Love and life not always synonymous yet why does one always think life is love
Life a gift not promised often unfair but one can’t tell her, “go just get lost life”!
Written for David’s W3 (where the POW D Avery has asked us to write tetractys) and for Eugi’s moonwashed weekly prompt.
Wishing Merry Christmas to all those who celebrate and to the rest, a happy Sunday! My home is all topsy-turvy due to the renovation work going on. I will be unable to blog for a couple of week, so wishing you all the very best for 2023. Warm hugs to all braving storms and freakish cold weather. Stay warm, stay safe.
Someday… bathed in the forest light listening to the night song we will be closer than ever before I will lean on you, o moon! I will listen to your stories and recount mine words will be our balm so will be silence
Someday… life will be full of simple pleasures mundane routines and ordinariness of your coffee and my tea of smiles that don’t hide pain
Someday… we will learn to coexist till then life I will continue to exist.
Written for dVerse poetics. Today’s host, Mish, says : choose an image by Vika Muse that speaks to you. Let it guide you on your poetic journey wherever that may lead. Any theme, any style of poem.
Also for NaPoWriMo. Today, in honor of the potential luckiness of the number 13, the challenge is to write a poem that, like the example poem here, joyfully states that “Everything is Going to Be Amazing.” Sometimes, good fortune can seem impossibly distant, but even if you can’t drum up the enthusiasm to write yourself a riotous pep-talk, perhaps you can muse on the possibility of good things coming down the track. As they say, “the sun will come up tomorrow,” and if nothing else, this world offers us the persistent possibility of surprise.
Pain assauged through each word written therapeutic exercise I employ
Each experience enriching however broken; beautiful, life is.
Written for dVerse. Today’s host, Grace, says: write a Synchronicity poetry verse.
This poetry form is written in the first person revealing accidental yet seemingly synchronized events.
The definition of synchronicity is the state or fact of being synchronous or simultaneous; synchronism. Coincidence of events that seem to be meaningfully related.
As a poetry form, this consists of eight three-line stanzas in a syllable pattern of 8/8/2. This poetry type has no rhyme and is written in the first person with a twist. The twist is to be revealed within the last two stanzas. This form was created by Debra Gundy.
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.
1. The familiar faces, the tentative hugs smiles radiating brilliantly through masks words tumble out in a hurry trying to make up lost time perhaps I am alive again
2. Words clamour to skip on paper to showcase and receive applause I quell them forcefully sometimes ordinary conversations steal the limelight of meticulously crafted words taking centre stage surreptitiously
3. Snatches of tête a tête, whispered gossip I turn hearing my name wiping guilt from his face, he smiles I smile back he carries baggage from the past which has no place in my future
4. We know not when the next opportunity will arise ominous “you know who” is spreading tentacles I had stepped into the reality of living only to be snatched back from the brink to the unreal life of real fears.
Written for dVerse. Today’s host, Laura says: So for this prompt we are to write a Modernist/Post-Modernist Fragment poem ~by that I mean
Either: a poem of several numbered stanzas. Each being complete in itself and having only a passing relationship to each other, if at all OR a poem of disjointed images (like listening to conversation in passing, repetitively switching between radio/tv station, random images across a screen, or paintings/photos seen in a gallery)
Rules: Your poem should NOT conform to any rhyme scheme Your poem MUST include Fragment(s) somewhere in the title.
We took a road trip recently to attend the wedding of a classmate’s daughter. Meeting school friends after a gap of two years was unreal but magical.
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