My hair has been cut
My dreams have been clipped
Shorn close
Stripped of lush-vitality
My list has been snipped
Ripped off, my wig-hat
Bald shown
My garden has been browsed low
This they say is all so
In lush fullness I can grow
20220530
Here is a quadrille for the prompt at https://dversepoets.com/2022/05/30/quadrille-153-out-of-the-meadows-browse/
Come join the fun!
each new trap
is darker
scarier
with a bigger maw
and slavering fangs
so go ahead
put the stones on my body
put the boa around my neck
lock the door behind me
forget the net
the oxygen mask
the lifeline
im going in
20220328
‘slavering fangs’ is a nod to an early computer game.
i may yet need
to turn that loathesome knob
endure the screeching hinges
leave my footprint in that ashen dust
thick upon the tear stained floorboards
I may yet need
to dare lift my voice in that hollow
silence
and pass that magic mirror
where a demon lurks
risk those reverberations
running down the cellar stairs
(those creaky musty stares)
and pool before his quaking
neglected terrified buster browns
20220325
The wild animal catches a whiff
The reptilian brain swift
To stir emotion, motion
The higher brain fills with notion
The heartbeat tide of oceans
Then and when contend
Away from the now they bend
The edge of the cliff is stiff
And so very near!
Clenched in Fear or deep
Into the beer, devotion to
An idea of the world unfurled
Like a flag on a pole, nothing without
Mere wind. We sinned. Out
In a wide world we could get
Away with a great deal
Now it’s too raw to close
To feel. Snared in our own net
Simultaneously reaching and
Recoiling, confusing immediacy
With the present moment.
Headlong! Oh would that we
Had done nothing, pandemically,
Earth shakes off a few million pests.
But would we learn from such
A monstrous teacher?
When people were smarter than machines
When government was limited
When there was no surveillance
When elephants and giraffes yet lived
And took biscuits
From your hand with their noses and purple tongues
And you got to drive a car
Unseen by youthful eyes
20220308 for the prompt at
https://dversepoets.com/2022/03/07/eyeing-the-quadrille-147/ this may become part of a larger poem, we shall see
Standing by the winding river
Slow dark and deep. Waiting
Unfinished bathroom floor
Last space just a bit too small
Driving the car home takeout
Pizza cheese and grease. Waiting
This really is a great product
Surely this comes with?
Nibbles are four bits
20220207 for d’Verse of course https://dversepoets.com/2022/02/07/quadrille-145/
I’m afraid this one is merely clever
Why is winter easier to accept than looking into the deep opinion of myself? That one that I never reveal but keep inside and lie to myself with.
That outside snow is just as cold and numbs my fingers like the inside snow does my heart, blanketing my psyche, insulating, but none of the pure white glistening. That outside snow gives the smiles from sliding on it down hills, the inside snow crashes me into trees. Outside, the amusement park is closed. Inside the hall of mirrors is open.
They lie to you though. The goal
Is not to escape, but to find which
One is the real you
20220131: haibun from dverse come join the fun: https://dversepoets.com/2022/01/31/haibun-monday-1-31-22-winter/
I was only a few months old
When Armstrong printed the regolith
Too young to know my grandfather
Too young to learn his teachings.
What could he have told me
About how to live well in this world?
What mistakes to avoid?
So I unearthed what I could of him
In stories records and old photographs
But like a microcosm of my species
Learning from the dinosaurs, what little
I can find ends up in a museum
Or a gas tank
20220119
A continuation of the previous post, inspired by earthweal https://earthweal.com/2022/01/17/earthweal-weekly-challenge-native-to-the-now/
Things only astronauts have seen
Sights that split you wide open
That sense of awe and wonder
Where everything important falls away
Like a spend rocket stage
No earthbound entity can perceive
Space as anything but empty and
Black
So stare into that void
And turn away from it
Here is the blue marble
So small
So alive
Who among us is not an actor
Playing a role called Me
I’ve got this story about who I am
And what Me means.
There’s a pile of likes
Another of dislikes
And what I can get away with.
Others watch.
Then, curtains and applause.
Which is a huge wind in the ego-sails
That fades, deflates
Then the emptiness becomes harder
To ignore.
The story of who I am that I have
And tell myself, serves, to a point.
The places where it differs with reality
Are where all the problems lie, and
All the difficulties arise.
There are a thousand things the story says are ok
But they’re not.
Your heart knows, your head invents excuses.
In one of us, this battle is waged
But in a group of us, a team
A corporation, a government
Where is the Heart that knows what’s right?
20220119: inspired by earthweal https://earthweal.com/2022/01/17/earthweal-weekly-challenge-native-to-the-now/ and an Amazon documentary about William shatner. I was only a few months old when we landed on the moon.
Oh let me be
Stick your key
Twist my lid
Open my tinned herring heart
Other organs comb and part
Tie my feet to the mantle ring
My fingers hang on to the stars
This slide is freshly waxed
The light falls right along
Catgut vibrating
I will make you a violin
Wrapped in baleen
Played by your hair
Bound in sound
Wraptured
Captured
Captained
Tennieled
…
Deal!
D’Verse: https://dversepoets.com/2022/01/13/meet-the-bar-with-narrative-nonsense/ Innonsence!
erbiage 