Tag: poem

The Last Book

What will be written
in the aftermath –
so much owing,
so little justification.

Upended anxiety –
regal anticipations
shattered by cancer –
yes, life is a teacher

No matter,
if we survive –
but where to go then
Earth’s riches exploited

Commitments crumbled –
confess we have Father issues
but it’s time to emerge,
step forward, take the lead

What follows contentment
battled, passive crosses borne,
paths with no clear direction,
doubt as ante?

Hubs are shattered –
we are spokes with no centre –
pray the last book written
is reconstructive.

(Inspired by a dream, and combined with the prompt from Reena’s Exploration: The Last Book on Planet Earth.  Image from personal collection.)

Victim

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.)

The Pawn

Of course she is away
caught in the schism
of her parents’ divorce
played like a pawn

She is emotionally numb
incapable of articulating
wants and desires – broken
though no one notices.

(Poem originally appeared on Twitter.  Visit me @Vjknutson.  Image from personal collection.)

Is There An Exit Strategy?

Following political tides –
mesmerized by neglect
of actual issues – playing
to an audience of moaners
(standard consumerist
plights) – glossing over
exploitation of women,
verbal slaughter of race,
religion and social values.

Wondering about media –
who commandeer bias,
swallowing atrocities and
spewing contrived truths,
absent sound voice, or will,
jeopardizing the security
of so many trampled in
the race for what? Surely
not responsibility – what

lapse of conscience has
allowed hateful rhetoric
to bloody progress, no
consequences?  Who will
bear the burden when in
the absence of morality
or respect for humanity,
the margins will increase?

The world quakes at the
failure to acknowledge
this broken path, see only
a devaluation of assets,
perceive a race that did
no more than increase
the monarchy of a king,
grant power to absolve
sins – a sleight-of-hand
trick – nothing to do with
the common habitants –
have so many questions
about how they’ll proceed.

(First penned in November of 2016, I am resubmitting this piece for Reena’s Exploration challenge#120.  Image from personal collection.)

In Essence, Human

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.)

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.)