Rare

Experience, its
Give and take, become and fade,
The notes in music –
Words often casually said,
Hearts pumping until life ends.
How babies are born –
An exquisite beginning,
Treasures put away
Living with honor, without,
Every gift a price to pay.
Doors flung open, slammed,
All the beauty on offer,
Rare, how will life grow?
Hidden prostrate in shadow,
Standing rooted in delight.
Feeling leads; disappoints,
But sometimes it wakens light,
Giving all, full force,
Not worrying over failure;
How can love but now prevail?
A certain property
Of will blazes into light
Carrying life on
Even when there is sorrow enough
To quench, LOVE stands upright.

This I have, so I am here again.

Life For Life

A child in womb, life,
The reason to stand and fight,
A separation
Of purpose, but will to bear,
A child brought hopeful through fear.
Always devoted
Despite trials, battles, high costs
Give and give again
Because love is, does, happens,
Believes, continues, best makes.
Some days years later
When despair encroaches, sears
Body, mind leaving,
The child reaches out, calls to
Account, encourages life.
The realization
What is forged together can
Abide all hardship
Be a saving grace, carry
Forth the ones who will remain.
No other heart touches
The willingness to survive
Like one brought to life,
And unbreakably bonded
With endless familial love.

As a prompt, create something that reflects the dynamic of a significant relationship.

I am struggling with myself over continuing this practice. It seems I have little influence or impact, and despite that usually being a millennial concern, it is mine too. I fail to know if I should keep putting in the effort. I am fighting my crisis mode of retracting from everything.

It has been good being here while it lasted. All the best to all of you. May God bless you with prosperity, good health, and your fondest desires.

Dystopia

I have this feeling
Creeping up from my cold feet
I am staring back

Creases on my brow
Keep growing with dull repeat
Of the news, I hear,
There is a revolution
I am caught in it, the retorts.

People falling down,
I will go without any
Pressure, lightly push.

Ice rink roundabout
Skates slipping on fuming tears
Not frozen, hot blood,
Lust, love, what is answering
The donkey or howling mutt?

The limelight can burn,
Like a flambeau set too close
Taking down the tent.

Nothing matters here,
Except I never ignore
Love is the reason;
Gunshots are just a symptom,
Of the virus, the malaise.

Love paints the portrait,
Rebels cut it down, rubbish,
The ashcan again.

Who I am, you are,
No invoice, no guarantee,
Ticket, play the game,
Sometimes it all runs aground,
No one tastes Heaven, a loss.

Still, racers will chase
Heavy lathered off the track
No turn, going back.

Every day a death
The dream left alone, uncaught,
Walking in deep snow
Left hanging over water,
Because one end is not enough.

I found a Playlist that seemed to move me in a sorta way. Lots of Bowie in it, and he always turns my brain.

Maybe I will come back with something sweet. I hope you are well. If you like it here at Haphazard Creative, consider following the site, or returning as you will.

As a prompt, set up some music you seldom listen to, maybe from an earlier period, then let it lead you wherever you are taken. Create something.

Delivery

Sometimes I hurt so
It is like birthing babies
And I must have hope
When it is over, I will
Gain another greater life
Better than this one
Which withholds the victory
Just out of arm’s reach
Taunting me like false labor,
Taking, producing nothing.

2020.07.07 Park Tree Night rr

As a prompt, make beauty out of pain. Surely you have some of both lying around somewhere.

Thank you for visiting. If you found worth in Haphazard Creations, consider following, or returning when best suits you. There is lots of material here, and I dare say something for almost any mood.

I hope life finds you well and fortune smiles upon you. May peace be your comfort. God Bless.

Caress

At times a warm hug
Is a thing dearly needed
When the moth of fear
Eats at the fraying fabric
Of a too delicate life.
Doubt does not only
Live, within times of defeat
But in the between
Moments of brilliant success,
Mortifying in its cause.
When the door is just
Half-open, the crow loud caws
A whisper-snick is
Enough to rabbit away
All twitchy, knowing panic.
Dreams nurtured in arms
Roundabout, wrapping body
Some success calling
With kind assurance enough
To face whatever sequence.
Community calls
We, human creatures, wanting
Safety, confidence,
Significance, love, success,
Gifts of Creativity,
Expressed in society.

2020.07.05 Fireman Boots rr

I was asked who the
Heroes were, I took a moment,
“I don’t know their names,
But many of them wore boots!”