What do you seek? I see so many, often women, seeking to find something to make them special, or beautiful. We so often feel 'too much' and 'not enough' all at the same time... Real Toads this week is a challenge to celebrate the feminine, and whilst it is true that many of us struggle with the concepts in my poem, regardless of gender, I do wish to speak particularly to the ladies amongst us with this one... Please read here and then check out the other poets at Real Toadshttp://withrealtoads.blogspot.ca/ too.
Linking to dVerse to share my take on those concepts, so please read here and then read more at my favourite pub. :D
The Seeker
She sees herself as a complex web of contradictions
desperate to dance beyond the mundane
seeing deeper, hearing whispered rhythms
woven through life’s song
She longs to walk the fringe of an aurora
Lit with their fire, wordlessly enraptured,
until she becomes sheer colour
woven beyond sight’s spectrum
She fears to share her most intricate thoughts
holding them close, cradled like newborn heads
as though they would snap-
woven on words’ unsteadiness,
If only she knew
the precious light she’s looking for
is not hidden in the moon’s insipid blotches
woven in the world’s earthbound echoes
It is shimmering there, unfurling in her heart.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
On the Street
I have missed my weekly visits to the pub at dVerse - I always enjoy the company there and the excellent verse. This is my drink of choice for this evening - but don't stop here: there are many excellent brews waiting in the cool, comfortable interior of the bar. Thanks, Hedgewitch, for hosting this evening!
On the Street
Her very being offends
Cheap perfume mingles with the
poison snaking from sneering lips
hatred glittering from coal-dark eyes
there just isn’t enough material
in that skirt –
there just isn’t enough respect
in her life
Don’t stop, in your smugly manicured self-absorption
don’t stop to ask why
don’t try to hear past the heavy-lidded obscenities
to listen to the soul of what she’s saying
don’t try to see past the heavily painted surface
to see the creature caged within
You might see someone you know -
You might see yourself.
On the Street
Her very being offends
Cheap perfume mingles with the
poison snaking from sneering lips
hatred glittering from coal-dark eyes
there just isn’t enough material
in that skirt –
there just isn’t enough respect
in her life
Don’t stop, in your smugly manicured self-absorption
don’t stop to ask why
don’t try to hear past the heavy-lidded obscenities
to listen to the soul of what she’s saying
don’t try to see past the heavily painted surface
to see the creature caged within
You might see someone you know -
You might see yourself.
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