Tag: Weekend Writing Prompt

Forgo the Mask

Discontentment –
that restless inability
to surrender to distraction –
not easily masked

Wired, I am, for intrigue –
a dramatic actor displaying
mystery, baiting an audience

Denial dons noise-cancelling
headphones, blinders –
invested in illusions

Harmony the end-goal –
no point disguising,
discontentment ignored.

(Written for Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Challenge – mask, in 45 words, and Fandango’s –intrigue  -, and Ragtag Community’s – harmony .)

Advertisement

After The Party

99 emails await attention
brain, like legs, plastic –

To do’s flood consciousness,
constrict breathing –

The sun, reacting to yesterday’s
intensity, has stayed away –
a co-conspirator in misery

I wait for illumination –
clear direction on how
to begin, motivation
to follow

Dampness seeps in –
a body-snatcher –
I must move

Emptied wine glasses
linger on countertop –
remnants of celebration

I turn the faucet to hot
immerse glass and flesh,
will progress.

(Written for Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing prompt: illumination in 73 words.  Also linking up to Fandango’s flood, and Ragtag Community’s plastic.  Image from personal collection.)

No Race Today

Left leg
on strike,
brain
disengaged,
energy
scrounging
for re-charge
coming up empty

Body
derelict –
this illness
sensual agony –
forgive
my silences,
any absences

Spirit
like a racehorse
strains against
the reins
too taut,
hungry
to feel
the wind
in its stride,
breath
freedom.

Gate is closed.

(The challenge of living with chronic illness is to maintain balance.  There is a disconnect between what the body is capable of and what the spirit aspires to accomplish.  Today, body wins.  Thank you to Sammi Cox for the Weekend Writing Prompt: derelict; to Fandango for sensual; and to Daily Addictions for agony – all words that help convey this experience.)

Love Talk

It’s like cycling uphill
in three lanes of traffic
in a snowstorm

trying to communicate with you

I keep peddling –
sending signals –

but you’re like the SUV
spraying slush in your wake

hindering  progress,
ignoring my needs…

Aren’t we soulmates –
in tune, hearts beating as one –
words superfluous between us?

Then why am I about to expire
and you’re just revving up?

No telepathy at work here.

Empathy lacking, too.

(Sammi Cox’s weekend challenge is telepathy in 72 words)

Losing Direction

Certain, are we,
of the direction chosen,
authoritative in our drive…

yet, impulsivity rides along
and our assets are but plastic,

and these dreams of ours
are they even realistic?

Oh how adversity casts aspersions;
how easily plans crumble

focus deteriorates, threatens
to abandon, desire takes a back seat
to the dictates of old agendas…

we revert, wait for endings –
certain closure will refuel purpose…

and fret: is resolution even possible?
and is it necessary

or can we reload,
set course anew,

let faith keep us afloat?

(Inspired by a dream and written for Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing prompt #63: crumble, which challenges us to write a composition in 88 words.)

Speak No Evil

Suspect
these sentiments,
gnarled and ungrateful,
only serve to tip the scale
in favour of cynicism

have, therefore,
decided on self-
imposed quarantine;
will be keeping thoughts
to myself, thank you.

Suffice to say
that having confronted
multiple betrayals,
and insurmountable
heartache, all pointing

vile accusations
at a lack of discernment,
and questionable self-worth,
I am currently not imbibing
romantic dribble –

Oh, dear! I’ve said too much.

(Inspired by the daily promptings of: Fandango (suspect), Ragtag Community (scale), Daily Addictions (intimidate), and Sammi Cox’ Weekend Writing Prompt (quarantine).

Image produced by yours truly.)