The waters of my soul
are still tonight
the harshness of day’s
light, easing now
into quiet solitude.
I surrender to renewal
knowing that no matter
what tomorrow brings
I have peace within
to guide me.
(Submitted for Eugi’s Causerie weekly prompt: renewal. Image my own. Peace Within first appeared here June, 2018.)
It was birdsong
stopped me in my tracks
distracted as I was
by pandemics
and ceaseless worry
I looked up
I looked up
and there was glory
white blossoms
triangulated
against endless
blue sky
Blue sky
like a messenger from afar
lifting my spirits
stirring longing
It was birdsong
stopped me in my tracks
I looked up and understood.
(This poem, inspired by the photo I took on a recent walk, was written for Reena’s Exploration Challenge. I borrowed the line “messenger from afar”. Image mine)
Rehearse my role –
charm-school warmth
intellect engaged,
an air of mystique –
Tongue trips
brain backfires
a fool emerges
chagrinned again.
(Tuesday I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. In this case, edited. Image my own.)
Green eyes captivate,
he whispers, warm hand
resting on youthful thigh
Stomach somersaults
reviled by whiskey breath
yellowed fingers clutching
Not these eyes! I stand
tossing my drink in his face;
coming of age moment.
In every moment
my life is a palindrome –
same backwards as forwards,
from cellar to attic and back –
searching for a centre point
so I can reset the track.
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
Cynical of authority –
a dubious task force –
Democracy’s fairytale
under siege
Stalking wealth
expending the vulnerable
This class of clowns
is COVID revealed.
(Image mine.)
Death invites me to dance
extends crooked hand
for crooked hand
takes the gentlemen’s lead
I know his moves –
have watched a time or two
even partnered a few
long, slow waltzes
But I prefer to tango
like the spice and thrill
of life’s lively step
bid him, politely, to move on.
(For Reena’s Exploration challenge: Antidotes to Fear of Death. Also linking up to Eugi’s Causerie Weekly prompt: dancing. Image my own)
Married addiction
adopted denial
settled for basics
Espoused spirituality
ignored infidelity,
pulled down the blinds.
Believed compassion
could compensate
for indifference.
Limited my outlook
to windows, too insecure
to de-smudge the pane.
Missed the gaping doorways,
the blatant rudeness
of belligerent disrespect
Till withdrawal prompted
accountability, commanded
ownership, changed the lock.
(Image from personal collection.)
I am sculptor,
shapeshifter –
carve persona
from cold rock –
a master illusionist
elude sharp corners
molded in mist –
pray reputation
does not pursue me.
I trace the fibre
of each of your lies,
note the intricacy
of their overlapping –
marvel at the depths
of your scheming,
still suffering aftershock
of deception’s braid.
(Tuesdays I borrow from my Twitter poetry. Visit me @Vjknutson. Image from personal collection.)
One Woman's Quest 