a woman’s body
no longer belongs to her
darkness has its day
Background photo: Wikimedia Commons ~ US Supreme Court (edited here)
(click image for larger view in new tab)
The Ultimate Abuse
Wade through the rhetoric,
read row after row
of 213 pages of propaganda,
and understand the abuse
not only of power
but of citizens living
in a male-dominated society
where personal welfare is ignored
and the potential of a death sentence
is imposed without any pretense
of a trial once petty politicians are allowed
to do so to maintain their dominance,
and ask yourself how you can be
proud to be a member of that society,
knowing that further changes
using the very same logic,
or lack thereof, will be used to erode
further personal freedom in the future.
The time has come.
A flame long lit rises higher
with each generation.
No longer meek
or following a creed
that dictates second-class status,
Do not ask me to refute this,
for I can not. Nothing will stop
their search for equality.
Its progress may seem slow,
but a blackbird in the wind
will still choose its course.
This is my response to Wordle 577 at The Sunday Whirl.
blackbird / flame / wind / time / cross / me / woman / meek / seem / creed / search / earth
Shared with OpenLink Night #319: Midsummer Edition! at dVerse~ Poets Pub.
fear of conformity
that keeps me from joining in
must minds be alike
to get along?
am i so different?
the same needs
a desire to belong
though not requisite
the mind’s obstacle
is that it
the fear of judgment
that holds me back?
fear of failure
all in my mind
This is my response to Poetics: When it comes to Peer Pressure,
the prompt from Sanaa at dVerse ~ Poets Pub.
Weather Doesn’t Wait
Thirteen times since early May, our weather has flirted with – no, made out with – temperatures of 90ºF or higher here in mid-Missouri. Since the beginning of the year, 83 days have had daily high temperatures that exceeded the normal range, with 4 record high temperatures set. All of this, while waiting for tomorrow’s start of summer.
weather doesn’t wait
for notes on a calendar
waiting for solstice
This is my response to Haibun Monday 6-20-22: Solstice,
the prompt from Frank Tassone at dVerse ~ Poets Pub.
Image: Black Shire Distillery, Hermann, Missouri 19 June 2022
Tucked out of sight beneath a rock ledge,
my kayak motionless on water
smooth as glass, I gaze from shadow
into light, spellbound by an aerial ballet
of swallows weaving around each other
as if choreographed in a performance
for an audience of one.
This is my response to Quadrille #154: Casting a Poetic Spell, the prompt from Sanaa at dVerse ~ Poets Pub, which is to use a form of the word spell in a 44-word poem (excluding title), with no required meter or rhyme.
The river flows and waves crest
in the wind. Wave tips shimmer,
return sunlight in kind,
heedless of my acceptance.
Thankful for the gift of light
on a cloudy day, a tree reaches
skyward without judgment,
offering a gift of its own.
Neither overcast day
nor cloudless sky holds
a promise meant to assuage
the concerns of one such as I.
I shared this poem with Open Link Night #318, June LIVE Edition at dVerse ~ Poets Pub, when I attempted to join the live video chat from a parking lot outside of my doctor’s office. That was a big failure, since my cell signal was almost nonexistent. To make matters even worse, I totally forgot to add it to Mr. Linky. However, the many fine poems that were linked are still available to read there.
Three of my poems, True Enlightenment, Measure of Grace, and Beyond These Waters, are featured in Well Versed 2022, published by the Columbia Chapter of the Missouri Writers’ Guild. The collection is available at Amazon, in both print and Kindle.
Shots ring out
It’s the cost of freedom
We get on our knees
Scrub to remove the stain
Ask for relief from the pain
This poem is my response to Twiglet #282: bleached silence.
The crash of calamitous
rainfall creates a beast of a river
that batters its banks.
Scoured by trees with trunks
twisted from their frail grasp,
gouged beyond recognition,
swallowed as waters rise,
the shores silently succumb
to a watery wasteland.
We wonder what will be left
when the waters finally recede,
the banks far from their former place.
This is my response to the prompt from Björn at dVerse ~ Poets Pub, Meet the bar with dissonance, where dissonance may add an unsettling emotion that may be crucial to describing unpleasant topics, perhaps by using harsh consonants, breaking up assonance with various vowels, etc. I’ve decided to use some harsh sounds and an excess of alliteration, as well as what could be an unsettling topic. I returned home from kayaking to find this prompt and thought, hey… why not?