While I was sleeping
Buck moon ventured forth, and fled
Back into the trees
For Frank’s haikai prompt. The July full moon is known as the Buck Moon. Apparently, the full moon happened shortly after midnight on July 5th.
I am also sharing with the Writers’ Pantry. Come join us!
This is for this week’s Weekly Scribblings, inspired by pavement. I intended to write something longer than a haiku but actually think this is okay. Also, today and yesterday have been notably good days, so this isn’t necessarily autobiographical.
Varying dark shades:
Puddles on the pavement rain
Deeper into cracks
I wish you’d hold me closely,
Do not begrudge me a hug
I live, exist so lonely.
Is everyone suspect, risky?
When it is deemed to be safe
We’ll need to undo conditioning,
And that’s maybe most dangerous:
Isolation. Deprivation. Silent chorus.
Maybe this poem makes me sound pathetic, but gosh all I want is a hug. I don’t live by myself but am still so isolated, especially emotionally. Thanks to Fandango for the prompt word, and I am also sharing with the Writers’ Pantry. Will post this before I change my mind.
This was meant to be just for Linda G. Hill’s coloring club this month, but then I realized — shockingly — that I could also write a poem inspired by the picture. Linking to the Weekly Scribblings, where we explore “when all else fails.”
When I feel like I’m drowning,
When my lungs pound to be let out
Of their cage, I find a place
Where I can breathe underwater.
When all else appears to fail,
Find where cats with mermaid tails
Play and swim, and simply dream:
For a moment flow with the silly whim.
This is a Décima for this week’s challenge. It was also partially inspired by today’s Writers’ Pantry, to which I am linking. Also linked to FOWC: Ordinary.
There is some good worth fighting for,
Even if we don’t know what’s next
Watching video, reading text
Cause fears to multiply and pour.
Yet I know, in my deepest core,
Beauty in ordinary hours
Might be tiny, yet overpow’rs
Somehow, despite the hard struggle.
It’s the moments that make life full,
This is quite a time: It is ours.
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.
For FOWC: Thanks and yesterday’s Saturday Mix about opposing forces, and also shared with this week’s Writers’ Pantry. This poetry form is called a sevenling .
Thank you for the absence
Of oppressive heat, of sickness
In my vicinity, of being busy.
Thank you too for the presence
Of friendship over long distance,
Of voices, and to balance them — silence.
Gift of timing comes with everything.
For this Wednesday’s Weekly Scribblings, we are writing about the idea of discipline. I’m not exactly happy with how this poem turned out, so let’s call it a rough draft. Maybe I’ll find the discipline to edit it later. 🙂
Painful in the moment
Is determined discipline:
Is it worth the perseverance
To keep going when
It seems better to quit?
The finish line — imagine
Exhilaration, crossing it!
I am sharing this with the Writers’ Pantry, as we say goodbye to May and say “Onward, June.” I’m happy about today being the special day of Pentecost, yet this is what I wrote in response to reading a passage from Romans 8 this morning.
He who searches hearts:
Understand this muddled voice
Troubled with what-if
Likewise the Spirit also helps in our weaknesses. For we do not know what we should pray for as we ought, but the Spirit Himself makes intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered. Now He who searches the hearts knows what the mind of the Spirit is, because He makes intercession for the saints according to the will of God
Romans 8:26-27 (NKJV)
This is linked with the Writers’ Pantry and was also partially inspired by First Line Friday, though it is not according to the prompt.
In the morning’s softened light,
Coffee’s rising steam:
As I watch, it dissipates,
Like the briefest dream.
I imbibe the bitter taste
Peaceful in expression,
Would that I could grateful be
For life’s messy sections!
This time is a nightmare part —
Won’t it like a dream depart?
