Outgrown

For MLMM’s Tale Weaver: Shirt. This is based on truth.


A favorite shirt outgrown:
Pretty pastel purple and blue,
With a rosette on the left shoulder,
She is unhappy but it is true:
She is getting older.
She thinks it looks so beautiful,
To let it go seems awful,
But the 9-year-old child knows
It has become too small for her.

IMG_0415
This looks nothing like the one in the poem.

Opposing Forces

This is for the Saturday Mix (on a Sunday) and also fits with FOWC: Idyllic. This prompt is apt for this week. 


Circumstances we do not pick,
Situations far from idyllic.

There is difficulty breathing,
Whether it be from masks or police
Or viruses, not leaving
Any aspect of society in peace.

I wish again for childhood,
Descend the slide of despair
Barely able to cope —
Ascend the ladder of hope.

Underneath Rock Bottom

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

Image found on the Poets and Storytellers United web site

I Need A Hug

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.

Double Take

For the Saturday Mix “double take”, also partially inspired by FOWC: Pensive. This is also basically stream-of-consciousness, so if it’s bad, that’s why. 😂


The weight

Of the world

In the brain.

 

Waiting for relief,

I seem

Pensive as a

Placid sea

 

— nothing but a

well-worn mask —

 

Underneath the surface

Waves are rolling

Quaking makes

Caves collapse

Soon a tsunami —

 

This is your warning.

 

Décima: Uncertainty

It is already the tenth décima challenge from Ronovan, and this is my offering.


The world today’s a messy place:
It seems impossible to clean,
So in the rubble we must glean
Glinting sunlight learn to embrace.

Now at a dizzying pace
Confusion makes more mess: often
We think it’s figured out, and then
Does anything make any sense?
We know there will be recompense
But we are impatient for when.

Ronovan Writes Decima Challenge Image

 

By Means of Music

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.

Music Against the Miasma

For First-Line Friday today, our first line is “Do you hear the people sing?” I appreciate the allusion to the Les Misérables musical.


Do you hear the people sing,
Underneath the dreary
Miasma of these circumstances?
Do you hear us fighting
The fog of fear and depression?
Voices must rise, with music
To battle this oppression:
These are our voices, lucky
Enough to be breathing.

alone buildings city cityscape
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com