Souls' Marks

 

The heat of passionate loves

     and courageous causes

Memorialized in poignant rainbows

     on cold, grey canvas

Tombstones

     marking man's everyday existence

In fleeting, flickering glimpses

     of heart and soul

Shared with One Stop Poetry for One Shoot Sunday.  Photo courtesy of Chris Galford.

Heart's Winter

 

Heart buried-

     under shifting drifts of memories

Emotions shrouded-

     buffeted by gale-force winds

Left cold-

     by life's icy breezes

     and fiery blizzards

Frozen-

     in winter's flashback

Awaiting-

     enlightenment of spring

Shared with One Stop Poetry for One Shot Wednesday.

A Sister's Tribute

Memories of you fill hazy spring skies.

I hear your lingering voice when birds sing.

Always you're there in your daughter's brown eyes.

When she speaks, your quiet, laughing tones ring.

As family gathers, you're at our side

with all the warm, happy feelings you bring.

Through life's ups and downs, you'll be my best friend

Brothers and sisters endure to the end.

Written in memory of my brother and shared with One Stop Poetry for Form Monday which, for today, is ottava rima.

Confinement

 Steep canyons of man-made madness

humanity's inescapable facade

jailed in brick and glass

forever entombed in

my prison of

civil society

eulogized in a

disappearing

sky

Shared with One Stop Poetry for One Shoot Sunday, and with  Monkey Man for Sunday 160.  Photo courtesy of Scott Wyden.

Features of Wisdom

 

Features of Wisdom

Face of life

etched in deep-carved lines

Wisdom's skilled 

countenance

imparts his hard-earned wisdom

with kindness and smiles

Shadorma for One Shoot Sunday at One Stop Poetry. Incredible photo credit of photographer Fee Easton.

Rise and Rise Again

 

Rise and Rise Again

When lambs become lions,

--victory's part

holds much less importance

than matters of heart

Brave men come to honor

--through trials and travails,

though courage may falter

and hope sometimes fails

Their leader inspires

--resolution unfailed

men's faith and belief,

as his own doubts he veils

Through battles and burdens

--ideals will ascend

their substance and truth

over time still undimmed

They fight not for glory

--but for hearth and for home

not for riches or kings,

but for liberty's throne

They will rise, and again

--'til tyranny's fall

until lambs become lions

Free men one and all

Submitted to Friday Poetically's challenge to write a poem using a movie preference, at One Stop Poetry.  Thanks, as usual, to the inspiration.

Heart Notes

 

Heart Notes

Songs of the heart

always on key

and in perfect pitch.

Silent music

of infinite volume

Lyrics nonsensible

yet always making sense

to the heart which sings them.

Shared with One Stop Poetry for One Shot Wednesday.

Broken Circles

Broken Circles

It's said that life's

     a circle full

Three hundred sixty degrees

But circumstances 

     sometimes

Cut the cycle to its knees

For those who are

     affected by

Such vagaries profound

Blindsided by

     floodwaters

In which the cycle drowns

Know that life

     is also kind

The circle made askew

Through nature's strong

     and healing touch

Will be restored anew.

Shared with One Stop Poetry for A Look At Rhyme by Gay Cannon, also known as beachanny. With thanks once again to Russell Crowe, who always provides inspiration.

Friday Flash 55

The Face of Darkness

I saw the darkness

and it saw me

It grasped me 

in blind, black fingers

holding me helpless

in unyielding grip

The darkness laughed

daring me to resist its will

smiling at my feeble efforts

to break free to light

It showed me its face

human in every conceivable way

My muse has been on hiatus or, actually, it's been held in restraints by time, or the lack thereof.  Feels good to get back to things.  This is being shared with the good folks over at One Stop Poetry for Friday Poetically, and with The G-Man at Mr. KnowItAll for Friday Flash 55.  Be sure you check both of them out.  Thanks for reading.

Haunted

Haunted

My light, disturbed sleep
Fraught with your vague, blurred image
Soft breath wakens me
No longer a yearned-for dream
Your spirit haunts my true realm


*This poem, my first attempt at the poetic form of  Tanka, is in response to Saturday Celebration at One Stop Poetry.

Heavenly Goddess

Heavenly Goddess


The moon imagined her hair
impossibly long,
a wild, icy white in the biting breeze.


Her piercingly blue eyes
aglow amidst the jungle
of wintry, white stars.


Pale, slender limbs
entangled in the heavens
as she pointed accusingly earthward


Denouncing her impotent subjects.
Holding them to burden
for her every shameless indiscretion.


 My entry for both One Shot Wednesday at One Stop Poetry and Day #5 of National Poetry Month at Not Without Poetry. With thanks to  Prompts For Writers for the words which inspired me.

Her Perfect Man

 

Shucking her robe

dressed only in heels and her perfect, gleaming skin

she gazed raptly, but calculatingly, at her creation.

Her perfect man.

She had brought him to vital, breathing life

only a brief week before.

Every night out since had been a dream.

Her perfect man.

No matter where she chose to go, what she chose to do

he was the ideal date.

Would, forever, be the flawless companion.

Her perfect man.

This evening would be no different

Another unmatched social event.

Her escort was already impeccably dressed

The only question remaining now-

Voicing her most immediate concern-

"What face shall I give him this evening?"

She had narrowed her choices to six

Perfectly aligned along the top of her bureau

all awaiting her final decision.

Humming softly

she filed her nails and considered

the possibilities before her,

pausing for a moment with a slight frown

to adjust the almost imperceptible

slant to his otherwise faultless bow tie.

Her perfect man.

*This poem was written in response to a prompt by Kirsty Logan at Not Without Poetry for National Poetry Month.

A Picture of Goodbye

Upon seeing you, the camera and I blinked once, collecting your pale, solitary beauty forever.  The bold, teal hue of your flower reflected the image of the resolute woman within, revealing your serene face, as well as the strength and courage in your eyes. Neither of us knew it would be the very last photograph.

*This story is my first foray into Flash Fiction 55, in response to the One Stop Poetry Sunday Picture Prompt Challenge at One Stop Poetry.  The picture prompt is by photographer and poet India Hobson.