Hanging in obscurity…

“Sell your cleverness and buy bewilderment. Cleverness is mere opinion, bewilderment is intuition.”
― Rumi


Day Twenty-two…

Hanging in obscurity
light and darkness gathers 
in a dance
of elements
colors scatter…

and the moon plays its part
by beaming
across the plains
holding onto dreams
of treasured remains…

an artists rendition
of radiance reborn
light envelopes
in whispered form…

and textures play
fusing with the skies
bewildered impressions

in darkness
luminosity streams
incantations of twilight

#wrappedinlight #darknesstriestohide

The Alphabet

Day Nineteen…



image courtesy of PixaBay

Fell again…

“Sometimes it takes a good fall to really know where you stand”
― Hayley William


Okay..day five, not really very good at this, but here goes…

So I picked myself up and fell again
the jagged rocks broke my fall
while attempting to ascend…

Nothing to recommend
feeling very small
so I picked myself up and fell again

in the depths, unrestrained
breaking into an easy crawl
while striving to ascend…

Lying there in the mayhem
nightmares I can recall
so I picked myself up and fell again

much of this I can’t explain
foolishness my downfall
I need assistance to ascend…

So I thought I should forget
at rock bottom waterfalls
then I picked myself up and fell again

waiting to hear the call, in doing I will transcend….




Swan Song

Day thirty….http://www.napowrimo.net/


“They say that all the swans in England belong to the Queen”…..

When she was just a little girl,
she wanted to take over the world.
They told her she wasn’t qualified,
with crocodile tears…she cried and cried!

She stamped her feet and went quite red,
and the Palace guards shook their heads.
“Whatever a Princess wants, she gets”
the Royal household placed their bets.

So they told her she could own every swan,
though the King felt rather put upon.
You do know she was Daddy’s girl,
the sweetest child with delightful curls.

To this day in her Queenly glory,
she recounts the same old story,
that swans were never really her thing,
she was just trying to vex the King!

I wonder who will be next in line,
to inherit this feathery goldmine?
Perhaps the Princes’ will draw straws,
or hand them over to some worthy cause!

Image courtesy of PixaBay

poetry month

Lost in translation

Day twenty-nine…..http://www.napowrimo.net/

far from the maddening crowd

“It is impossible to over-emphasize the immense need humans have to be really listened to, to be taken seriously, to be understood.”
― John Joseph PowellWhy Am I Afraid to Tell You Who I Am?

For Sylvia Plath….

I’m in a quandary,
I cannot interprete your words,
maybe “The Elm” beguils me with her knowledge!

Yet, I’ve been to the bottom, below the dark earth, to the tap root.
I know seas of dissatisfaction that thunder insanity,
I tell you its nothingness, mere trickery of the mind.

For although this dark place exists,
don’t consume your own poison,
don’t rain toxic thoughts.

Tell me, have I misunderstood you,
do you suffer the atrocity of sunsets?
Are they endings, I see them as beginnings!

It is only in darkness that love is a shadow!
Love is not an illusion, it’s within the soft flesh,
to be breathed in as your soul’s friend.

I will try to see beyond this darkness that echoes in you,
and engulfs your form.
I will try to understand you.

Let me tell you of the moon I see with different eyes.
Not a moon that drags me, or diminishes me,
but a moon that spills merciful light on me.

Let me hold you tenderly, when bad dreams possess you,
until your cry subsides. You can flap back to belonging,
Be not terrified of the dark thing that sleeps in you.

This may sound trite right now, in present darkness.
Look beyond this realm of knowledge, beyond malignity.
Use my rose-coloured spectacles…they work just fine!

Then speak again to me, in words I understand…


Return to sender….

Day twenty-eight…..http://www.napowrimo.net/ #postcards
a postcard from the edge

Mosi-oa-tunya………I’m not there….I’m right here aren’t I, scratching down words for twenty-eight days, racking my brain, hell-bent on finishing. Rummaging daily through my own garbage trying to pick out the sparkly bits, hidden in life’s debris, and sometimes only finding tokens….Right now I’d like to crunch my pen under-foot and make paper jets of these smudged words. Then I’d take the first flight out of here, to watch the moon rise over Devil’s cataract. I’d skid bare foot through the rain forest and swim to the very edge, like a daredevil, and if i fell in, I wouldn’t be at all surprised. Melancholy would dissolve on the green hotel lawns, as I lounged beside the pool, drinking Pina Coladas. But instead I’m baring my soul right here, hoping for some kind of cathartic experience or at least to rescue myself from hum-drum mediocrity. I’m no prisoner scratching notes on blank walls. I’m an adventurer on a quest to find myself, floating down the rapids, memories thundering over, clinging for dear life to the hope that one day I will get there……Ally


poetry month

how do i breathe

Day twenty seven…..http://www.napowrimo.net/

“Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise!”
― Victor HugoLes Misérables

tarrot card the sun

how do i breath                  you ask
through the lungs of God i say

how do i even stand
when hope
has passed away

i float on Angel wings
in sanctuaries of grace       the sun shines on my countenance
and bestows its healing rays

why do you even pray
when tears don’t evaporate
because i am alive           i say
and eternal love prevails

so in the deepest silence
even in a masquerade
how do i honestly breathe
please let the sun explain

the motion of the earth never passes away
trees and flowers obey
regenerating another day

how do i wake each day        when i am still afraid
how do tears dry
when i feel betrayed

the sun touches my window       its existence i can’t evade
and the universe tells me
there are no mistakes

so tell me                       how do you breathe
when life dissipates
with a grateful heart                i say
and what remains
i appreciate

because, in the sun’s light       i fly
to love that can’t be erased
and like the moon i reflect
each sunrise
i celebrate


poetry month