Daisy

For DVerse’s Quadrille Monday, we are to write a poem of 44 words containing the word “ice.” I couldn’t help dipping my poetic pen-paintbrush into some dark paints. Not sure if it’s good, but it’s the best thing I’ve written all week. 

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She tries to ward off his advances,
Feeling helpless as a daisy in a snowstorm
As his icy fingers chillingly caress
Her hair as if it were pure-white petals,
Before he rips them, callously as if limb-from-limb.
Her tears are the dewdrops of mo(u)ring. 

Photo by Alan Cabello on Pexels.com

MVB Prompt: Advance.  

Old Diaries

Dusty notebooks, journals
Filled with the slant of cursive 
Or disjointed printing in ink --

Dusty notebooks filled with 
Memories, which I remember
Both living and writing of --

They come alive again, when 
I read, happiness, but so too
The pain of what is missing. 

For FOWC: Slant and MVB: Dusty. 

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

A Sea of Grief and Longing

Just now, I wrote a poem for the Sunday Whirl’s Wordle #581. If it’s nothing but a word salad, it’s because I’m still depressed and very sad and grieving, but here you go. Update: Sharing with DVerse Open Link Live!

Let one's flame, spilt over the darkness, 
Cause a gap filled with light to be ripped
Into the world, knocking down hopelessness's
Walls -- Let's touch hope for a half-second,
Even with fingers numb with cold, 
Even with the rest of the Earth burning down
To ashes, amidst a sea of grief and longing. 

A Place to Live

I wrote 5 poems today, which isn’t a bad number, but the poems themselves might be. 🙂 It might be fun to participate in some sort of poetry workshop — as long as no one would mercilessly rip my creations to shreds.

This poem form is called a Marianne for some reason. It was inspired in part by today’s Gospel passage.

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Holding your hand —
I miss how strong it felt.
But that is not my promised land,
That house is built
On sand.

 

Cheer?

For DVerse Poetics: Cheers!, we are to write inspired by a drink. I’m glad that it wasn’t limited to alcoholic beverages because I don’t drink; in fact, I find the mere smell of alcohol repulsive.

Other people have written gorgeous poems involving wine, but this is mine. 😅 I write what I know, haha. Comments are appreciated. 

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Starbucks is my bar. 

I walked straight there, after
Getting my heart broken (again)

I needed a hot, tall (handsome?)
Dark roast immediately that morning,
And time to cry and write.

The salt from my tears
Under the rims of my glasses

Made me look somewhat on the rocks.

I Miss the Past

For MLMM’S Opposing Forces. Quite often, I look back and think things used to be so much better. At the very least, I miss the past, probably too much. Also, at least for me, I feel like my life has stopped for the past 6 or 7 years, like I left myself back there or something. 

Please comment if you know what the heck I mean by that.

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“Call Me Mara” *

With all my reminisces, 
I ought to take a tiny bit of sugar 
To sweeten any bitterness of loss;
And like Lot's wife, take
A giant pillar of salt as the cost. 

               * see Ruth 1:20

Friends’ Hearts

For this week’s One-Liner Wednesday, I have this quotation from the great Archbishop Fulton Sheen, found in my book of his quotations. 

In every friendship hearts grow and entwine themselves together, so that the two hearts seem to make only one heart with only a common thought. That is why separation is so painful; it is not so much two hearts separating, but one being torn asunder.

I think this is applicable to any true, deep friendship and does not have to be a romantic relationship.

Out of Her Element

The first think I think of when given the word “element” is the Periodic Table of Elements and chemistry class. Even though when I am writing I am in my element, I can’t seem to write a poem about that. Earlier this week I did write a 6-Sentence Story having to do with chemistry. I was really good at it in theory, but when I got into the lab, I learned that I am not good at chemistry at all; in fact, it terrified me, so I changed my college major.

This story was written almost SoC-style, except the last half of the last sentence was from ChelleBee.

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Should she stay at her current university, while changing her major, or should she transfer to a different one? She didn’t know what to do with the next year, let alone the rest of her life.

Returning to her childhood home, the trunk of her life’s tree, she tried to discern where to go from there, which branch to take next. A year at the community college, taking various classes, turned into three, and a few more years intervened between then and eventual graduation. In terms of college units, she had started out ahead of her classmates, but she had ended up behind every one of her peers; though she was not entirely unhappy with her life, she and her parents thought that she would have accomplished much more by now.

At the time, she was unaware of how momentous her decision to change her university would be, but years later she realized that that had been the defining moment of her life.

Are You?

Are you a Kindly Moon?
Is that why I've been feeling
Happy, lately, despite 
Missing him?
            (Someone said,
"The heart is a lonely hunter"
And is that not true, mournful
As a wolf's howl?)

Happy, lately, despite 
Being a Traveler in the tension
Between now and not-yet? 

There's nothing wrong with wanting,
Nor with the process of waiting,
But if I were a gopher I would 
Look back,
          (If I were Lot's wife I would
Be all salty)
                   Longing for a past
Which can never be remembered 
With the fidelity of Ivy --

      Yet, Kindly Moon, you see
      The harvest growing tall
      And ripe, after this Seed Fall. 

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Thanks to DVerse Poetics for this prompt, using the various names for the October full moon as inspiration (follow the link for the full list). Also inspired by FOWC: Tension. I’m not sure whether this “Kindly Moon” pleasant and stable mood will last, but at least I could write this. 

Photo by David Besh on Pexels.com

Idyllic Ideal

Beautiful winter scene,
Idyllic, ideal
Inside of a snow globe
Shattered, is not real.

Windows bedecked with lights,
Blanket of snow did fall,
Now the glass is shattered
You barely care at all.

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MVB Prompt: Snow Globe brought back memories. My ex and I liked to do jigsaw puzzles, and one was of a beautiful, wintry Christmas scene inside of a snow globe.

I do miss him, and I can’t just “get over” him because any love worthy of the name does not simply end. On the other hand, it’s like he doesn’t care at all. Apparently, his mom didn’t like me, and that’s all that matters; he’s too afraid or apathetic to do anything about it. Truly, either he’s a mama’s boy, or she’s a nightmare, or both. Either way, it doesn’t help me feel better emotionally. Even if I could get somebody better, I don’t exactly want anyone better right now. Thanks for reading my little rant.