My monsters have me cornered.
There’s nothing I can do,
But they’re so jumbly juicy
My teeth would gnaw them, too.
I’d like one buttered up to bite
While thinking thoughts real deep
So people think the stuff I write
Need not put them to sleep.
Oh, sure, I do get sleepy,
But they are getting near.
Monsters, monsters everywhere!
I’m cornered. They are here.
Linked to dVerse Open Link Night hosted by Grace.
For a future collection of nonsense called “Monsters, Monsters Everywhere and Not a Bite to Eat”.
Photo: “Fenced In or Out” by the author.
We are perspectives on what’s real.
We’re the ones who see it.
Anticipating what we’ll feel
While wintery fears conceal it.
Although it isn’t spring here yet,
Our fresh, green dreams will grow
And should despair let us forget–
Bright blooms somewhere will show.
Linked to dVerse Quadrille hosted by Kim from Writing in North Norfolk using “spring” as a prompt.
Photo: “Bright Blooms” by the author at the Chicago Botanic Garden.
The house I’m building in my head
Is either very small
Or big so it excludes no one,
An ark that holds us all.
But since I don’t know everything
And others would build, too,
That fancy house would have to be
Quite small–just what will do.
Linked to dVerse Poetics hosted by Sara McNulty with the prompt “DIY building”.
Photo by the author, “All of us fish in one pond”
We bathe in wonders. Some manipulate aspects of these aided by theories of gravity or electromagnetism. I try to stand tall with shoulders back so I can breathe deeply which keeps my heart open to resonate with Whatever. I step off the street and enter a dense forest trail. As I move deeper into the woods human sounds smooth out into hums softer than the crunch of my feet on last autumn’s leaves.
Walking this path, I intend to pay attention, but I miss almost everything.
When I choose not to enter some woods, it sprinkles me with thoughts of regret. If I do enter, but pay no attention to anything, I am still caressed. Someday I might understand the rapture of every creature like that of the worms as they return autumn’s mulch to the trees, but, right now, I can’t separate out those drops of this forest bath. I walk. When the path ends I feel refreshed.
WORMS WORK WINTER MULCH
RIVER DRAINS AWAY THE SNOW
FOOTSTEPS CRUMPLE LEAVES
Linked to dVerse Haibun Monday hosted by Toni aka kanzen sakura (www.kanzensakura.wordpress.com) who writes, “In 1980, the Japanese began a type of healing/meditation/relaxation process called shinrin-yoku (森林浴) or literally, forest bathing.” The prompt is to try this yourself and report on your experiences.
I take for granted the bright Moon
The way I do the Sun’s clear day
And should I find that someday soon
The Moon gets lost or towed away
Or popped above like a balloon,
Would I regret it couldn’t stay?
Linked to Saturday’s Image Write #5.
Image prompt by korinrochelle.
We’ve thrown so many things away
And lost so many, too,
But this one’s hanging on the wall
Reminding us when she was small
And what she used to do.
She drew a smiling figure
With ears and big, orange eyes.
With care she knew that she could dance
And lovers knew fulfilled romance.
We watched with proud surprise.
Linked to dVerse Poetics One Momento hosted by Mish.
Photo by the author
Some days my happy giggles don’t
Do what I want them to.
They hide because I’m feeling sad.
They hide because I’m being bad.
They hide because you think I might
Be someone who is not quite right.
That’s why we hide from you.
The “I” and “you” are imaginary. I just like speaking in the first person. One day I might collect these and call them “Confessional Poetry of Imaginary People”.
Linked to dVerse Quadrille #27 hosted by De Jackson (aka WhimsyGizmo) making use of the word “giggle”.
Photograph: “Birds Who Think I’m Quite Alright To Be Around” by the author.