Something to Remember

I’m having trouble finishing almost all of the poems that I started today, so here is one that I wrote yesterday, no prompt. It is a butterfly cinquain. 🙂


O Heart!
Remember God
Created my being,
The reason for my existence
Unknown —
But Love
Nevertheless keeps on calling,
“Cor ad cor loquitur,” *
In a language
Hidden.

 

* Latin, “Heart speaks to heart”

Ubi Sunt

This is a free-verse “Ubi Sunt” poem for Linda’s paint-chip poetry prompt. The given words are pictured below the poem. This was inspired by the way that I write so much and so small that I often forget about poems that I have written or where / when I wrote them.


Where are the words erased,
Written lightly in graphite?
Even the words put down in pen
Are difficult to see, crammed
Without pizzazz in tiny spaces,
In need of illumination.
Where are the poems that I
Remember writing, remember liking
But can no longer find,
Buried as they are under years
Of other poem-filled lines?

Secrets Hidden from Everyone

This poem is in response to FOWC: Keen, and it also uses yesterday’s word, Anonymous.


I’m keen to know the secrets of the heart,
The hidden and anonymous parts,
The mysterious maze-like corridors,
The core from which a person’s life pours.

I wish to know the web of paths which led
To this beautiful moment, and the bad
Happenings now past — impossible, it’s said.

Collections

Today’s stream-of-consciousness Saturday prompt is “collect.”

Obviously, I thought of the verb “to collect” something, which led to the things that I used to collect, most notably stickers. I remember very proudly counting all of my stickers, one by one, and finding that I had over a thousand! I also used to collect stuffed animals (I still have a collection, but now my collection is down to a couple dozen and not a couple hundred!). I guess you could say that I collect books now, because I have many, many books on my bookshelf, which I may never read again, and despite the sheer number of books that I have yet to read, I still get tempted to buy more. So, I collect books, and they tend to collect dust. I think what I collect most is WORDS — my own and other people’s. Between all of my journals and notebooks, plus every book, I have probably collected millions of words. 😀

Also, every day we’re alive, we collect more memories, even as some memories are lost to the flow of time… I will stop my stream-of-consciousness before I get pulled into the whitewater rapids of melancholy.

collections:
varied memories
stickers, books
fluffy things
some of which has gone away
much collecting dust