Father taught us to fetch –
What else are children for?
I did not like his demeaning sneer
nor the way he lorded control
Mother learned to ask how high
when he snapped: “Jump!”
I vowed to be different
to never let him break me
But his arms were stronger
and my fear real, and so
From my father, I’ve learned to fetch –
Anything else I can get you, Dear?
(Ragtag’s Daily Prompt, hosted by Sgeoil is fetch. Image my own.)
Age, a rocky tor
begs attitudinal shift
more wonder
than fortitude
Cyclical, actually
wisdom allotting
childish valour
a dash of mellow.
(For RDP’s prompt: mellow. Image my own.)
I’m gnawing on possibility
the suggestion that my dabbling
could amount to something
What? my gut protests
reminds me of limitations
physical constraints
But I’ve had room to breathe
and resources at hand
and creativity, expansive
dwells in possibility
nibbles at suggestions
mind scrabbles to find
excuses – laundry,
a drawer that needs sorting
but the door has opened
and I’m seeing a path
a way through the noise
a sliver of light beckoning.
(For Ragtag’s daily prompt: gnaw. Image my own.)
Purpose –
much coveted
despair-driven –
has returned.
Energy –
motivation
to proceed –
building
Willingness –
once vibrant
now constrained –
resists.
Chasms –
loss created
unparalleled –
require bridges.
Purpose –
discovery born
enthusiastic –
persists.
(Resilience first appeared here in October, 2018. I submit a slightly revised edition here for Ragtag Community’s daily prompt: resilience.)
My house is in order!
I shout to a cosmos
intent on ignoring my pleas
chthonic forces insist
on invading dreams
psychic locks ineffectual
no barriers to protect
when soul mocks
purported equilibrium
Order, spirit answers,
is a temporal concept;
continue to grow.
(For Ragtag Community’s prompt: temporal. Image from personal collection.)
Dates soften in the pan –
I stir with preoccupation
fresh-faced excitement
motivating each step.
I measure sugar, oats,
flour, the enormity
of my heart’s capacity
to love these young ones.
Add butter, and mix,
each stroke a hug,
anticipating enjoyment
a sweet connection.
Pat and bake, timer set,
bright eyes and tiny palms
lift upwards with sparkle –
Christmas cheer upon us.
(For Ragtag Community’s prompt: mix. Image from personal collection.)
Flagrant this disregard,
this blatant indifference
I have come before you
broken and desperate
and been received with
loving compassion, openness.
“It was not I who abandoned you” –
the words still echo in my heart.
In shame, I hang head, vow
to prepare my spiritual bowl
to resurrect a prayerful practice
to know once again the light,
the life that fulfills when
self is offered up as instrument.
(Ragtag community has offered the word “flagrant” as prompt today. I have been carrying around scraps of ideas for Reena’s Exploration challenge – featured image. This poem emerged. I do not consider myself affiliated with a specific religious body, but I do consider myself a woman of deep spiritual faith.)
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.)
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.)
Oh, this symphony,
this magnetic resonance –
my brain is on fire,
a duende spiralling
mystical discovery.
(Ragtag Community’s daily prompt is duende. I am also linking up to Reena’s Exploration challenge #111, in which the linked video is the prompt. Credit to Aeon.com. Photo from personal collection.)
One Woman's Quest 