Dear hollow heart

So, dear hollow heart, we pervade in our lie?
We skulk amongst the demons
And hide where angels fear to fly.
We talk and commit once more to just try
But the words feel so empty
As bitter, lonely tears we cry.

Was it an uphill battleground right from the start?
From the day we first met
The one still seared on my breaking heart?
For since then, concealment has become such an art
Duplicity, self-preservation
Both playing their wicked part.

And yet we both know that whatever we be
The mess we’re in might straighten out
Eventually
But for now, in the meantime, I’m out of energy
I’m floundering – drowning
And lost in your darkest sea

For who should protect you as you stand in the pouring rain
The one who rejects you?
(For you rejected her, just the same)
Who do we turn to, when there’s nobody left to blame?
We turn on each other
And go on with this vicious game…

In the meantime my hopes are held by others for now
Too precarious to hang them on
So robustly fragile a vow
And the sadness wells up as we admit that we don’t know how
We’ve arrived once again at
The impasse of the final bow.

Octpowrimo

I remember…

I remember
coming down the stairs on cold winter mornings
a steaming pot of hot chocolate on the stove
piles of toast on the table

I remember…
stepping off the bus into waist deep snow
king of the mountain on drifts looming over my head
sliding down the hill in back of the house

I remember…
coughing in the night, feverish sweats
doctoring at bedside with thick syrup and cold cloths
cherry will forever taste like menthol to me

I remember…
the other times too
anger and sadness-part of every life
some more than others

octpowrimo

Stolen Time

 I haven’t been able to keep up with octpowrimo but the great thing is the low stress of the whole event. The prompt for this particular poem is a perfect illustration of  this, to basically revisit another prompt. Not reinventing the wheel is perfect for me tonight.                                                                        

被盗时间
Stolen Time

Preparing for you to leave
we tried to reclaim time spent on the cliché of living a normal life.
Pretending we could go on forever
like some long married couple
who would separate
when death deemed it fit to pilfer one of our ancient spirits.

We embraced the fantasy of growing old
 without the influence of illness, or foreign wars.
In our world the need to follow in your father’s righteous footsteps
would never rear its noble head.
 
Death would wait. 
Until word came from the East.
Brothers-the only survivors.
One living in exile
The other a six year old child 
protected by his mother’s loving care for over forty two years.
He didn’t understand what we knew all along.
He had a right to believe life would never change.
We had no such luxury
we attempted to steal it—thieves of denial.
We wouldn’t survive without it,
facing day after day
under the weight of the sword
balanced just above our necks.  Z~

Once Upon A Rocking Horse

Once upon a rocking-horse
A fairytale run wild
The plotlines got mixed up
For the King and Queen’s one child

Their second child, she didn’t fix
The story back to rights
The King became a dragon
And he ate up all the knights

The firstchild tried to battle on
The second went to bed
The Queen began to fade
As the King so heavily tread

Upon her hopes and fantasies;
Her once beloved dreams
Now lay in tatters, ripped apart
By life’s e’er cruelful schemes

She mustered up and carried on
Her kids began to suffer
The Dragon rampaged on and on
His tactics turning rougher

Yet ne’er enough to warrant
Any kind of intervention
The Queen and childers thought it merely
‘Normal, under tension’

The King built up a wall of thorns
To keep out friends and family
Alone, alone to carry on
Reacting oh-so-violently

For when they came, those blessed few
Would gain a nasty scratch –
A warning ‘Please just stay away:
You’ve truly met your match’

The three were left in company
With that old Dragon so rotten
Who stomped so eagerly on their souls
And selves; their dreams forgotten

Eventually the worn-down three
Escaped the mean old Dragon
And yet the old ways carried on
Their hearts could not yet gladden

The years went by and it transpired
The reason they were broken
They carried each within their soul
A tiny Dragon-y token

The Dragon-poison tainted all
Each thought and feel, like potion
Designed only to undermine;
To pour in bad emotion

But now with that identified
Our dear, intrepid Three
Began to claw their way back from
The pit of misery

The things they had internalised
From being told each day were
“Burden. Unworth. Ugly. Foul.
Vile. Unwanted. Failure.”

But gradually the rocking horse stopped
The floor once more ‘came firm
The grown-up children found that they
Had child-things to learn…

That play’s okay and laughter too,
And love is sometimes safe(ish)
And so they set to re-learn life
To see what they’d accomplish.

They met with varying success
For none were fully healed
But gradually they broke the power
The Dragon used to wield

Their work is still in progress
Their stories not yet finished
Gradually they’re learning to
Enjoy life, undiminished.

Octpowrimo: Days 18 and 19

octpowrimo

The prompt for day 18 is one of my favorites… “write a bad poem,” (not a huge stretch)

Petunia

Roses are red
Violets are blue
This poem stinks
And so do… well, it really stinks…let’s just leave it at that.

19: Today’s challenge is to get back to our rhyming roots…

I seem to like limericks best… go figure… hee!

Cleaning House

I once had a table of wood
It could sit twelve folks pretty good
I would dump all my stuff
There was never enough
room to have lunch as we should

 

 

I cleaned off my table last week…. BEFORE
AFTER

IT’S A TWO-FER!!!!! Octpowrimo: Days 16 & 17

octpowrimo

17:

This is a repost… running a bit late, sorry if you’ve already read it….
It was an entry to a contest that for some reason was never judged. So I guess I didn’t win and still own the rights to it! Ha!
The contest was to write a poem for an art project that was focused on the protectors of the Earth.

Protectors of the Earth

Spirits, shaman, goddess, healers
The defenders of the Mother,
Guard the elemental lives of all her children.


The fauna and the trees
Harmonize with the Keeper of the Song.
Cave Dancers pirouette through the mountains.


The essence of life

Gives rise to the conscious soul,

Under the watchful eye of the Guardians.


The antlered Forest Dweller 

Takes a chance exposing her heart

Her soul made transparent and open to life.


The children of oceans and rivers,

Bear the patiently worn stones of time

Deep within their embrace.


As the night planet begins its long decline past the horizon,

The Moonshiner tucks her light away for safe keeping.

The Animal Charmer sings her nocturnal wards to sleep.


While the Dawn arrives on butterfly wings,

The Diviner meditates with a loving mind

On what this day could bring.


The potential of each new day,

Greeted by the Champions of Mother Earth-

Her tribal spirit bourn upon the souls of all living things.  z~



16:

The prompt is “things unsaid…” I have a bit of a thank you that has been said several times and ways but never best said…until now.

Photo

Two

We lack affiliation
We share a common bond


We don’t have mutual ancestry

You are my brother
 
With your brother gone

you eschewed a vow
so that you might take me into your heart

Thank you.

Let it be unsaid

There’s something that I sometimes think I might try to say
When the conversation turns towards the right kind of sway
But I write around in circles, never say what I mean
Cause the fear of those words ever really being seen
It’s nothing freaked, I promise, just a deep admiration
For someone I esteem beyond imagination
Yet whenever I try to say it my heart screams out for protection
Scared beyond belief of facing up to rejection
And so it goes unsaid, and yet between those lines
Of what is said and not, there is emotion to find
L is for the way I really now need to leave
O is for ‘Oh dear a lot’ I cannot believe that
V is very close to saying the thing I intend
E is for imminently, unspoke, the end.
Why can’t I convey such a simple sentiment?
Oh it’s a mess and a thing to lament
You kinda sorta ‘get’ me and the thing I don’t say
Reckon I’ll just leave it there now – ‘kay?