Out of Touch ~ ekphrastic

Out of Touch

“I thought of the future, and spoke of the past.”
                         Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany’s

Through a haze that erases
possession and masks potential,
where is the horizon?

I grasp but find nothing.
There is no satisfaction
in what is denied.

Past and future out of reach,
the present slips away
with each passing moment.


This is my response to Eugi’s Weekly Prompt – Unbounded
and the photo that is provided.
It also responds to Poetics: Breakfast at Tiffany’s, although it is outside of the window to link it at Mr. Linky. (other responses here). That prompt from Linda Lee Lyberg at dVerse ~ Poets Pub provides several quotes from “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” for inspiration.

memories, the only present ~ gogyohka

  Image copyright
David, The Skeptic’s Kaddish

 

distance, measured in time
always out of reach
in the future lie possibilities
in the past, all that is unobtainable
memories, the only present

This gogyohka is my response to  Colleen Chesebro’s #TankaTuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 274, #Ekphrastic #PhotoPrompt, where we are asked to write any form of syllabic poetry (including gogyohka), inspired by a photo provided by David, The Skeptics Kaddish.
The photo is of David’s father who is gone, but always present in his heart.

As the World Turns – ekphrastic poem

As the World Turns

What rises from this wheel
is at the mercy of the hands that shape it.

Will there be traces of the elements
that go into its making?

Or will the making remove the traces
of all that came before? Will it rise,

or will the hands that determine its future
crush all that lies within in it,

like tanks rolling across a border
that means nothing to those hands?

This poem is my response to The Sunday Muse #200, which offers ten of the top viewed prompt images of the last four years. When I used this image last year it was for a love poem. The current invasion of Ukraine by Russia sends my thoughts in a different direction.

 

That Final Destination

That Final Destination

That Final Destination

(right click image for larger view in new tab)

The beauty held in the far horizon
cannot be gauged until it is experienced.
There is no chill in the unknowing,
only an awareness of heights scaled
and heights waiting to be achieved,
the warmth of their intrinsic value.

Light or dark, each moment
along the way brings me closer
to enlightenment, the hindsight
to reveal the gift within each moment,
in that moment when all fog is lifted.

This poem, with 99 syllables, is a response to a challenge at The Carrot Ranch, which was to write prose of 99 words or a poem of 99 syllables, inspired by the provided photo (above). Although I inadvertently submitted an earlier draft of 98 syllables, the challenge was for a worthy cause, which was to raise funds to assist Sue Vincent with expenses incurred as she struggles with her illness. The entire collection of responses can be found here.

The Waiting Portal ~ #writephoto

The Waiting Portal

Never far,
yet always distant.

Darkness or light?
What is the relevance?

Some questions
remain unanswered.

Obscured perception will
one day open to distinction.

What lies beyond?

KL Caley has taken over as torchbearer for the photo challenge started five years ago by Sue Vincent. This poem is my response to Beyond the Door – #writephoto Renewal, which uses the first photo used by Sue in her challenge.

Serenity’s End ~ #writephoto

Serenity’s End

The heartache of our final moment shared,
at a distance greater with each passing second,
cannot be denied. You, nearing the horizon,
on a sea of sadness as I watch under a gray sky
bluer than any we have known together.

This is my response to Thursday Photo Prompt: Serenity #writephoto,
from Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo, with her photo.

Also shared with Open Link Night #273 at dVerse ~ Poets Pub.

Secret Beach ~ with audio ~ #writephoto

Secret Beach

Silence in the sounds of nature,
my footsteps just another element
lost in the whoosh of waves
on this, my lone companion,

a deserted beach not so deserted.
Seclusion amidst the raw edge of nature,
a hundred gulls the voice in my ears.

Removed from myself in this isolation,
the silent voice of my thoughts
surrounds me, a greater force
of freedom craved, achieved.

Ever-changing, from tranquil to wrathful,
from granite gray to aqua, this beach,
this enigma, is as uncharted as my life,
never knowing what lies beyond the horizon.

Here, I am myself,
unquestioned, unchallenged
as I think, consider, compose.

Inspired by and distilled from “My Secret Beach,” by Keith Hillman, at Keith’s Ramblings. Thank you to Keith for graciously allowing me to post this poem.
Please visit the original, here.

This also serves as a response to Thursday Photo Prompt: Glisten #writephoto,
from Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo, with her photo.