Gatherings In

Our animals claim
Us for every moment shared
Then leave us only –
Broken, tearful, and lonely,
Because they became family.

***

Love is a wolf cub
Crying as its growth begins,
Howling when in need.

***

The darkest places
Only need a candle to
Bring them into light.

***

I counted all the things –
Realized what was most wanted
Could be found inside.

***

Know, nothing can stop
Those who believe impossible
Describes possibilities.

***

The woman who gives
Herself to others away –
Will need herself back.

***

Choose expenditures
With care as they determine
Future realities

***

The dawn swells before
It births into brilliant light,
Dispelling the night.

***

I imagine dreams
Of extraordinary things –
A life of love brings.

***

Two lives returning
To things once thought over, done,
Are newly begun.

***

Nothing unreal as
Doubt or fear can cause harm if
We refuse it room.

***

The roar of applause
Will hardly greet an entrance
But the wind may howl
With glee when outside we meet
Strangers making harmony.

***

I loved you from when
Until now and know somehow
I will love you then –
Loving you is forever,
Always, and with you again.

***

I do not know why
Rain reminds me of the time
When you were still mine.

***

I washed away stains
Left when the day departed,
The tears quite a waste.

***

If the sun’s light grows,
We must remember ourselves
Before love can show.

***

Broken building blocks
On the site of construction,
Foundation unsound.

***

We wanted to be
Living in each other’s skin,
But could not begin.

***

You bypassed my mind
Dove straight into the open
Space within my heart,
I became willing captive
Of your voracious desire.

***

They said, “You cannot,”
I flinched not believing it,
I continued to
Do whatever I could do –
No one can limit the truth.

***

These were haiku and tanka. I like counting syllables. It suits me, particularly with my relationship with arithmetic. Haiku are three lines 5-7-5 syllables. Tanka are five lines 5-7-5-7-7 syllables. If you have watched me a while, you might have noticed I join these in longe poems. I love a seven-syllable line, there is an endless possibility there. All this is play, just noodling, like doodles. It keeps me locked in time, that can be a challenge.

As a prompt, should you wish, write your own. Be warned, they can be addictive.

Looking, See

Every time I sing,
“Swing Low, Sweet Chariot,”
I am back in Elementary,
A class where I am the newest,
Not feeling the belonging.
A class where everyone stands
Hands to foreheads, looking over
Me, because I am Jordan, and
Being so shy, uncomfortable,
Wishing
I could disappear,
Never to return, suddenly.
Those words, words always,
The beauty, treasure of music,
A reflection in me, chasing me,
Now, every day I have become, am,
A creature of words, meaning, using
The tension between love, fear,
To live,
Alive, creativity,
Imagination in each moment
Wherever it is I may come to be;
I am a wordsmith, poet, magic,
Wielding a trusty pen, keyboard,
Against forces which might be happy
To see me silent, hidden, gone from
The fight, but I must still
Write.
It is who I am, delight.
Now you, do not quit, never
Give up, words transcend our
Troubles, they illuminate what
Must be acknowledged,
With words we start
To circulate the powers
Of goodness, kindness, generosity,
Love,
Into all those places where
Positive change can invade
Sending doubt, fear, darkness away.
So unleash your heart, soul,
Create,
Be courageous, bold, the world
Awaits our creativity to
Unabashedly unfold.

Breaking New

My sweet love, yes love,
We know it is forever,
If ever it be.

***

I thought you the best
But I had not seen the rest,
Still, you pass the test.

***

The glories of rhyme
I chase them all, every time,
Baby, hard to find.

***

You wonder about
Who I think I am, really,
Think it, being me.

***

There is need for sleep
There is creativity,
Sleep after I die.

***

Love is, I believe,
But love escapes my clutches;
It must remain free.

***

Sometimes I wonder
Was I born a poet, or
Did I catch thunder?

***

Time is a changing
I have no desire to spring
On forward. Why Ben?

***

Drinking water, man,
So tastefully plain and bland,
Coffee, turbo stand.

***

Not sure about this
But it is happening, so
Buckled for the ride.

***

Sometimes you cannot
See the truth of someone else,
They hide reality.

***

I have been experiencing a drought in the country of inspiration. It let go of a deluge after midnight. I was using the tablet. Sometimes it is a very wordy device. The only drawback is that I do not type on on-screen keyboards well.

When I got up, the tablet was completely dead. I never had that happen before. It has restored with charging.

I have continued this binge of writing and will doubtless share more of it. The remainder is in my journal.

Prompt: Try writing haiku, counted syllable poetry, counts: 5-7-5. These are very good warm-ups to other types of writing. It is a very old form and versatile.

Brief Perspectives – Blunt

My heart full afire
Aching with such great desire,
But hidden remains.

***

Adrift in oceans
Feelings of such depth complete,
Catching undertow.

***

Losing what matters,
Living becomes rigorous,
I must rescue me.

***

Comfortable safety
Challenging freedom gone wild,
Wolves nipping at heels.

***

Who stole the deep sleep?
It could not be a cheap creep,
No, a dream-like you!

***

When the darkness falls
It engulfs unseen places,
Who we may still be.

***

Swift the beating heart
Imagining what could be
Between written lines.

***

A broken needle,
Pine, collected in a shoe,
Quick must be removed.

***

Whoever we are
Often little changes much,
Except with God’s touch.

***

Isolation is
A boon when epidemics
Are loose in nations.

***

I have not known what to write today. It seems like nothing wants to rise up from the primordial soup of my brain. Therefore I turn to haiku, that stable medium that I can concoct out of nowhere.

Reading Harlot’s Ghost has brought me to reading some of the periodicals because the book is too heavy to comfortably walk with in my right hand. Reading Granta, Science, NYT, and National Review on the tablet. It is nice to read the current articles.

Working hard to disable ads on the tablet. Engaged developer mode, but having some problems still.

It was warm enough for short sleeves, even outside, which was a comfortable change.

I hope you have an excellent evening and find enjoyment it whatever you undertake.

Oddly Enough

Failure is sometimes
The reason for one’s success
Because giving up
Rarely appeals and we find
We try a little harder
Each time things do not
Go our way, we plan to do
Something different
Make it work another day,
And should it not, tomorrow
Offers a chance, too.
Failure is experience
Dressed in deep disguise,
We keep experimenting
Until our dreams work out right.