Linking to DVerse OLN.
pilgrimage:
such is this whole life:
tear-water
sorrow-bread
levity leavens, briefly
hope keeps us going
DVerse Poets
Siren-Song
This is for DVerse Poetics, where we are exploring the concept of mermaids and related mythical creatures. I liked an image in the original post, so here it is:
Half-human creature with a fish’s tail,
She’s tempted many mariners with song:
Desire impels them to go right along
Into grave danger as they swiftly sail,
Enticed by light shining off each fish-scale.
One Shining Moment
We are writing traditional haibun about “one shining moment” in our life. Green and gold were mt high school’s colors.
After four years came her shining moment: Finally she was graduating from high school, with high honors. Her grades were not perfect, but she was happier for the fact of their imperfection, since it showed that she could survive it.
The sky above the sea of green and gold smiled benignly, while the future lay ahead of her like an exciting novel, in a language she could not read.
Under blazing sun
Clouds float in their big ocean —
We toss tasseled caps
44 Drums
At DVerse, for quadrille Monday, we are drumming! I have many positive associations with drums and drumming, so this was fun, but still difficult to write one that I wanted to share. Tell me what you think about this. 🙂
Words are pounding in my mind,
They can’t sneak out of this skull,
But need a pen as a conduit:
My heart speaks nervousness
As it drums against the lungs
Like bongos :
I need to let
The words go
They’ve been muted too much.
By Means of Music
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
in, poison?
Anxiety is inside of me,
Doing anything to become free
Of this rib cage’s constraints —
heart’s prison.
Imperturbable?
“We go in different directions down the imperturbable street.” This is the sentence, a line from a poem by Gwendolyn Brooks, that Merril gives us to use for DVerse prosery. Just so you all know, this is fiction, and also I am really not used to writing flash fiction, so go easy on me in the comments!
We meet each other on a sunny day, people bustling down both sides of the sidewalk. We embrace, you and I, my dearest friend. Our lives have gone in various directions since college, yet we have kept in touch, and now I finally get to see you again. After all this time, I still have feelings for you. Maybe if I were more daring, I would say so.
When I see the ring on your left hand, I paste a smile on my face, belying my true feelings. We enjoy the afternoon, but everyone, including you, is oblivious to the turmoil inside my heart. When the afternoon ends, I know this is the closing of a chapter. We go in different directions down the imperturbable street.
Clear Vision
Two tercets for DVerse and also inspired by Tale Weaver: dirty windows.
I wear glasses, and most of the time I wonder how it is possible to see out of them, since they get dirty in about a minute, even if I clean them!
There are dirty windows in front of my eyes;
Wonder how I could see, once I realize
How dirty the glasses had been.
As I remove the glasses now,
What new vision would my life allow,
If the lenses looked immaculate again?
To Drink You In
This is for DVerse’s prompt about rain, and it is particularly inspired by Sarah’s words in the prompt post itself, since Sarah asked us, “Give me your rain.”
Give me your rain.
Whether it be dew
Or a downpour,
Whether it be drizzle
Or a deluge,
That I may drink
You — Truth comes first.
Oh, I thirst.
Slipping
We are writing quadrilles using the word “slip.”
How effortless it sometimes is
To slip into a false persona,
Just because it is expected —
How difficult it sometimes turns
When the truth inside you burns,
To engulf walls you’ve erected —
And the mask you’ve selected.
Too tired to keep trying,
You slip.
I’ve Lost Count of the Days
I am sharing this with DVerse open link night. I’ve been trying to respond to several prompts, but it hasn’t been happening, so here’s this one!
Is
Every day
A repetition
Of the one before, all the
Same.
Stuff.
With all the same wonderful
Manifold small joys
Day after
Day?
