Passion for writing ignites my soul's momentum
“War is hell. You can’t photograph a flying bullet, but you can capture genuine fear.”
The bomb has dropped
control slips from our grasp
We pray for a parachute
for someone to pull the cord
numbers escalate,
lives plummet
We offer encouragement
isolated voices faltering
moment of impact imminent
the implosion inevitable
impact reverberates
responsibility moot.
(For Reena’s Exploration Challenge: the quotation, author unknown. Image my own.)
Disability covets isolation –
this stripped-back, box-like state.
Rustic serenity, with room
to breathe would be preferable
but old memories creep in, and
lack of self-worth leaves the door open
phantoms of former torments
unwanted visitors, shadowy
invaders target loneliness,
misconstrue lack of health
for neediness, prey on weak –
hearted, presume incapability.
I am unwell, not unwanted, effort
to protest ignored, I grow wary of
fellow travellers, am vandalized by
nightly attacks, attempt to reach out
aim for strength, logic, clarity,
dial-up past abuse instead, cannot
fathom the purpose of unsolicited
persecution, grasping at isolation.
(Isolation’s Hold was first written in June of 2017. I am resubmitting it here for Reena’s Exploration challenge: isolation. Seems to me is also reflective of the times. Image from personal collection.)
Wore green shoes –
a shock of colour
to highlight business –
attire aimed to succeed.
Walked ten blocks
rode fourteen floors
passed security,
heels continually clicking.
Navigating male-dominated
passages, I was driven
ignored patronizing comments
exercised for corporate ladder
But the lies, the betrayal,
the dirty little secrets,
they taunted me –
sold me out in back rooms
Broke under pressure
vile accusations, improper
propositions – How did
gender equate with progress
How did firmness of pert
breasts, the flash of muscled
calves, exempt me from rising –
Why should my efforts fall short
By refusals to drop my panties
and who could I go to –
boss and boss’s boss
all male, in on the plots
Big business banking –
financially fruitful
personally demoralizing –
I walked away, morals intact.
(For Reena’s Exploration Challenge:featured image. Sexual harassment was rampant during the 70’s and 80’s. Although we have known progress, the struggle for equality continues.)
“…too young to notice
how fear persists, and how
the anger that causes fear persists…”
– Immortality, by Lisel Mueller
Purposeful, this fortress
permanently ungrounded
Burdened without bearing
fear underlying motivation
Reassured that life is unfair
dedicated to defying limits
Challenged by rage
bloodline ingrained
Pulled towards inevitable
complete collapse.
(Inspired by the promptings of Reena’s Exploration challenge. To see the full poem and prompt click here. Image from personal collection.)
My mind is ablaze –
ideas churning
vying for recognition –
greed is ego’s bane
hogs the spotlight
but other thoughts stir
gentler, more insightful –
will remain in shadow
till a quorum empowers
artful expression.
(This poem is from Twitter @Vjknutson. I’m linking it up with Reena’s Exploration challenge which is the featured image. Photo credit: Daniel Salmieri.)
What will be written
in the aftermath –
so much owing,
so little justification.
Upended anxiety –
regal anticipations
shattered by cancer –
yes, life is a teacher
No matter,
if we survive –
but where to go then
Earth’s riches exploited
Commitments crumbled –
confess we have Father issues
but it’s time to emerge,
step forward, take the lead
What follows contentment
battled, passive crosses borne,
paths with no clear direction,
doubt as ante?
Hubs are shattered –
we are spokes with no centre –
pray the last book written
is reconstructive.
(Inspired by a dream, and combined with the prompt from Reena’s Exploration: The Last Book on Planet Earth. Image from personal collection.)
Following political tides –
mesmerized by neglect
of actual issues – playing
to an audience of moaners
(standard consumerist
plights) – glossing over
exploitation of women,
verbal slaughter of race,
religion and social values.
Wondering about media –
who commandeer bias,
swallowing atrocities and
spewing contrived truths,
absent sound voice, or will,
jeopardizing the security
of so many trampled in
the race for what? Surely
not responsibility – what
lapse of conscience has
allowed hateful rhetoric
to bloody progress, no
consequences? Who will
bear the burden when in
the absence of morality
or respect for humanity,
the margins will increase?
The world quakes at the
failure to acknowledge
this broken path, see only
a devaluation of assets,
perceive a race that did
no more than increase
the monarchy of a king,
grant power to absolve
sins – a sleight-of-hand
trick – nothing to do with
the common habitants –
have so many questions
about how they’ll proceed.
(First penned in November of 2016, I am resubmitting this piece for Reena’s Exploration challenge#120. Image from personal collection.)
