adversity · aging · life · poetry · writing

Lost Directions

Partnered once, with compassion –
believed in power of human touch,
dedicated self to caring, certain
I’d found my body of work

Time and circumstance intervened;
I drifted, lost in an eddy of confusion,
marital fray ending in separation –

Life moves in circular cycles, and
I revisit that work now, wonder if
parts are salvageable, viable –

fragments outdated, irrelevant –
compassion still holds merit,
what if I let it drive, put ego
in the passenger seat –

would she steer us down one-way
streets, against the flow to traffic,
rattle elusive confidence –

without trust in process, I lack
assurance of youth’s glory –
would not survive the scramble

Circular lines bypass, spiral;
we are not meant to go back;
must breathe and stop grasping.

(Lost Directions first appeared here in October 2017.  I have edited it and resubmit for my weekly challenge: compassion.)

aging · change · health · photography · poetry · spirituality · writing

Needing a Sign

Restlessness accompanies me
on the sojourn today –
unfazed by ripe red
belly of robin,
or shimmering emerald
of breeding merganser’s crown.

My lens seeks out decay –
rotting wood, darkened cavities –
as if my soul craves reassurance
that life persists even where death
hovers – I need a sign.

Discontent, I move on –
drive the river road,
snail pace – praying for
something to shake
this malaise –
birds come and go,
trees radiate Spring green,
I pause, unmoved.

And then I spot it –
across the river, high up –
a massive hulk –
lens raises, adjusts, snaps –
the regal hunter turns towards me,
regards me with ferocious intensity,
does not falter on his perch –

All-seeing, fearless,
he is spirit-manifested,
a messenger, lifting me
from stagnation –
momentary redemption.

(Linking up with my weekly challenge:  in-between.)

 

 

 

adversity · health · ME/ CFS · poetry · writing

Dare I Hope?

Hope glitters
like rays of golden
sunlight piercing
the thick overgrowth
of this life.

Dare I respond,
or is this merely
the sharp deflection
of light on tinfoil
meant to keep
scavengers away?

(Dare I Hope? first appeared three years ago, when the four walls of my bedroom and the mattress I laid upon defined my life.  I have polished it a bit here for my weekly challenge which is “anniversary”.  Looking back to those times, I am able to acknowledge progress and affirm that the hope I was feeling had validity. Featured image is from personal collection.)

blogging · creativity · nature · photography · poetry · spirituality · writing

Revelation

No sound, no movement
the bullfrog obliges lens –
I am conqueror,
superior – then espy
miniscule me in his eye.

(A tanka for Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Challenge: sound/ motion.  Image from personal collection.  I am pondering the unanswerable this week, and I think this poem fits – conjures questions about where we all fit within this universe.)

Family · LGBQT · life · memoir · poetry · relationships · women's issues · writing

A 60’s Childhood

Formative years were more destruct
than construct; contradictions riddled

the foundation of our familial structure:
one man tyrannized five females while

in the news, women marched for equality;
called the likes of him a male chauvinist.

Aunt drove a forklift truck, looked like a man,
chalked one up for women’s liberation, didn’t

talk about her sexuality; shadow of illegality
hovering around her – no one dared to ask.

At nine, I questioned the fairness of being
born a girl in a man’s world, felt impassioned

by feminist cries, yet feared my mom would
leave the nest, abandon baking, domestics;

leave us to fend for ourselves – the warm waft
of fresh-baked goods greeting us each day, gone.

Watched my sisters flaunt their womanly ways
for virile young men who flocked to see bikini

clad bodies, ripe and tanned by the sun – who
was reducing whom to sex objects? And when

my mother’s family came to visit, why were the
men’s hands so invasive, their tongues equally

misplaced, and was this what women in the streets
were crying out against? I wanted to be free, explore

my future prospects – open road ahead – but Mother
said boys will be boys, and men don’t like smart

women, and better to drop out of school at sixteen,
get a secretarial job, and be ready when your prince

arrives – so I rebelled, cut my hair, flaunted my
intelligence, spoke up about inconsistencies,

such as why is a God a He, and why Aunt didn’t
ever date – did feminist mean celibate? and why

when women were so oppressed and men had
all the power, did my father wish he could be one?

Formative years more destruct than construct;
a deviate imprint tainting normalcy’s prospects.

(A 60’s Childhood first appeared here in September, 2016.  My challenge this week is story.  Click on the link to join in.  Computer is currently in the shop – so I have set this post up in advance.  Sorry if it takes me a bit to get back to you. Image from personal collection.)

aging · change · creativity · ME/ CFS · poetry · writing

Proposal Response

Aging I am/ but not without wisdom,
and disabled / and in more ways, not –
unreliability / the state of my body
trending / creativity

Escape is proposed / from this hindering attitude
my oozing scars / soothed with tenderness
beg a stand/ that revitalizes
discover determination/ I am evolving

This slumbering/ now awakening
has become impulsive/ suggests renewal;
need discipline / new boundaries
to quiet the pain / still, I thrive

I am whiny / pay it no attention
self-mothering / not selfish
counselling bedrest/ a healthy balance
prone to coddling/ this budding creativity

need to shake off/ revitalize
this disoriented/ clearing
weakened state – / altered strength
escape is proposed / certain.

(This week’s challenge is a wild card.  The catch is to look back over recent postings and find the repetition, that becoming the prompt.  I noticed a repetition of ‘age’ and recognize a need to revisit my attitude towards this inevitability, so I decided to select an old poem which illustrates the issue and readdress it.  Left side of each line is the original poem: Proposal.  Italicized endings are the new response. Image from personal collection.)