Tag: poem

Travelling Solo

Chill and fog
cloud my senses –
effective distraction
loneliness holds no sway.

Others speed past,
while I advance,
slow, steady –
drawn by an unknown

Presence, who may
or may not receive me well
at this road’s end
I cannot tell.

Pray indifference
does not await me –
have suffered enough
no stomach for more.

Must stop a moment
and rest…darkness
brings its own brand
of cold… I am weary.

Tomorrow,
I’ll begin anew,
perhaps not so alone,

But loved ones
are preoccupied
others long gone

So the task remains
mine singularly
to further this journey

With faith to carry me
and a prayer for clear
passage to see me through.

(Image from personal collection.)
 

Broken Shell

Cocooned, I am
enclosed, secure
shut down

Ignore initial
stirring –
like a skipped
heartbeat

Convinced
this retreat
is cemented

Have had enough
life too harsh
soul too sensitive

and yet, there it is
again – gathering
momentum uninvited

sensations, emotions
morphing into words
commanding expression

growing wings,
battering my barriers
flocking towards light

poems emerge
and I am stripped naked
exposed once again.

(Inspired by the prompts of Ragtag Community: stir, and Reena’s Exploration Challenge who provided the featured image.)

I Am Eve

I am Eve
living with accusations
storage full

Commissioned to clear
the backlash of parked myths –
vessels in need of repair

The path is uneven
littered with stones thrown,
still I proceed, plan

Patriarchy stands by
smugly vilifying
I am the snake

Deceit my foe
control my folly
battling a lost cause

Till rebirth redefines
innocence, grabs
serpent by the tail.

(Image from personal collection.)

Ugly Duckling Learns

From Nature, instinct,
intuition – confidence
of nurture derived.

(For RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Challenge: nature/nurture.  Also linking up with BrewNSpew’s weekly challenge: folklore.  The Ugly Duckling is a fairytale from my childhood.  Image from personal collection.)

Path of Manifestation

Hunger churning,
excitement building,
heart expanding…

Breathing the thrill,
opening to possibility,
Spirit revealing…

Receiving blessings,
clarifying vision
will engaging

Trusting process
believing in self
creativity soaring

Grounding in reality
feeling the stir-
change is happening.

(Path of Manifestation first appeared November, 2017, edited for this edition.  Image from personal collection.)

Was That Really Me?

Was that really me,
signed his life away
fresh-faced, innocent
marched North
then sailed East
to unknown seas?

Fuelled by anticipation,
anchored by camaraderie,
that boy who crawled
through jungle deep
weathered Burma heat
and nightmarish infestations,
adrenaline pumping
infiltrated enemy lines
unarmed, feckless
nursed fears with booze
adopted false bravado.

Was that really me,
that man who emerged
hard-edged, battle-weary,
whose medals of bravery,
buried now, speak more
of loss, and horror
than triumph –

And who is this,
whose rage intimidates
with trigger-sharp precision,
who ravages all that is dear
ideals slaughtered,
hopes destroyed,
whose enemy
now dwells within?

(Today is Remembrance Day.  Spurred by the prompts of Reena’s Exploration Challenge – “Was that really me?”  and Ragtag Community’s “bravery“, I have tried to put myself in my father’s shoes.  He fought for the British Commandos during WWII, and in hindsight, suffered PTSD.)