Exhausting Indecision

This décima is for Ronovan Writes’s prompts this week (street in the C line) and last week (go in the B line) because I did not post one last time.


A thousand possibilities —
So many directions to go
And it’s tough to travel solo.
This does not free but makes her freeze.

Abundant insecurities:
At the intersection where meet
Two roads, how does she know which street
To follow, when there is no map?
The journey already has sapped
Her energy — rest aching feet.

Ronovan Writes Decima Challenge Image

Clock

This is brought to you by the Writing Wednesday prompt, “time.”Thinking about time always gives me a small existential crisis, so happy reading to you!!


Hands: running in circles,
Unable to turn backwards.

Roman numerals reveal the hour,
Gesturing toward its lateness.

Is every half-an-hour announced
With the sound of a cuckoo?

round black wooden analog table clock on black surface
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To Exist Safely

Today at DVerse, we have prosery again. This is usually very difficult for me, so I rarely try it, but this week I want to try. 🙂 However, the given line, from Rilke, is challenging: “Only mouths are we. Who sings the distant heart which safely exists in the center of all things?” – from Rainer Maria Rilke, “Heartbeat.” I am also sharing this with yesterday’s Writers’ Pantry at PSU. I usually don’t share anything other than poems, so this should be fun.


There is something inside that must be spoken, before it eats its way out of its cage inside of her mind. She tries to find the words to express her secret, but with difficulty, for she can barely get any words out without shaking. She trips over those words, like stones in her path to freedom. Even the words that escape the prison of her lips do not seem to express fully what she means to say. Sadly she realizes, “Only mouths are we. Who sings the distant heart which safely exists in the center of all things?”

Continuing to tremble, as if trying to shake off the chains of the past, she hugs herself and feels the beat of her own heart in the center of her chest. It is the life inside of her, which is close and which has its own, wordless song. She takes a deep breath in and begins to speak again.

 

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Nightmare

This week’s décima challenge from Ronovan Writes is to use the word CHASE in one of the C rhyme spots.


A nightmare blooms inside my head
When I lie down to sleep tonight:
Subconscious seems prepared to fight
As into its strange realm I tread.

As body sleeps snug in my bed,
I’m trying to pick up my pace
To outrun what attempts to chase
Me, but as expected I’m caught.
Can I unlearn what has been taught,
To find a new dream to embrace?

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