During Dark Hours

Going, going on,
Going, where are you going?
Can I go along?
Can I, with you, pretty please?
Going, going, don’t leave me.

*****

We read they were good
People, full of love and free
But they are all gone,
Seems another version of
People live where they used to be.

*****

2020 sees
Us, we are coping it knows –
What it plans, unknown.

*****

Poetry is hard
For AIs, grammar checkers,
Or maybe I am
More difficult than I ought
Be, I ignore some changes.

*****

Never give up, don’t
Stay on the ground once knocked down,
Keep climbing, reaching,
You are able, capable,
Be who you are when you dream.

Breaking Blocks

I cannot do it –
No writing today, no way,
There is emptiness
Where words usually stay,
I am a void, avoided.

The blockage, or drain,
Ruins my fingers, my brain,
Mushy like rubish
Heaped up, creation abstains,
Poetry, write it, insane.

Push the envelope,
Cover the paper, pages,
Somehow, I will, must,
Even if writing about
Stoppage is all I am able.

The gift fallible,
The commitment unstable,
Still the only way
To reach the long distant goal,
Be faithful to purpose, will.

As a prompt, if you are blocked or just need a subject, create something about being unable to work. It always seems to work for me.

Becoming Through

Some scars are deeper
Than upon elbows, knees, shins;
Never closing, healing,
Perhaps scabbed over only
To burst back open again.
We all have one, two,
Some more, a whole multitude,
Kept silent, hidden,
Or just below the surface
Often screaming to be heard.
Our scars define us,
In ways, we never intend,
But we can break free;
Grow into deep dignity
Send pain finally to flee.

*****

The first two lines of this came to me lying in bed, where I hoped to rest, but mostly did not because I ache. Yes, that is not proper and all sunny, but I am fighting right now like crazy. Ah, and speaking of crazy, it is not just physical pain. It is okay, though, as long as there is pain, I am confident I am alive.

It is not often something demands to be written. This did. I hope you are having an extraordinarily good week. Please stay safe, and remember, no matter what is now, your life is precious and has purpose and meaning. Thank you for taking the time to read Haphazard Creative. You may follow the site or come back as you can if you like. If you have a comment to share, that would be super.

As a prompt, create work about something that tracks the edge of acceptability or slips on over the line.

Snaps

From mist, a riot,
An explosion of color;
Life, sudden focus.

*****

A rope smack smacking
In rhythm to twisting hands,
Feet jump, slap pavement.

*****

The water was warm
Dusty olive magic, see,
I could from in it
Rise upon a ski, letting
Go a world unclear to me.
I sang to water
Air, ski, knowing my safety
How free then was I
From any hearing, judging,
Me, able to be once, free.

*****

As a prompt, memory is a marvelous tool. Look back and remember, create from out of what used to be. You can go to yesterday, or your distant past.

Thank you for visiting Haphazard Creative. Please follow the site or come again when time allows.

I hope you have a great week.

So…

I do not get much personal mail, as I expect is true of most everyone in these times. One of the friends I know online, who is a Facebook friend, wrote me a postal letter that persuaded me to return to social media. I am still of the opinion that I may remain less engaged than in the past, but there is the thought that my posts may have some small positive influence driving my presence.

You do realize,
Of course, your words and actions
Have consequences.

*****

Life is strange, it gives,
Furthermore, it takes away;
Nothing ours to stay,
The hours rushing ocean waves –
We, notes, on a tide-swept beach.

*****

No fear, I shall not
Fear, though the darkness over
Shade every hour, day,
I know He is with me here
My Lord, God, who holds me near.

*****

The lightning rockets
Across the deepening dark sky
Sending doubt to fly.

*****

What you cannot know
Will never be clearly told,
Your high castle holds.

*****

Not a rehearsal
Love is the fully played act,
No turning away
Once your hand is dealt, your heart
Is invested, no free flight.

*****

Hiding who we are
Is opportunity for
Misunderstanding.

*****

I take my heart down
From the hidden jar to place
It here where you are,
Will you take it, do you dare?
Hearts are most precious to share.

*****

The sleep mocked me
Taking the sun far away,
Giving night for day.

*****

The chocolate is
Gone, ah dears, how shall we all
Happily go on?

*****

The music danced its
Way into every sad place,
Brushing tears away,
Calling, “Life is now present,
Follow love and be most gay.”

*****

Any art is just
An attempt to clarify
Love’s sweet majesty.

*****

And I can do these on and on, so rather than bore you, I shall stop in my tracks, getting back to the book I am enjoying and allowing you your day. Find yourself some happiness before it slips, sliding away into another day.

Again, the prompt is to write haiku and tanka. I give you enough examples, you should understand what to do. Haiku are counted syllabic poems of three lines consisting of 5 – 7 – 5 syllables. Tanka are five lines with syllable counts of 5 – 7 – 5 – 7 – 7.

I tell you now, each of you is a blessing, a unique precious gift given by the Creator to impact the world in your own individual way. Cherish who you are, for you are a miracle designed for greatness. Your light outshines every star and sun. Love, for love, is who you are.