
whimsical passages.

I’d happily demonstrate
the extent of my proficiency
but the two-tongues,
are currently contradictory,
the clamour of their discord
drowning out the peace
requisite for translation.

Malevolent

Sensing foulness of mood
they slither out from dark places –
whirling wisps of putrid insinuation

Clever they are, and almost imperceptible
but I am clever also, have succumbed
one too many times to the deceit

will not be played by the mutterings
prodding me to find fault with others
to claim myself unjustly wronged.

With the force of a mountain
I stand fast, repel the daemons,
command uncompromising clarity.

Hissing with disappointment,
the spineless creatures retreat,
disappear to plot their next attack.

(Tonight’s prompt at dVerse comes from Jilly who challenges us to write about the unseen.  I am also including this post in Ragtag Community’s challenge: play.)