Category: emotion

Decision on a Birdfeeder

image courtesy of publicdomainpictures.net

 

I hesitate in remembrance

as if the fates would choose

a day of gray and leave me there,

as if a blossoming could be had upon

a second visitation to any day.

 

The creamer clouds disperse and swirl

in my extra strong coffee

like memories of things I wanted–

never had, never attained

all those years ago.

 

Stirring the coffee still,

I stare out the kitchen window.

Decide against a bird feeder

filled with black oil sunflower seeds.

I do not want cardinals here.

People say cardinals are spirits

of those you’ve lost come to visit you—

No.  I want no cardinals here.

No spirits of the lost to visit or say hello.

No twittering or chittering away.

No vibrancy of color outside this window.

No.  Not here.  Not in this place.

 

I’d rather this be a spiritless place,

A virgin place, void of spirits, void of touch—

 

At least for a time

 

 

 

Angels Call

Image courtesy of PixelsTalk.Net
Weekend Writing Prompt #197 – Call | Sammi Cox (wordpress.com)

 

angels call, singing for a while,

watching us,

aping things they’d heard, saw,

obsessing over things                                            

we tossed away–

time, primarily–

angels lost feathers, attempting to understand

our tossing away time like used tissues, soiled food tins–

when we held little.

 

 

The Trophy #writephoto

Accidently linked to Sundaymuse Please go to https://aikalandros.com/2021/08/02/the-vines-of-a-tiny-truth/

Image from Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo Prompt
Thursday photo prompt: Deeper #writephoto | Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo (scvincent.com)

Staring deeper into the center of the pool,

The wisdom of a street wise Athena

Forgotten, ignored, stripped away,

She stood readied for the flow of molten metal

To form customized links of chain, binding forever

Spirit and soul into a trophy of destruction.

Thus, she stared even deeper,

Praying for escape,

As molten metal seared her wrists,

Her ankles, her soul,

Chaining her forever to the stone,

Making of her a possession, a trophy of destruction,

Displayed for an ego never sated.

Tuck It Away

Image is my own

Tell the angels

To tuck away deep inside their chests

Such a cotton candy fire of winter sky raging,

Roiling in clouds there

Undeterred by storms         

Or answers

Or truths

Provide no magic, no elixir

For human loss or longing,

Aching and confined in such beauty.

The Price

Image is my own

Weekend Writing Prompt #194 – Beguile | Sammi Cox (wordpress.com)

Wish I could rest beguiled–

Believing willingly in soft whispered lies

If only for this little while of rest

As if slipping easily between

The waxen petals of lilies

And curling round the sweetened smell

Of wonderous blossoming softness—

Yet the price, the price of choosing

The rest of such beguilement

 

Guarded Trail

Image courtesy of Sue Vincent
Thursday photo prompt: Guarded #writephoto | Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo (scvincent.com)

Give me a minute.

Let me have another cup of coffee,

Will you?

Before I slosh on after,

Down the trail–

Again– maybe.

You say, a guard now stands there,

Of the newer variety,

Who advises of the locust thorns,

The kind that pierces the shoe

And can go straight into your foot?

Could have used that advice–

Once or twice

Maybe thrice

In life.

But now I’ve rubbed my thumbs

Over the sharp tipped thorns of regret

Until callouses formed.

Then I moved on to other

Fingertips until bloody, raw,

Proving to myself the sharpness of thorns.

So now, you say this stony guardian warns

Of all the thorns

Along the paths and trails?

Might this guardian advise of a thornless trail?

I really wouldn’t care, but the soles of my feet

Are without callous, and I’d like to keep them so.

Send me down a muddy, sloshy trail where

I might just fall and break my neck.

That would be simply fine,

If the soles of my feet

Remain as soft and unmarred

as a baby’s behind.

Evening Seeking

Image courtesy of thewowstyle.com
Weekend Writing Prompt #188 – Languid | Sammi Cox (wordpress.com)

 

The languid time of evening

Comes in flames,

Searching horizons

In their lazy, twisting way

For truths and hearts.

 

Forever searching

For another flaming heart

To serve as a twin

As if that could be found

In such languid searching

In slowing time

Between sunset and sunrise,

Each a prize of flame,

never finding another flaming heart.

Winter’s Grief

Image courtesy of Flickr

Icy cold wind walks.

Blinding sunshine ironic,

Burning horizons,

 

Promises of warmth

Unfulfilled in morning’s cry

Of grey storm cloud’s tears,

 

And then nothing left

Of fires or dreams curling,

Blanketing round us.

Sleeplessness

Image courtesy of Wikiart.com

Sleeplessness always told the story

Between the here and the now

The between and

What she thought a game

The tracks that led to nowhere

The last section of a living

Something not well lived

A swirl of memory

Piercing through knots

could not be undone

She had lived with no plan

With only a heart that failed

More than once

A heart she could not ever trust

A heart that spoke in religious tongues

She’d yet to understand

Its rhyme or reason for speaking

In lies and whispers,                                            

For leading her astray,

For leading her to abandon her dreams and plans,

She would never know.

This was her last act, in her last years,

To strip herself of harlequin clothes.

 

Winter Has No Cheer

Image courtesy of Pinterest.com
Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge—December 8, 2020 | Go Dog Go Café (godoggocafe.com)

As winter whispers

The longing starts

For warmer days

Of a warming spring

Leaking slowly

Into a sweltering summer.

As winter whispers

In pretense of knowing

Warmth and cheer

Of holidays it cannot contain

In its freezing coldness,

We are left untouched

For far too long—

Our souls grow grey

In these winter days

And leap at the hope

Contained in striking colors

Of Winter’s sunsets–

Only to have hope

Bashed, broken, bleeding

Against the frozen Winter

Ground.  As Winter whispers,

Chuckling at our fragile humanity.