Daylight Rationalist

I trace the circle around me
well salted with cynicism.
Sharpened stones lie
in every quarter,
while I’m cloaked
in rationality, secure
nothing under the sun can touch me.

Bleaching daylight gives way to the moon.
And nocturnes too subtle for day’s
cacophonous babble break
through to pierce
my too proud heart.
I cross the lines I created,
cutting myself on my own touchstones.

My cloak falls off in tatters
and I fly
until I am star drunk and well sated.
There is no shame
in my eyes
when I greet the rising sun.

This poem was created by a prompt given by me at Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads, Meme, where I asked people to create a poem from either the 13th line on the 7th page, or the 7th line from the 13th page of a book nearby them. The book I used was Witches by Erica Jong, and the quote that provided the inspiration (line 7 on page 13) was, “The rationalist scoffs, secure in his superiority to all those who claim that intellect is not enough to take us through this life.” 

Her Magic

She is her own
kind of magic. Banishing
limitations placed
by parochial minds,
she is innocent
darkness. Her hues
are enchanted to delight
her own eyes.

She knows
where her heart is,
there is her power.
So she cherishes all
that matches its beat -
and allows
no interruptions
to its rhythms.

Alphabet R by Erté

Song Choice: Video by India Arie 

This poem was inspired by the prompt given over at Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads, Flash 55 Plus, where we were invited to consider the art of Erté while creating our poem, as well as keeping to the 55 word limit. It is also linked to Poet's United Poetry Pantry #365.