My newest adventure is underway. It has lead me to take up residency in a new blog,
Like the Feathers of an Arrow (affectionately known as LFA).

...don't open...don't throw away... is not disappearing completely (not yet),
but postings here will be limited.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

0 Kiss

cascade down
leaving wavy paths;
glistening trails of sadness
at the corners of a frown
longing for the taste
of someone's

my latest trek into new poetic form has taken me into a variation of a Oddquain--this poem would be classified as a Butterfly Oddquain.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

2 Right Before My Eyes

She sat at her desk.  Her chair turned to the side as she gazed mindlessly out the window.  The music playing in the background seemed to seep into her soul.  Grace, her secretary, had been kind enough to leave her alone today by diverting calls and handling the emergencies with ease.  Another sigh escaped her lips as she watched the rain fall from the heavens.  It felt has though her brain had ceased to exist, forget about working since yesterday.  She felt so a drift.  The music broke through the veil of depression that coated her.  Reba's unmistakable voice assaulted her across the room, "...this whole house needs a love revival, a love revival, up in here...."

A soft scornful laugh escaped her lips.  "It a little late for that," she mumbled to herself.  She leaned back in the chair and rested her head.  Her gaze focused on a small little crack in the paint on the ceiling.  Silently she cursed herself for being so stupid.  If she had paid the slightest attention....  If she had just opened her eyes and looked....  It wouldn't have taken any extra effort on her part to see the signs.  Now it all seemed so plain.  She had been so blind.  Her eyes closed as she began to think of all of the small subtle signs that had she been paying any type of attention to she would have seen and maybe been able to change the demise of her marriage.

After seeing this weeks words for Three Word Wednesday [3WW=>demise, effort, revival], the first thing that came to mind was Reba McEntire's song Love Revival.  The second thing that came to mind was an old poem (see below) that spoke to the demise of a relationship.  Given those two separate, yet strangely related thoughts, it took little effort to bring this contribution to life.

--Subtle Signs
An empty pillow lay beside my head
the covers flat and still
my heart longing
for the time when they were filled
So content was I with someone by my side
Subtle changes lay overlooked and ignored
the brushing of my hair from my face
the peck on my forehead as I lay fast asleep
the reaching for my hand under the restaurant table
the glance and smile from across a crowded room
the giving of a flower from out of the blue
the outstretching hand as my door opened
Gestures which stopped
as he faded away
The signs were clear as day
I just did not wish to see
his love leaving me

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

0 Quinzaine: Caring

Caring is overrated.
Why should I bother?
Do you care?

I no longer wish to care.
Will it hurt less if
I don't care?

i suppose the theme for today's quinzaines are a tad depressing. i really need to start working on raising my happy meter.

0 Peacefully

She sleeps so peacefully, yet not at all
the world seems to stop, slip away, and fall
disappearing right in front of my eyes
threatening to tare away my disguise
     Why does everything suddenly seem small?

Time ticks and fear begins to creep and crawl
building within me, it constructs a wall
holding back the tears that are on the rise
threatening to pour like dark cloudy skies
     She sleeps so peacefully...

She lays there so still, covered in her shawl.
How do I reverse this?  How do I stall?
How do I let go of my fear? my guise?
I'm just not ready to say my goodbyes.
It's too soon for her to answer this call.
     She sleeps so peacefully...

thought i'd explore a new form...rondeau.  took a bit of an effort to get through this.  all was not as easy a word for rhyming.  as for eyes, i ended up switching to it after writing the first stanza with hole as the second rhyme.  the toughest part though was the wall that once kept the tears at bay has begun to crack and crumble.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

0 quicksand

i sink a little bit more every day.  i do my best not to struggle for fear the movement will cause me to sink faster in the abyss.  i can feel the pull dragging me down deeper and deeper into its welcoming arms.  arms that seem to hold the potential for peace and calm.  but that's just a mirage.  it's sweet beckoning call is like a siren tune carrying away sailors to their death is a trap.  i'm stuck waiting to be rescued.  i'm just not sure in which direction i should look for help.  so every day i'll continue to sink a bit further and try my best not to struggle too much, but maybe that's the problem.  Maybe struggling is the solution.