Nonsense Cloud

Myriads of fantasies
always billow about in my brain,
as easily contained as dandelion fluff.

They promenade in by the score
vying for attention day and night,
brightly feathered and chirping,
heedless of my need
to deal with terra firma.

But if you were to ask,
not just about my imaginings,
but of desires and aspirations –

I want
my children to know
happiness from knowing oneself,
my husband to feel
at ease in the comfort of our love,
my friends to have
peace of heart, mind and body,

a good cup of tea,
a story to tell,
and to find people
who’d like to hear that story.


This poem was created from the prompt given over at A Dash of Sunny, Prompt Nights: Dreams

Alarmingly Fearless

The center ring is my home.
My dance always draws a crowd.
Dancing in darkness is my specialty,
and it’s getting darker now.

Laugh!
I’m funny.
Laugh. Remember
how good it sounds?

Laugh, look into my mirror,
which no distortion can mar.
It’s alarming, I know,
to see how strong glee can be.

Don’t look away now!
Be fearless. Understand
you are powerful in your joy.

Fashion a sword and shield
from laughter in the dark.
Protect the one in the mirror’s reflection.
Their joy is needed.


This poem marks a first in that I hit all three suggested prompts for the Toads's Play It Again Toads. The first one was Word Count With Mama Zen (Is Your Life a Circus/ 90 words or less). The second was the Way of Tea (base a poem on a poem by famous tea master Sen Rikyu. I chose, "See with your eyes! Listen with your ears! And if you wish to smell the fragrance, press for an explanation of every unresolved matter until your understanding is complete."). The third was Kerry's Word Challenge, Gods In Nature (write from the point of view of an old god). I took a little poetic license with the original assignment as written, and went with a different pantheon from the ones suggested. I chose Ame-no-Uzume-no-Mikoto (sometimes known simply as Uzume) from Japanese Shinto lore. She was the goddess who got Amaterasu (the sun goddess) to come out of the cave in which she was hiding by performing a bawdy dance. One of her epithets was Alarming Heavenly Female.

Traveler

The air feels cleaner in my lungs
when I’m there.
I taste mint as I gulp it down,
and the tingle of it runs
down the ley lines of my body.

Did a lamppost in the snow guide me there?
I probably already knew the way,
before stumbling across a worn book,
unnumbered, and hidden on a high shelf.

It is there I go, to remember what matters.
I drink from the well of heroes,
fan the spark of resolve inside me
until I know my heart again.

Perhaps it is strange to find comfort there.
Though unlike faerie gold, that spends true.
It costs me nothing, dispensing largess
in the form of words and verse,
leaving my version of a lamppost in the snow
to guide others in their travels as well.




This poem is in response to A Dash of Sunny's prompt, The Hidden Realm

Soul's Sanguisuge

It’d be nice if garlic could ward it off.
Or a holy symbol. Sadly,
it not only developed a tolerance
for those, it absorbs them, sometimes,
uses them as armor.

Keep all beauty away from it,
because there is nothing too pure
for it to devour.

And oh, how it loves to bite,
loves to gnaw, and tear.
It drains you dry,
while it whispers promises.

You can fill the hollowness  -
as long as you are willing
to thrust the ache into another.

It’s so easy, stealing strength,
so you can overpower reason.
Cannibalize your humanity,
so you never have to look in the mirror.


This poem is in response to the prompt given by A Dash of Sunny: Hate's A Parasite That Robs the Soul.

Kingdom Come

The lines of my life were crisp and clean,
delineated by rulers,
as straight as the hair I wished I was born with.

Habit wound around me,
wrapping wool around my senses,
and attempting to limit
my mind to the parochial.

Heaven knows how I got loose.
Heaven knows how I found myself here.
Heaven knows what was ignited

the first time we touched,
the first time your breath
was at one with mine.

The sharp lines were banished,
leaving you and I to curl around one another
like wisps of incense rising ever higher.

I found my voice again, and sing
oh love, I sing.
I sing with my voice.
I sing with my skin.
I sing with my soul.
I sing of you, you
and drink in starlight
to shine like the moon.

And when moonset comes,
we find we crave each other still.
Our fingers trace sigils onto each other’s’ skin –
the culmination of the quixotic magic
that brought us to this moment.


Song Choice: Angels by The Xx

Process note: This is actually an expansion of one of the micropoems I created back in April. 




This poem was inspired by the prompt given by A Dash of Sunny, Prompt Nights: Passion Makes the World Go 'Round