No Hearts, Ashes

I trace my steps through time,
In the fabric of my mind,
Seeing every one misplaced,
Which bought me this, my fate.
Yet, knowing, I could scarcely –
Change what action wrought,
Over time, without some miracle,
Not given thought, to be mine.
I offered what I am and who
But would not be accepted,
For the progression of others
Recollected over years who
In near perfection, which now
Cannot be laid aside because
Time jealous contains its magic –
Until certain days flow past.
My steps thereby slowed apace,
Each one wary and carefully placed
That I might avoid entrapment
In the boggles, bungles of love –
Life’s treacherous quicksand.
Still, I love, remain with hope –
Not intruding; quiet, deep enduring,
But always willing, a phoenix to rise.

Future Turning

Today, as here it stands,
May be a day different
Than our buoyant hope,
Or even resilient want.
To address it with our best
We may need to lay hands
Upon the selves we cherish,
Calling out a presence before
Undiscovered, unrecognized.
The quiet fortitude barely known
May stand us good stead through
Hours we otherwise could scarce
Share or even envision to be.
No fearsome ancestor could
Reveal the complications
Suddenly become a reality,
Humanity a bit further than
Itself has gone, so now we catch on.
Dreams, hardly hidden shimmer
With creative promise to emerge;
We walking briskly forward, ready,
Assuming the future ours to consume;
This moment belongs to us,
Who bravely overtake what was,
Reaching beyond ourselves to greatness.

Prompt: The pandemic, quarantine, has changed many things. Likely, we will never go back to what was. Create something that goes forward with all the colors of experience you can manage.

Always Grateful:
Writing survives.
Books entertain, inform, carry me on.
I caught some extra quiet today.
The cuckoo clock that calls me to attend to time.
Tribble and Wookie force me to go outdoors.

Thank you for visiting. If you wish, follow methods are in the sidebar. Your comments, likes, shares, suggestions, and thoughts are fantastic encouragement.

Everything on Haphazard Creative is ©Jo Ann J. A. Jordan.

Learning, Living

Beginning: I was love,
Softness in words, deeds,
Meeting incessant needs.
Time taught: The world,
A hard place to fall;
My mistakes, misdeeds
Caused cruel stinging pain.
Learning: Reading, writing,
Were who I quickly became.
Maladies: Kept home, taught
A body could be a traitor.
Determination: A semblance
Of the best salvaged from rest.
Passions: Love came easily
For music and dance,
Building stories better than my life,
Writing poems at every chance.
World: Water was my element,
I flirted with the hungry magic –
Of fire, at many campsites.
School: Lessons were not hard,
I studied gruelingly, but kids,
Were often less than kind,
I hurt but pursued devotedly,
A well-educated mind.
Romance: When invaded,
I embraced it and have
Never really let it go,
I have loved occasionally,
And lost much the same,
Only bits of my heart
Have remained with those
Who my passion claimed.
Tragedy: I learned a mind
Could be shattered and
After, rearranged, though
Never working quite right;
Certain God does miracles,
And pieces can be fashioned –
Into something precious, if
One lives long enough to grow.
Mission: I try to learn how to
Illustrate lessons I come to know,
Loving those who cross my path
But I often mess up on the way;
I tried, learned it is okay to be me.

I wrote the poem above in my journal. It was much different.

As a PROMPT: Take something you have created, either long past or recently, and do a critical and exhaustive reworking. I usually say calm and ignore your inner critic, but you should allow it out to play at this time.

GRATITUDE:
Time spent on the phone with my son, Alex.
My being an editor.
My ability as a writer.
WordPress: It saved my MSN Spaces blog by transferring it to Chronicles.
I woke up early enough to put the Explorer out of the rain so the leak would not cause problems.

You know the drill, do as you will.

Everything on Haphazard Creative is © Jo Ann J. A. Jordan, please consult me for permissions.

Was A Moment

Silence covered us
Holding us together, apart,
In space, time, open
To the music between
In keeping with unexpressed
Feelings labeled – undefined.

Nothing spoken, no touch,
Could move our share much;
All ladled like soup,
Into bowls flowing with steam
Passion below the surface
Squeezed with covers of wild dream.

Part and portions given, real,
Misunderstanding enough to feel,
Fully gratified, satisfied,
Betide passion and wanting
To enter whatever door disclosed
Shores where love reigns supreme.

A moment came which presented
The possible opportunity of knowing,
Choices appeared positive
But somehow, the mistakes made
Evaporated certainty like raindrops
Refracting from Summer pavement.

What was ours became ethereal
A band, solid but impermanent
As lightning across an azure sky,
Characters who played out
Emotions for which we never paid,
However, memories we cannot mislay.

Prompt: Create something relating to a past time invested with lots of emotion.

Gratitudes:
The day is closing.
Nothing terrible happened.
I figured out why my devices were not writing to SD cards.
It was warmer.
Memory can be a great escape.

Thank you for coming by. Comments, Likes, Shares, Suggestions are all requested if you have time and inclination. Ways to follow are in the sidebar. I hope you have fun on the downslide of the week. God bless.

All this is © Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

The Well, Prepared

Situation Playcation – © Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Writing is the thing that teaches us to understand the experience we cannot command or comprehend. Living is a riot, constant impressions, wild digressions, unbanished obsessions, mythic approximations, and passionate exhibitions.

Love is real, no poetic fairytale; it sometimes bites with destructive force. There are other times it breathes life back into a being near become a cold, bloodless corpse. Heedless, love carries headless need into ages where hearts aflame assuage the blame for falling again.

I.
When what you most want
Remains beyond ability
You become adept
Using CREATIVITY
To fulfill some hopes and dreams.

II.
I am not ideal
But being real is enough
For those loving me.

III.
I have discovered
The wild child passionate self
Does exist still.

IV.
I could sing you blue,
Golden, or bright rainbow hues;
I would disappear
In the arrangement of notes,
Unrecognized within you.

V.
Love plays, tackling us,
In fields where flowers obey
Injunctions to fade;
We are colors resisting
What makes delight history.

Prompt: Create something showing how writing or art rescue from the forgetfulness of greedy insanity.

Thankfulness:
No television to distract.
Productiveness.
Moleskine.
Love.
Creativity.

I am glad you found Haphazard Creative. In the sidebar, there are three methods to follow the site. Utilize one of those, or come back when your life allows. Any comments, likes, shares, suggestions, or thoughts are welcome. When you interact with creation, you impact lives.