Today I am sharing a poem that was not inspired by any particular prompt, something that I usually do not do because there are so many prompts to take part in! I tried to finagle Fandango’s one-word challenge into a poem, but it didn’t work, so I wrote this sentence. 🙂
When the soul gets sad and lonely,
Remember life is not me only.
Reach out to another friend,
Some kind message to them send.
Maybe this friend also needs
Some loving positivity-seeds.
Antidote to a saddening pattern:
As a flower, to sunlight turn.
It’s time for DVerse Quadrille again! These prompts are usually magnetic to ideas, especially today’s. 🙂 I wasn’t going to post this, but I don’t have a better idea. Some people have much more of an influence than they think, even more than you might think. This is also shared with the Writers’ Pantry.
Did you know, Although it has been twelve years, The thought of you is magnetic To me? We are closer in your death Than in life we ever were. What if it had been me? Did you know, The void continues to call me?
This was written for this prompt about “trapped.” I just found that site last week, and it seems cool so far. I pondered trying to write something a little happier, but it’s difficult to write a positive post about being trapped. A lot of times I get trapped in my own over-thinking!
I am banging on the doors. My mind is closing in Look! See outside a window! I am banging on the doors Imploring them to open. Outside is fuller life, I know! I am banging on the doors, Budging them? A hallucination.
For DVerse Poetics, Sarah is challenging us to use “Three Little Words,” inspired by the site what3words.com. She gave us a list of 3-word combos, but I went to the web site and explored. I found the combination wounds.relay.caring, This is the poem that happened after that. It is also a décima for Ronovan’s prompt, Swing. And it got depressing again.
Up and down, strong emotions swing,
Each day a leg in a relay
Race that lasts too long, life delayed.
How many people are caring?
I understand, but the sharp sting
Of loss has not diminished: What
Is the cost of all of the cuts,
Wounds that must be made? Is it worth
The gain? Or is there a worse dearth?
It seems the door to dreams is shut.
The prompt for DVerse MTB was truly fascinating this week: lists from Google searches. I hope you like this bizarre compilation. It was fun, even if the result doesn’t make much sense. Tell me in the comments what you think it means!
Identity is shaped by Shaped by fire: Fire is alive Fire is a living thing, Fire is a living — nightmare, Nightmares every night — Nightmares are dreams, too.
This poem is for Linda Kruschke’s paint-chip poetry (at the last minute again) and is linked to DVerse OLN. Also, I decided at last to write a décima out of this, so I am linking it here. I’m not 100% happy with this, but I just want to get this posted before tomorrow. 🙂 Update: I don’t know what WordPress’s problem is, but it is forcing me to use the unwieldy block editor tonight, so I am having A LOT of difficulty. If the formatting is messed up, that is why.
More often than every blue moon. But every day requires courage: Pain like hot lava can ravage, Or if not now, it might be soon.
A sense of humor is a boon, An optimistic way to look, Lovely as a babbling brook, Whose flowing water makes storms still. No matter what comes, true self will Cause peace to shine, strengthen outlook.
Eventually for all of us, this Ubiquitous ceasing of earthly Life arrives — what is left behind? One’s family, friends, one’s love, Good memories and a gracious state: Yesterday’s gone; what words live today?
We may have had all summer to enjoy the sun, and now night and day are even. Yet as autumn begins to descend, I can’t help feeling it’s not a fair fight. I keep waiting for the last leaf to fall — for the other shoe to drop.
Flaming, leaves are red —
In a world that’s upside-down
Somewhere it is Spring
This is for Ronovan’s décima challenge, a bit too late, but I figured this week, better late than never. 🙂 We are supposed to use the word FALL in the B rhyme spot. By the way, this is almost totally unedited because I really wanted to get it done tonight, so your comments are appreciated.
Life’s not like fairy tales we pen,
Only one it is like at all:
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
And could not be put right again.
Pessimism’s tempting, often.
Nevertheless, I hope to write
A story a little more bright,
Even in some uncertain days —
Reality all hope betrays,
But other ends are in dream-sight.
I am sharing this poem with today’s Writers’ Pantry. It’s a shadorma that I wrote this morning. I intended to post something else but honestly think this is the best poem I’ve written recently that hasn’t already been posted.
cast in mist,
the future’s blurry
past is missed,
must be content with distance,
masks and Lysol spray