Wisps of fleecy clouds
Do not mar a summer sky
They define the blue
Gift me with crinkles
Life’s perfect imperfections
Memory’s index
Smile with abandon
Frown without retribution
Claim each earned wrinkle
Category: Haiku
Inanimate Objects
Barely scratched surface
Patina’d revelation
More than meets the eye
Mischievous metal
Scavenger of carrion
Vulture in waiting
Stacked terra cotta
Patient bare receptacles
Filled with potential
No
I lost the answer
Never mind the question asked
I’m positive now
Seek affirmation
If it makes you feel complete,
Yet “no” is freeing
Nyet, nein, I forget
Foreign words all feel the same
Like two negatives
Columns
What will hold us up
When the columns have crumbled?
When the pillars fall?
We took for granted
Truths that no longer hold firm
Cracked foundations all.
Will we then be rocks?
Stanchions raised in proud protest,
Resistors indeed!
Broken
Broken promises
Blithely said; soon forgotten
Whispered entreaties
Living with liars
Broken souls who breed despair
Seek refuge in truth
Hiding in plain sight
Limping behind tight, sad smiles
Broken hearts still beat
The Sewing Circle
The Sewing Circle
by Leslie Noyes
Friends of a feather
Gathered closely together
Nimble fingers poised
A work in progress
Stitches in red, white, and blue
Most, perfectly spaced
“Janis, there’s a hitch
In the shape of your last stitch.”
“No, that clump is trump.”
Facade
flawless illusion
reality intervenes
eroded facade
behind the bright mask
uncovered with a flourish
truth cloaked alibis
one fine victory
a fallacious feast for eyes
gives what isn’t seen
The word “facade” is another I ploddingly mispronounced for many years. Until I was 16 or so I thought it was /fu•kāde/. I’ll tackle “docile” next.
Peace, people!
Daily Prompt: Flames
A Death in the Family
She lived a good life
Protected and nurtured us
Now lost forever
Yet birds keep flying
The sun continues to shine
Heedless of her death
Our grief is immense
Life, though, continues apace
While this old world turns
I’ve been asked repeatedly today how I feel about Trump winning the election. Truthfully I feel like there has been a death in my immediate family. Ultimately I know we will be alright, but right now I’m experiencing a deep grief.
I spent a sleepless night in which my thoughts circled relentlessly like a dog chasing its tail, and I recalled reading Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’s book, On Death and Dying, in which she introduced the five stages of grief:
- denial,
- anger,
- bargaining,
- depression, and
- acceptance
From my psychiatry courses in college (where a little knowledge can be a dangerous thing) I remember that one can cycle through these stages in a variety of ways unique to each individual.
I ran through denial pretty quickly. The numbers were there. And while it was heartening to note that Hillary won the popular vote, Trump undeniably took the electoral college votes.
Anger is my current companion. I’m not angry at Trump or his supporters so much as I’m angry at their willful ignorance. They don’t care that he has no real plans to implement his policies. They like him because he’s not a career politician, and he isn’t politically correct.
I’m angry at the registered voters who just didn’t show up. I’m angry at those who used their votes to protest by voting for non-viable candidates. I’m angry at the subtle and sometimes not-so-subtle voter suppression tactics that were employed in several states.
I can’t imagine there’ll be much bargaining involved, but depression is anger’s little sister and I’m going to do everything in my power to avoid going down that rabbit hole. Today I smiled at everyone I saw and hugged a woman at work who supported Trump. Little steps.
Acceptance? That’s going to take awhile. But I won’t be like those conservatives who disrespected President Obama and actively rooted for his failure these past eight years. I’m going to support Trump as our president while continuing to fight for the rights of all those living in our country: health care, reproductive rights, racial and gender equality, etc.
I know other bloggers have addressed this much more eloquently than I, but I think the healing starts when we lay it all on the line. This piece was part of my healing process. Maybe it will help someone else along the way.
Peace, people.
Ennui
Every time he sighed
She heard, I’m through loving you
He meant, I’m so lost
Ennui so intense
That his desire to do naught
overtook boredom
He lives in grey tones
Avoiding the bright facades
Embracing nothing
Ennui is one of those words that I chronically mispronounced for much of my life. Most avid readers will understand this. We come across a word with which we’re unfamiliar and discern its meaning from context without ever bothering to stop and look up the correct pronunciation. For many years I mentally said, “in you ee,” rather than “än wē.” Sometime soon I’ll address “facade” and “docile,” both of which I mentally mispronounced.
Praying for Eyebrowz 