Tag: poetry

Underestimated

Novice, a word that negates
experience, knowledge, merit –
capability under suspicion.

I novice myself frequently,
as if vulnerability is a sideline
and humility commands denigration.

A tired and weary state –
yes, this is me, new and willing
to learn, but I am not novice.

So before you judge, adjust
your professional spectacles,
snub my potential, hear this:

Value is immeasurable –
unique contributions
enhance collective offerings.

(Reena’s Exploration challenge this week is based on “The Story of An Hour” which challenges us to examine our life and limitations.  I dream over and over again that I have returned to teaching only to find that the years I have put in have been negated by my absence and I have to begin again.  Starting over is not a new theme in my life, but my attitude about is finally changing, as represented in the poem.  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.)

It Is In the Darkest Hour…

In darkness, eyes open
search for light –
touch fear
find faith

In darkness, I stumble
lose my way,
stop, pray,
listen anew

In darkness, vulnerability
strength emerges
priorities engage
soul mends.

(For Reena’s Exploration challenge – prompt is title of this piece; and Ragtag Community’s – mend.  Image from personal collection.)

 

Together a Tapestry – V.J. Knutson — FREE VERSE REVOLUTION

Across the miles, our words convene, threads of our lives intertwining to form a tapestry. Stories of sorrow and kindness, humanity restored – of observation and empathy of inspiration through resonance of brilliance and artistry. Each thread as colourful as another, delicately added, thoughtful musings. Of generations and legacies, misunderstandings contributing to […]

via Together a Tapestry – V.J. Knutson — FREE VERSE REVOLUTION

Distorted Lenses

My memory of you –
distorted by childish exuberance –
distant and disinterested

Translated vacant eyes
through the lens of my needs
child that I was.

Failed to notice
the aura of defeat,
the battered heart

the robotic responses
masking unbelievable sorrow
missed it all

till death knocked
and I saw you anew –
adult lenses now fully secured.

wonder at the fortitude
that kept you upright,
the love that served us both.

No fault here –
on either side –
just a bittersweet understanding.

(Life, in retrospect, offers new revelations.  Poem inspired by Reena’s Exploration challenge – image as prompt.)

Spirit Stands Strong

Progress – seldom linear –
tosses me into unexpected decline –
stranded and incapacitated.

My son – with labour-hardened strength
leaps to my side, steadying me
and I feel the fear in his caring grip.

My daughter, ever compassionate,
reaches out for me with horror-filled eyes
as my body crumples onto the bed.

My husband, my oak, seeks to comfort
his voice betraying the helplessness
this futile predicament imposes.

Beloveds, I know that you see me
this dis-abled, non-functioning shell
weakened and sickly, lying on this bed.

Do not be deceived – that is not me –
it is only an illusion –
a vessel – temporarily fettered.

I am, in essence, beside you –
ambitions and desires intact.
Feel me there, tall and proud.

Sense the wholeness of my being
remember me for the woman I am yet to be –
My spirit stands strong.

(I first wrote this poem in August of 2015, when efforts to sit up and visit with friends caused a collapse.  I wrote it as reassurance for my family that the woman they knew was still strong.  I post here now as a reminder to myself – of how far I have come, and how strong my spirit remains.)