culture · poetry · writing

Duplicity

Evil dons a political mask,
puppetry performed
with carefully construed phrases,
public favour swayed…
and as a final ruse
deploys duplicitous vestments
declaring divinity onboard.

(For Willow Poetry’s What Do You See? challenge: image as prompt.)

blogging · creativity · life · poetry · Uncategorized

Herding Cats

One a Tom –
night prowler,
elusive schemer –
renders me sleepless.

Another, pampered,
a diva demanding,
high anxiety to boot –
makes me crazy.

Third, a trickster,
stays out of sight
and then springs –
keeps me on my toes.

This raising children,
like herding cats –
next to impossible,
and I’m allergic.

(A light-hearted poem in response to Willow Poetry’s What Do You See? Challenge:  featured image.)

 

creativity · poetry · writing

Questioning Questions

Does the caterpillar question,
eek out the significance of each
puzzling piece, self-impose standards,
before submitting to transformation?

Why then, must I tear at each segment,
consume myself with riddles,
delete pieces of the whole,
in order to fit a mould?

Am I not just part of some divine
journey, tied to a destiny in which
I, too shall find the metaphorical wings
to soar – and why, then, should I question?

(Written for Willow Poetry’s Challenge:  What Do You See?  Featured image is the prompt.)

aging · creativity · life · poetry · writing

Dance of Redundancy

Re-
dun-

dant,
these
rituals
by which 
I define myself –
find purpose, validate
my being – I create herculean
tasks, ignore God’s role, the cycles
of nature; script myself responsibility –
a dramatic starring role with no applause,
and in the end, when light has given over to dark
and this body has failed me, will objectivity set me free
or shall I return to do it all again…a hypnotic spiral dance?

(Inspired by Willow Poetry’s Challenge:  What Do You See?  Featured image is the prompt.)

creativity · culture · poetry · travel · women's issues · writing

Black Madonna, Revisited

Remember that Autumn,
we drove up to Campbell River,
like teenagers, skipping out of class –
a cackle of women, spiritually forming?

Felt as if we had bided our time, willing
this union to occur – high on anticipation,
giddy that our routine femininity had
been strewn across the barricades
of our socially contrived existence.

We were like lesbian lovers, unafraid
to explore our crevices, our souls
hungering for release…

We were researchers, reinventing masks
adopted in formative years, stretching
our capacity to believe…

awakened by the crones amongst us,
sisters united, standing in the the flood
of our collective herstory, shedding
the padding of our religious upbringing,
teetering on the brink of a lost divinity.

Weavers, once paralyzed by the guck
of patriarchal dictates, fear of ascension
retreating, we broke free, immersed in
Goddess splendour, felt the ecstasy
of true abandonment, were wild women
unrestrained, catalysts for change.

How is it that the passion faded so abruptly –
that motherhood and responsibility, and
the rigours of competing in daily life stripped
away the afterglow, smacked me back into
this rigid self-definition, prayerful, thankful,
yet lacking the empowerment of the island?

Have I stored her somewhere; is there even
a space within me capable of housing such
expansiveness, open to wading once again
in the waters of a lunar deity, wiling to sacrifice
superficiality for the compassionate mystery
of the Black Madonna haunting my memory?

( Black Madonna first appeared here in November of 2016.  I resubmit her (slighting edited) in response to Willow Poetry’s image prompt (featured):  What Do You See?)

creativity · poetry · spirituality · writing

Mystery Beckons

How often I’ve reconstructed that wall,
and still it crumbles, the universe
and ever-reaching temptation,
her tentacles tearing at the fabric
of this constraint –

I am losing the battle,
have little left of value
in this black and white world –
conformity does not suit
my disposition –

Unwieldy as I am, I will climb
that ladder, follow the uncoventional,
delve once more into the mystery.

(Written for Hélène Vaillant’s What Do You See? challenge.  Featured image is the prompt.)