Cred

Tonic

So many snippets
Stream through windows of our minds,
Frantic squirrel-like the acorns we hide
Unattached – space, time,
Carrying subtle music
It flows; we nearly catch it.
Upon fragrant air
An idea, oft thought, lingers
We may become more
Should we step beyond the door
Appearing as choice – before.
Have we only this
To treasure, a muffled line
Not aptly spoken
Shedding meaning left behind
Past, present, future, equal.
Us, we, a people
Seeking love without measure
To give life purpose, pleasure
When dreams lose cause without hope
Promises then made, broken.
Lives come forgiven –
Things acquired for which we strive,
But funds slip away
Leaving emptiness still ours
Loneliness star cast
A role to play – until hands
Reaching hands lead onward, love.
All come now peaceful
Like fog on morning pathway
Leading to an ease
Reconciliation frees
Who we can be here, agrees.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Unnoticeable

Some people mention
Elephants in these rooms –
I do not see even one,
Though there was a platypus, once.
No, there are pastel pink
Balloons, buoyant,
Perhaps lifted by the warmth
Of fat jar candles burning – fiercely
casting shadows and reflection.
The mirrors hardly notice
Any of this as each ponders
A presentation less often seen
than, the naked boardroom
Dreams spreading shock and awe
Into the adrenaline wakefulness
Where fear drowns pregnant
with crystal-shattering screams.
An open window vacuums
The bubblegum balloons toward
What near, the beyond, outdoors holds;
Pedestrians pause to take in
Doves serenading in the park.
Maybe an egret at the lake
would like the elephants
I have not seen on extraordinary
Days that pass yodeling about
A damsel once viewed, just a face,
in transit
Imaged in a cotton candy balloon.
Ah, but how all float away –
The past into centuries, the present
heading by, behind with the wind,
tomorrow a vision maintaining itself
Just a little forward, never to be caught;
and the cherry pop balloons
Go to where it is unknown, exist or burst,
Once they were and how they did rise.
My room is lonely now
And I surmise, alone is mine –
Dancing with balloons was and is
Another moment, given time.

Near Miss

Death
Threatened
In those glasses
Too many,
Unknowingly –
Thought safe
Enough.
So often called
Demon Rum,
Admittedly,
The name is not
Wrong –
But apt.
Life stealing,
Jerking
Into the throes
Of sickness,
Damnable –
In its viciousness.
Recovery, tortoise
Slow demanding
Sleep,
More,
More.
The palate seared
Stomach destroyed
Nevermore –
Not ever to try
Again, to find
Some
Consolation in
Contents of
A reflective
Bottle.

Meaning

The definition
Of ourselves is uncontained
Though we trip over
Who we believe ourselves to
Be on ordinary days.

If we could see who
We are beyond the mirrors
The definition
Of our beloved desires
Might become fit for ourselves.

We may know our worth
Only told in lightning flashes
Suspended briefly
The definition above
Our limits of faith, knowledge.

Cool, cool, the water
We bathe over minds aflame
Trying to search out
A purpose, reason, needed
To give life definition.

Over a lifetime
We may find God, the Living
Definition, all
Understanding given us
Proving life miraculous.

In this poem I made each stanza in the form of a tanka. If you notice I like to do this often.

As a prompt, use a form or pattern to create a work. Adapt whatever you choose to your use.