Maybe this poem makes me sound pathetic, but gosh all I want is a hug. I don’t live by myself but am still so isolated, especially emotionally. Thanks to Fandango for the prompt word, and I am also sharing with the Writers’ Pantry. Will post this before I change my mind.
This is for Weekly Scribblings, inspired by the playlist which Sanaa provided. This was much more difficult than it probably should have been, but I decided to write based on the song “breathin” by Ariana Grande, even though that’s not usually my type of music. I am also linking with DVerse OLN. Also, this ended up being almost a stream-of-consciousness; I was surprised where it ended up but I guess I’ll share it.
“Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent.” ― Victor Hugo
When do lungs get a break?
When do tongues reveal what’s fake
So that they no longer take
Anxiety is inside of me,
Doing anything to become free
Of this rib cage’s constraints —
For First-Line Friday today, our first line is “Do you hear the people sing?” I appreciate the allusion to the Les Misérables musical.
Do you hear the people sing,
Underneath the dreary
Miasma of these circumstances?
Do you hear us fighting
The fog of fear and depression?
Voices must rise, with music
To battle this oppression:
These are our voices, lucky
Enough to be breathing.
For this Wednesday’s Weekly Scribblings, we are writing about the idea of discipline. I’m not exactly happy with how this poem turned out, so let’s call it a rough draft. Maybe I’ll find the discipline to edit it later. 🙂
Painful in the moment
Is determined discipline:
Is it worth the perseverance
To keep going when
It seems better to quit?
The finish line — imagine
Exhilaration, crossing it!
This was inspired by Linda Kruschke’s paint-chip poetry #21. I was also partially inspired by Memorial Day, which was on Monday.
The blue irises of her eyes
Find the looking-glass, and pine
For her Beloved, praying, that
Under a field of poppies he’s not staying:
The nursery which she’s preparing
For their child waiting to be born,
Is a safe place, needs to reassure —
So her soldier’s return is worth waiting for.
I am a sunflower.
Because even when the light’s
Not shining I can find it.
Because when the dark encroaches
I can find the closest
Light and to it turn my face.
How could I not?
It’s in my nature, and my name.
This was inspired by this week’s paint-chip poetry. Linda asks us to write about the key to happiness using at least 4 of the colors’ names.
Orion hunts after sunset,
Rising in his night-sky dwelling:
He tries to find a balm for scars,
And aloe vera doesn’t go too far.
He tries to find fame in a red carpet,
But he is made of other stars.
Around him he sees darkness,
But this is no total eclipse.
He does not know he casts a long
Shadow because he’s already
So close to the light.