Ever So…

My house is somewhat
Unacceptable, a mess,
But it is also
Home, where I can be, do, dream,
The magics living inside.
I have my treasures
Which no one else so measures,
But they keep me here
On Earth where it is hard to
Want to be sometimes for me.
I am alone here,
But my house delivers welcome
When I need holding,
All life encapsulated
In this home where I create.
My body, my home,
Tattered, threadbare, torn, worn, wraps
Me into this living
All the pain, I overcome,
My house shelters, helps, supplies,
It is so peaceful
Here within these careful walls
The dogs and I are
Safe and have space enough to
Enjoy being within my house.

The prompt at Prompted Positive Poetry today is “My House.”

Lucky?/Unlucky?

Sometimes we believe living
Alone is an unlucky state,
All the hype feeds our conception,
It is accurate for some, at times,
But being alone can give space/time
To discover the self, independent,
Outside the other with only one
To know we are adequate and find
The purpose of who we have become;
Sometimes it takes being by ourselves.
We stare in the mirror and see our
True reflection, not the projection
Filtered through other eyes with
All the bias contained in another
Mind which may be doing calculations
We cannot see in our recasting,
Addition/Subtraction, Multiplication/Division
Are always trickier when someone else
Does the equation, maybe in the work
We miss important steps or carries.
Even if being alone is extremely temporary
It can give us insight that leads us
To be the better persons we wish to be
Giving us desire and passion to
LOVE
Infinitely better than we ever have before.

Tuesday’s prompt for the PAD Challenge on Poetic Asides was Lucky/Unlucky. I got some rocket fuel (Coffee), which I usually avoid, and so I have developed this poem.

Strength

Quiet pours down, light
As the lock of hair
Grabbed and swirled round
Index finger and thumb;
Numb, numb, wilted
In the stifling of late day
March heat, barely able
To forego the house,
Walking buoyant dogs
Whose muscles ripple
Like a wake under sinew.
Ensconced uneasy in bed
Never invalid, never stop,
But the strength, it erodes,
Still, that is a no; push, go,
Various ways to give the ankle
Purchase to convey upright
This reason that is a being
Unwilling to acquiesce to
Anything against progress
Fighting always pain, doubt, fear,
“Begone, leave this one be. Strength
Remains, life retains, love stokes
The vision, all abides, stand – over-ride.”

The Prompted Positive Poetry prompt for today was “Strength.”

Driven to Prosperity

“Live long and prosper,” quoth Spock,
As I sit on a tan imitation leather sofa
Watching a small black & white television
With the minty smoke of Daddy’s KOOL’s
Wafting around me like misty swamp fog.
“Forgive them,” He said, “for they know not…”
My parents bought an air conditioner after
Being told I would die without I had one,
But cigarettes, he did not know, at least maybe.
“Live long and prosper,” quoth Spock,
I wish his Vulcan self could have intervened,
Kept me safe when all my books were scattered
Over the pavement of the street and I was
Knocked entirely off my feet almost daily,
I got a suitcase for the books because damaging
Those hurt me in a way I cannot explain,
But I said nothing to justify the scrapes
Usually, I tried to limit the sight of my body.
“Live long and prosper,” quoth Spock,
His words were encouragement enough to try
Picking myself up repeatedly and pushing hard
To learn, learn, learn, I kept my mind in hiding
It could not be bullied, abused, stopped, turned,
It was a well-tuned engine fueled by possibility
And every particle I gathered and consumed
Made my hunger and thirst grow for something
Further, rarer, richer, deeper, more.
Prosperity only measured by my constant
Cultivation of the thriving garden of knowledge
Gained in a quest, I maintain even to today,
To live long and prosper without cowering again.

Poetry

I did not think I would find it in me to do any more work today. I am not well settled with myself, and I am sorry if it disturbs you to know this. Worry not. Days are challenges, always, just some tear at me worse than others. I was reading and realized a poem wanted to be. For me, when the words shimmer and trill, I better busy myself, or I will be more ill than ill. So be it…

Poetry

The graceful leap of ideas –

Casting lures aptly baited
With irresistible word
Gathered, (stolen), from dragon hordes
And memorized vocabulary of
Spelling Bees.
Late nights, (early hours), spent
Flashlight reading
Under covers fresh warm surround,
Pouring over dictionaries, encyclopedias,
Maps, travel brochures, thesauruses,
As many as would be found.
Studying Bible verses and ancient poets
Until meaning is engraved on who one is,
Seeking images, highlights, making
Adventure in every visited space,
Harmonies, lyrics, melodies lightly stored,
Every experience questioned, explored,
Each day providing, proving mystery,
Reasons, motives, dissected, laid bare.
Love throughout it all, yet doubt, fear,
Dual vines growing untempered,
But love more potent than any adversary
Filling heart, mind, soul with those
Sensibilities needed to become complete –
Writing the poems acquired for the desire
Of the choosing to sufficiently compete.

An instrument, malleable, beloved
Desiring to encourage, inspire, love,
Through the application of gifts.

I am most fortunate. There is much for which to be grateful, many graces we never realize. It is my hope that all of you remain safe and well. That you take this time while some things take a time-out to renew relationships and do some of the things you often don’t but enjoy.

Maybe the lesson for us is appreciation, sometimes we are so caught up we lose sight of blessings. Gratitude is a beautiful way to honor love and life.

Create. Creativity is destiny.