Flight

For DVerse Poetics “Flights of Fancy” and inspired by something I saw in my family’s garden yesterday.


The finch perches
On the back of a sunflower,
As she awaits her turn
At the filled feeder:
She finds her chance
And when she flies
The flower dances springily back,
In true sunflower fashion;
The finch uses the free
Surplus of birdseed
To fuel more of her
Flight and avian dreams.

Demeter and Persephone

This is for paint-chip poetry #29. I decided to try a short retelling of a myth.

She cursed those three pomegranate seeds.
Now caught in dark winter, she wonders
Whose bright idea was it
To let her daughter eat them?
Demeter’s mood is tropical storm, far from warm,
And she feels her precious baby’s
Breath become a frigid frost again.

To a Sunflower

Shared with the Writers’ Pantry this week. Magaly talks about keeping a sense of hope, and I wrote this even before reading that.


You are slowly opening:
Hope in nature’s bloom,
Showing what it is to wait,
And to give growth room.
Yellow petals reaching out,
Pretty little flower,
Like a set of open hands
With surprising power.
Captivating littleness,
Sowing seeds of your greatness.

IMG_20200716_092038456
photo taken by me a few days ago

Mystical Changes

Linda Kruschke has another paint-chip poetry prompt this week. It is a bit different this time:

I’m not sure if I like how this turned out, but here is my (first) attempt.


Isn’t gratitude something mystical?
It turns key limes into a pie,
It creates a banana split
From one humble fruit —
Tenderly-watered seeds
Bloom into Grandma’s hydrangeas:
Not every flower is showy
Yet they make a beautiful whole,
Isn’t gratitude something mystical
Running in the family of hope?

Bauernhortensie Wochenmarkt.jpg
By 3268zauber – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5074918

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

 

Some say the world will end in fire…

I decided to share this décima for Ronovan’s challenge, despite not being 100% happy with it. It’s pretty bleak, but that’s what kind of head-space I’ve been in: like, “If God is going to destroy the world now, can He get it over with?” Also sharing with this week’s MLMM photo challenge because the photo and poem are related. Apologies to Robert Frost for the title.

God said He’d never Earth entire
Destroy with rain, and that is why
The rainbow arcs across the sky –
But He said nothing about fire.

When will the Earth become a pyre,
Is there a method to avoid?
Repent, that we be not destroyed.
Of course we pray our rosary,
Yet despair haunts me doggedly:
What hell is this, Fauci to Floyd?

Ronovan Writes Decima Challenge Image

My Determined Scribblings

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!