The heart doth soar free
transcending all divisions
love’s flavours beckon
The heart doth soar free
boundaries provide breakthrough
fervour replenishes
transcends all divides
imbues dreams in vacant eyes
revives hope anew
love’s flavours beckon
joy; hesitant visitor
stamina restored
Written for Eugi’s moonwashed weekly challenge. Joining Jim’s Thursday Inspiration, Fandango’s FOWC and Ragtag’s this week’s prompts.
This troiku is inspired be Li, who writes fabulous troiku.
Finally the darkness descended
but was pallid from tension
hidden in its sheer bosom
a column of secrets lay
quietly. Wilily waiting
for the dramatic moment
to spill animus.
the orange dawn sighed wearily
as it cleared the debris
of the quarrelsome night.
Written for David’s W3 for AJ’s prompt and for the moon washed weekly challenge.
I try to read the clouds
the angry, roiling, dark ones
obscuring the opalescence of the skies
no answer forthcoming!
my fossilized pain spills over
dangling over the edge
aghast and immobilised I watch
as it coalesces and drops in a puddle.
purged but now a hollow, scorched husk
I dither, unprepared to face the empty chaos
then rain starts to fall gently
the crevices slowly begin to fill.
Written for Sadje’s wdys and Eugi’s weekly prompt.
Chauvinism’s foot pressed firmly on the reverse gear
the cycle of life hurtles at break-neck speed
back into the dark ages of yore
crushing progress in one fell swoop
Men! Strut your stuff
pick up the arms
go on a rampage
hunt down dissenters
as well as naysayers
brook no argument
cock that snook
bam! wham!
the sham of civility shattered gleefully
justice will be served
by the barrel of the gun!
Women! Cross your legs and press your knees together
you are being recast
as damsels to be disrobed
and used as a product
your body no longer yours
your life worse than chattel
barefoot with swelling belly; that’s your destiny.
Rights! What rights!
might is right
and how can the right be wrong
bring forth in this world
the unwanted
raise an army of abandoned, misfit kids
then give them the licence to hunt and gather.
Rejoice! Patriarchy rules again
we are in the war zone
fodder for the frontline
should be churned without shame
the darkness of heart
envelopes the world
maniacs are in charge
life is cherished
the living be damned!
The grainy texture of hazy memories
evokes myriad long forgotten tastes
some ambrosial, some miasmic
some that leave me pasty faced.
suspended in the half light of living
an unnamed bird flutters haplessly
singing no song of eternal hope
yet it can’t stop whirring its wings endlessly.
tonight the moon’s forehead is lined with worries
the fragrant skies will smolder throughout the night
heaving under the haze of monochromatic thoughts
the sun’s endeavour to slight the moon may never come to light.
time fades bit by bit bleeding every second
hunger throbs voraciously in my aching bones
tears gather drop by drop in the hollow of my neck
I brace myself for the colossal shadows of unknowns.
Sharing with dVerse OLN.
Dewdrop fall on the paper in rhymes
a shower of feelings from moon-addled mind
interlacing agonies and joys sublime.
words are bridges connecting many a heart
the poem’s room lit with love’s glittering shards
the fingers clicking music; stop and start
the sun burns fiercely in the poet’s empty gut
speaking in a tongue no long sequestered
misty eyes read words not stuck in a rut
glowworm ideas shine with all their might
from dusk to dawn they twinkle bright
inspiration lies in the cobalt skies of starry nights
Butterflies releasing stories everywhere
prismatic rainbow glitters with flair
verses spun from gloom bloom sans despair.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers whether you celebrate today or not! Mere tokenism it may seem to many, but enjoy the pampering that comes with it. Some moms may not have been ideal, let’s break the mould then as mothers. And as for the moms who may no longer be amidst us, they have a permanent residence in our hearts.
Journeying in a linear line
her life was wholesome and carefree
unhampered by the hard edges of living
embraced with passionate gusto.
Before her plane intersected with that of other people
she was just another pebble on the beach;
shorn of rhetoric, steeped in reality
skipping under the shady trees.
She could not run parallel with expectations
the geometry of life required fresh perspective
armed with nothing but her skills
she tried to hush the rising panic.
Feeling boxed and suffocated by toxic relationships
(beguiled though she was by them once)
she realised, ever changing dimensions of existing
needed to be tackled with enhanced tools every day.
https://lifeafter50forwomen.com/2022/03/07/what-do-you-see-124-march-7th-2022/
Is existence a bluff figment,
an illusionary vision?
Stillness a quietus pigment
Making all frayed fringes glisten.
Tranquillity has no remnant
The vast swathes of cacophony
(No harmony, no symphony)
Envelope in clamourous waves
All cryptic nuances escape
Blame the inner disharmony!
This is an Espinela, inspired by The Mouse.
Tired of the congeries of compromise
night pauses haltingly
to collapse within itself
the miracle of solitude
no longer thrills her
sceptic memories lie frozen
in the limbo between shadows and reality
gathering its tattered skirt
lined with despair
she makes way for another day
fresh faced, happy draped in an amber glow
he arrives on the wings of a birdsong
but the rigmarole of humdrum routine
leaves grey smudges under his eyes
needless to say he
realises too late he is just
like a suggestion of the previous day.
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