Words seduce –
I respond
with alacrity
Tingling fire
infatuated
as I am –
Creativity’s whore.
(Tuesday’s Twitter day. Visit me @Vjknutson. Image from personal collection.)
Words seduce –
I respond
with alacrity
Tingling fire
infatuated
as I am –
Creativity’s whore.
(Tuesday’s Twitter day. Visit me @Vjknutson. Image from personal collection.)
Odd, this gift of solitude. Perched canal side, I affirm my connection to the earth, and offer thanks. Late afternoon sun casts a glow on the foliage across the way, lighting up the mirror-still water. Vibrant reflections.
Two winters ago, I fought to breathe as temperatures fell below zero. Impassible walkways trapped me indoors. Depression fought for possession. Hope struggles in imposed isolation.
“There are no absolutes in life,” a professor once told me, and I think of that now –
how just when it feels as if one sentence has been handed down, sealed, an opening appears. I am fortunate, savour the moment.
Heron’s watchful stride
invites reflection, respect –
Winter’s solitude.
(Rapture first appeared here February 2019. I offer an edited version here.
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.
Sold my soul for union –
destruction built-in
Narcissism is a bastard
luxuriates in self-catering
Did not anticipate loss –
innocence slaughtered
Force to grow sensibility
don a tough shell –
Would not let betrayal
call me by name.
It was not meandering
that shredded my heart
but the loss of a child
caught in the crossfire
too young to discern
parental alienation.
(Image from personal collection.)
Euphoric, I wrap myself
in the silent aftermath
Love’s vibration
still aglow
push aside
the fear
the effort
it took
to get here
bask in the moment,
glorious –
tomorrow, I’ll cry.
(Tuesday, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Linking up with Eugi’s Causerie, whose weekly prompt is glorious. Image from personal collection.)
Disability covets isolation –
this stripped-back, box-like state.
Rustic serenity, with room
to breathe would be preferable
but old memories creep in, and
lack of self-worth leaves the door open
phantoms of former torments
unwanted visitors, shadowy
invaders target loneliness,
misconstrue lack of health
for neediness, prey on weak –
hearted, presume incapability.
I am unwell, not unwanted, effort
to protest ignored, I grow wary of
fellow travellers, am vandalized by
nightly attacks, attempt to reach out
aim for strength, logic, clarity,
dial-up past abuse instead, cannot
fathom the purpose of unsolicited
persecution, grasping at isolation.
(Isolation’s Hold was first written in June of 2017. I am resubmitting it here for Reena’s Exploration challenge: isolation. Seems to me is also reflective of the times. Image from personal collection.)
Centred, I project merit
directed by routines
grief securely stored
Anxiety, not so compartmentalized
reveals that I am outsider, pliable,
pursues a validating response.
Perfectionism despises vulnerability
balance embraces contradictions
complexity overwhelms – I breath.
(Image from personal collection.)
Cardinal sings me awake
promises a verdant day
viburnum scented breezes
and the sun’s warming light.
(Tuesdays, I borrow a poem from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image from personal collection. Linking this up with my weekly challenge, which is morning. Also linking up with Eugi’s Causerie prompt of the week: song.)
Wore green shoes –
a shock of colour
to highlight business –
attire aimed to succeed.
Walked ten blocks
rode fourteen floors
passed security,
heels continually clicking.
Navigating male-dominated
passages, I was driven
ignored patronizing comments
exercised for corporate ladder
But the lies, the betrayal,
the dirty little secrets,
they taunted me –
sold me out in back rooms
Broke under pressure
vile accusations, improper
propositions – How did
gender equate with progress
How did firmness of pert
breasts, the flash of muscled
calves, exempt me from rising –
Why should my efforts fall short
By refusals to drop my panties
and who could I go to –
boss and boss’s boss
all male, in on the plots
Big business banking –
financially fruitful
personally demoralizing –
I walked away, morals intact.
(For Reena’s Exploration Challenge:featured image.  Sexual harassment was rampant during the 70’s and 80’s.  Although we have known progress, the struggle for equality continues.)
Project importance on institutions
confused about what is legitimate
You see, I am worn out,
stunned by reality.
Officials promote chaos
critical thinking a stretch
Anyway, I’m anxious,
almost off the rails.
How do I pull back the strings
that control these emotions
disconnect from the idiocy
allow clarity to guide choices?
(Image from personal collection.)