self awareness

Schooled

~ Annette Kalandros ~ 7 Comments
Image courtesy of Daily Hive
https://amanpan.com/2020/10/12/eugis-weekly-prompt-foresight-october-12-2020/
https://godoggocafe.com/2020/10/13/tuesday-writing-prompt-challenge-october-13-2020/

 

In the fading light,

My hindsight schools, lectures, drills

My foresight

In how to take steps,

In how to look away,

In how to live hopeless,

In how to heal with saltwater dreams

Overflowing with hope.

Yet still with foresight

In how to guard,

My scars, my wounds,

My picked at scabs

In this

fading light of days

Unfilled,

Lived,

Cheered,

Flowering with dreams,

Left

Of life remaining.

Sights of Sunlight and Night

~ Annette Kalandros ~ 11 Comments
My Own Image
https://onewomansquest.org/2020/08/17/vjs-weekly-challenge-109-what-a-sight/
https://godoggocafe.com/2020/08/18/tuesday-writing-prompt-challenge-august-18-2020/

Eugi’s Weekly Prompt “Night meets Day” August 17, 2020

What a sight the years have been!

Skipped a few heartbeats

walking through the valley,

found nothing new.

I sailed an ocean

didn’t dance as I’d wanted too.

In the desert,

I played a little poker,

winning the game, some money,

but still didn’t know what to do.

Then I thought I’d found a dream,

waking from the nightmare,

I screamed to see

the sight beside me.

Now, I journey onward

to catch the sunlight

as night meets day,

greeting what new sights

I encounter along the way.

Of Need and Desire

~ Annette Kalandros ~ 7 Comments
Image courtesy of Sue Vincent
https://scvincent.com/2020/08/06/thursday-photo-prompt-fantasy-writephoto/

So very willingly,

I placed my head into danger’s toothy mouth

When I climbed the Pilgrim’s stairs–

Until dizzy from the height,  

And the steepness of the effort–

All done to look upon

A pure crystalline blue sky

Caressing a sapphire sea—

A fantasy of need.

Gratitude

~ Annette Kalandros ~ 7 Comments
Image courtesy of Flickr

August–

The resplendent month,

Of sun’s heat and blinding light.

The lethargic month

Of jealousy’s blight,

A thing of loss, not fought.

August—

The milestone marking month,

Of anniversaries, holidays, tears.

The flaming month

Of ashes where freedom,

A rising thing, held dear.

https://amanpan.com/2020/08/03/eugis-weekly-prompt-august-august-3-2020/

On The Horizon

~ Annette Kalandros ~ 6 Comments
Image courtesy of Sue Vincent

Thursday photo prompt: Vista #writephoto

Gazing at lush greenness as it travels

along this vista, a soul emptied of itself,

shrinking away to dust

for all the of giving it had done,

breathes in fullness and begins to glow.

Only here in green wildness breathed,

can pinhole prick holes and jagged slashes

be sealed in a soul emptied of itself.

Catacomb of Colors

~ Annette Kalandros ~ 5 Comments
Wikipedia image of Rosh HaNikra grottoes

I can hide in catacombs of colors and never look to the sky.
My blood shed, bled out in tiny droplets of all the years of parting,
dripping, draining in the darkness
And carried away, scattered to the winds,
Leavings upon the ground, seedless seeds,
Sprouting up in colorless flowers of summer without colors,
Without the dreams of sunlight on their faces,
Without fragrance sweet, divinity in scents we can never forget lost.
We learn to live with regrets taken, earned, packed away
With the mortgage of things within our hearts, within our lifetimes of meaning,
Within our trying just one more damn time,
Drifting up in clouds of long-ago cigarette smoke.
Crush this dried out husk of me,
Scatter those particles of dust to the wind
And see if colors sprout once that dust settles upon the ground,
See if there’s meaning left within their regrets,
See if there’s fragrance, some elegance of divinity within a scent
To be remembered when there is nothing,
Nothing left but this wisp of memory
Within your breath.
Let go my hand, love. Leave me wrapped in the shroud
Of all my days and regrets shared along the way
To here, this time of parting. Leave me to hide away
In this catacomb of colors.

Could You, Would You

~ Annette Kalandros ~ 10 Comments
image courtesy of jens at pexels

Could you, would you
know the darkness too?
Or would you try to erase it
as others do?
Would you ignore it?
Say you wanted it gone?
Say your touch
should drive away
the darkness within?
The darkness is there–
inside me,
it has always been,
I need it, need it to be there,
just a spot or two.
I need it to visit, take a trip with it.
Occasionally—
ride a night, a day, all the stars at times,
sleep and wake with it.
It keeps me strong,
this steel skeleton of my heart and soul,
keeps me whole,
makes me who I am.
My darkness does not need
some antidepressant elixir.
My darkness is a shit pile of things,
years, and incidents I keep
tucked away–
a part of me.

Could you, would you
know it?
Keep it, if given?
Or tell me to let it go and get over it
like others have?
Could you, would you
understand how happiness can be had
and yet keep the darkness
for creating, repairing,
reinforcing the steel railings
of my spine,
my soul,
my heart,
my mind,
my all that I am.
Could you, would you
understand, without the darkness,
I cannot give you all that I am?

Scars of Flame

~ Annette Kalandros ~ 2 Comments

My scars flames–
The sides of my back,
pock marked brown
drying dark
if not daily oiled in
the red, orange, white
of flames,
trailing once welted scars,
faded, now barely.
if even seen–
Feathered flames
enabling flight,
if I should like,
or if I so prefer,
burning back past paths
behind so I may fly
to places I wish,
keeping promises
to my soul.
My scars flame–
Only I see
and only I know
the power contained
in my flaming scars.

The Friction of Salt

~ Annette Kalandros ~ 14 Comments

 

woman at sea

Image from Shutterstock

 

Pieces of her broke in the waves,
Searching for wildness
In this place she always went to be alone.
She walked along this shore a thousand times
In the dawn and the dusk
As if they were quantities unknown,
And thus, in them, she could discover some truth,
Some faith, some charity, some hope for herself.
Who knew? It had worked before.
She’d walk toward the town with something—
Some small bit piece replenished.

Besides–
She’d always heard salt was healing,
So she figured she’d rub it in her wounds.
But bloody red and raw
She walks still wounded, broken,
Along the wildness,
Yet not touching it.
Freedom elusive.
She can not find what she lost.
Her wounds chains,
Binding her still
To things she knew illusions.
She waits for the friction of salt
To rub away the chains.
She walks toward the seals in the surf
And on toward the whales in the deep,
Searching for truth or faith or charity
In the wildness of the sea.