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.)
Tag: poetry
Coming of Age
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.
Stuck in a Rut
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.)
Lacking Authority
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.)
I’ll Sit This One Out
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)
Window Cleaning
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.)
Contrived
I am sculptor,
shapeshifter –
carve persona
from cold rock –
a master illusionist
elude sharp corners
molded in mist –
pray reputation
does not pursue me.
Woven Deceit
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.)
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.)
