Let Me Live in Hope’s Sweet Shine

“I am pessimistic because I don’t trust history. But at the same time, I am optimistic. Out of despair, one creates. What else can one do? There is no good reason to go on living, but you must go on living. There is no good reason to bring a child into this world but you must have children to give the world a new innocence, a new reason to aspire towards innocence. As Camus said, in a world of unhappiness, you must create happiness.”   – Elie Wiesel, New York Times interview, April 7, 1981

 

 

There is no good reason to go on living
except that I find myself alive. My lungs
claim air, my thirst demands water, my
stomach food though my throat rebels.
I entertain the thought of death, oblivion,
dreamless dreams forever.
What stays my hand?

A wee flicker of hope in my black despair
a tiny spark, was it really there? A firefly
flash in the midnight blue then morning dawns
in  golden hues. The madness of grief
loosens it hold. I promise myself
one more day, then one day more…
Hope makes her stand.

 

adashofsunny Prompt Nights – When shades of loss weave with pattern of madness
prompt by Sanaa Rizvi

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Waiting for Richard

mindlovemisery Tell me so I can tell you prompt by Oloriel

“For the prompt, I want you to look at this painting (or the painting of your choice) and describe it to me: just simply describe what is there.
Try to not use any comparisons or excessive adjectives, or even imputing a personal opinion when describing the items. The idea is to list them and name them, in a way you see fit, in an order you see fit.”

 

still-life
*Image found HERE

 

Crab fresh from the sea, caught by Dinsby’s boy this morning, served on Richard’s mother’s blue ware. A nice contrast I thought, though she would have criticized my choice. A stand of lemons, one peeled, to squeeze upon the meat. A glass of buttery chardonnay pairs perfectly. Crusty bread and a side of mixed vegetables will be filling. Concord grapes, a simple, sweet dessert to cleanse the palate.

I stand back and view the tablescape. The butter knife, with its modern ceramic pattern is a bit jarring but Richard and I received it as a wedding gift from cherished friends. It adds a touch of home though we are far away. The only thing I add are his books and a tankard as a bookend. Perhaps after he has dined, Richard will read some poetry to me by the hearth fire’s warm glow.

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Rhythm of Life

imaginarygarden Following a Thread – Weekend MIni Challenge Imagined By
“The prompt today is to think of some narrative when writing your poem. Your poem does not need to directly tell a story–though it can–but whatever you write about, try to follow through on its thread; even let that thread lead you, though it may not have a clear sense of where it is going!”

 

We got it at the green stamp store.
Grandpa put a small shelf on the wall
in the living room and placed upon it
the black and faux gold clock. I would
watch the pendulum swing back and forth
unaware time was ticking away. I’ve learned
since the steady beat to life, faint, drowning
under the din of progress. Now,time flashes in
digital hubris, trendy fonts. One shape morphing
into another. But, rhythm keeps me grounded.
My clock sits on the bookshelf in my reading room.
Underneath the hum of air conditioning, TV
in the den, I can hear its steady, comforting tic-tic
setting the pace, reminding me I live one second
at a time. One secondhand lurch of being,
of possibility. Tic tic tic tic…

 

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One Second to Midnight

mindlovemisery Heeding Haiku With Chèvrefeuille
“This week I love to challenge you to create a haibun themed “departure” with a maximum of 100 words (including the haiku).”

 

I admire you gentle lady. We became friends, we wife of- mother of- the boy we both loved, both hurt by. I sat beside your bed last evening as you slept, shrunken, a diminishment, a petering out… Endings are like that. A thought half spoken, a mystery left unsolved, a breath indrawn and slowly expelled… I grieve for you while you yet live. Grieve for me at what will be.

Waiting for the light
to fade, the sparrow’s last song,
the winter’s long sleep

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(BUSSOKUSEKIKA)

imaginarygarden Sunday Mini-Challenge: Charms Imagined By
“For this mini-challenge write a short poem (10 lines or less) binding up a spell or charm for something that plagues some aspect of daily life. Invoke a depth or shade or deity of heart and cast it over an ailing. “

 

First, I’ll be a bird,

mourning dove is best, I think.

Then, I’ll gather sage

ignite it in a censer,

and fly the whole world over

diffusing healing and peace.

 

dove symbolism here
burning sage symbolism here

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I Believe

dverse Poetics: Wishful Thinking Posted by

“No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality. Even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream.”—Shirley Jackson, “The Haunting of Hill House”

 

I have a tiny seed of doubt
about the size of a mustard seed
that almost makes me not believe
in another world, invisible to eyes
that reside in concrete streets
and multi-storied towers, busy feet
always on the run, red light, green light
flashing stop and go, caution in between.

But, I’ve seen the flash of fairy wings,
dancing leaves in woods becalmed.
I’ve heard the giggles of water-sprites
by lazy trickling streams and hammering
of Tolkien’s dwarves echoing from caves.
I think, I’ve even heard some whiffling snores
of a fierce dragon in his safe enclave.

I’ve found the world is filled with wonder
when
you’re yearning to believe.

 

 

 

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In Any Language

adashofsunny Prompt Nights – We tend to smile in the exact same language – Sanaa Rizva

I don’t understand the words you say
and you can’t understand mine
it is so vexing to be in the dark
no light of comprehension, no sign
no pointing or gestures clear the way
for us plainly a way to convey…
then as I turn to go, a little bit dismayed
you smile at me so sweet, so shy
I give you a smile right back
and we hug a friendly goodbye.

 ↓

Check out this story here .

 

 

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