1 CRUSH

CRUSH

destroy

demolish

the resolution,

intent on transforming

small town life, squashed its spirit

"tear down the pure essence of hope."

---

the last Wednesday of the month meets the last Wednesday of the year...i wonder what the new year will bring...  this here clarity pyramid is for Three Word Wednesday [3WW=>demolish, resolution, transform(ing)].  

5 Winter Wardrobe

The festive garb she wore was not a declaration of her belief system. Strangely the wardrobe fit her personality whether or not it spoke of her own faith.  Her jovial demeanor and her contagious smile, though not intended to spreading holiday cheer, were simply embedded in who she was regardless of the season or her surroundings.  And while she could bring a smile to any heart, her reality brought out tears and compassion in truck loads.  For just one glimpse at the rumpled holiday sweater, the tattered skirts, and her overall disheveled appearance and smiling hearts bleed knowing she wears the gaudy atrocious-looking sweater just to keep warm.

---

what a crazy day yesterday turned into...but i suppose 'tis the season...anyway, i finally managed to get around to Three Word Wednesday [3WW=belief, festive, rumple(d)].  it took me awhile trying to veer away from using believe instead of belief, but i managed it in the end.

5 Irrational Illusions -- A Response

irrational illustions - a response.egg on Aviary.

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Irrational Illusions – A Response

social engagement
to put forth such an effort
at such an expense
to the mind, heart, body, soul…
seems a fool’s errand
like a child playing with fire
comfort and warmth call
teasing with their open arms
just to sear straight through
why delve into this sector
of social terror
for just a glimpse of self-worth
of affirmation
reflected in other’s eyes
or within their words
truthfully it makes no sense
compounding real life
with more social arenas
honestly who needs
the world at their fingertips
one more avenue
to fall into a tailspin
where loss of control
tears at every ounce of hope
maybe it is time
to still the paranoia
in at least one world
before irrational thoughts
and harsh delusions
skirt the edge of sanity
maybe it is time
to not push the envelope
in an online world
where social angst finds a home
maybe it’s time to
unshrink this crazy life of
social endeavors

---

this will probably never going happen again...it's not even 3 o'clock on Tuesday and i'm ready for this week's OpenLinkNight over at dVerse~Poets Pub.  i suppose i figured that this being a busy time of year...this week in particular...i should get a jump start on things if i wished to not miss.   

anyway...the above poem is a response to last week's OpenLinkNight.  i had said in the ramblings part of my post that it didn't quite take on the end i had envisioned.  it really just set up the scene (or the problem).  so today i decided to revisit the thoughts that played in my head at the time.  somehow with Irrational Illusions i managed to keep 'i', 'you', 'me', etc out off the poem...not really an easy task for me lately.  when it came to writing this response i was torn with whether to stick with the lack of personalization or to reclaim it.  as you can tell i again left out 'i', 'you', 'me', etc., though they popped into my head on more than one occasion.  was it a good call?  i don't know.  might it have been a stronger piece with the personalization?  maybe.  will i leave it as is?  knowing me probably.  is this really goodbye?  that's an excellent question...

6 Plotting and Planning

The proximity of the voices rendered him immobile. They weren’t supposed to be there. He had planned things out so carefully, spent hours watching the house and days trailing their every move. He had even gone so far as to insinuate himself into their life to eliminate surprise just like this one. They spoke now in harsh whispers as though they thought the walls had ears—if only they really knew. The shuffling of their feet moving closer to his hiding spot caused the hairs on his arms and neck to stand on end. He did his best to quiet his breathing fearing the slightest intake of breath might give him away. He had been so focused on staying unnoticed he almost missed the tenor of the conversation. While he had come here to rob and pilfer, their words were a gem he could live off of for years. A smile pierced his lips as he pulled out his phone and began recording the discussion. Dollar signs flashed before his eyes as they spoke of retribution in the form of murder. When they finally left, he stepped out of his hiding spot and looked around contemplating leaving while the coast was clear. With a shrug he thought to himself, why not, and began to forage for valuables.

---

i decided once again to steer away from poetry for this week's Three Word Wednesday [3WW=>immobile, proximity, retribution].  i must admit, while i do it infrequently, i enjoy flexing my non-poetic muscles.

6 Irrational Illusions

irrational illusions.egg on Aviary.

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Irrational Illusions

social endeavors
breed paranoid delusions
in whispers and taunts
unheard words that brush the neck
tickles which incite
involuntary cringing
where shoulders rise up
a manner of protection
from something not there
surroundings push in
like walls closing all around
stealing breath from lungs
while tears push to the surface
where clenched teeth push back
striving to maintain control
a steel composure
to protect from eyes not there
now the fight expands
to new social arenas
where fingertips touch the world
in fresh mediums:
chats, blogs, tweets, podcasts, emails…
an unending list
ripe for paranoid fancy
steeped in social angst
no longer felt in whispers
nor in “watching” eyes
but rather in the silence
a painful echo
driving irrational thoughts
emails of boycotts
meant to explain still voices
tweets unretweeted
reinforce perceived lacking
as the world shrinks in
the pressure expands tenfold
crushing from the inside out

---

i wasn't sure when i started this that it would end where i had intended it to start...i thought it would simply follow a parallel line of thought and i'd have to come back to the original thought in another piece. but it found its way back...strange really how things find there way. although technically i did not make way into the intended conclusion...just to the beginning...which i'm sure makes no sense to anyone but me since only i know the original intent.


anyway...this is my offerings for this weeks OpenLinkNight over at the dVerse~Poets Pub, an extraordinary place were an eclectic group of individuals come together to share and celebrate poetry.

0 i should be stronger than superman by now...

She sat at the desk staring off into space. It was happening again. Something in her life had gone awry and it ate at her. She knew she had to talk to the person who’d set this roadblock. She had to make peace with it, if not fix it.

Unfortunately, there were things in life, which she could not deal with emotionally well. She clenched her teeth and widened her eyes to keep the tears at bay. The feeling that swelled inside her chest pushed and pulled at her muscles.

It’s not fair, she thought, normal people don’t feel like this. They don’t get so worked up. They don’t dread the idea of confrontation. It’s just not fair that she has to deal with this turmoil, this anxiety that surfaces whenever things seem to go uncontrollably wrong, to no fault of her own.

Air forced its way out of her mouth trying to expel the tension in her chest and shoulders. She rubbed her brow with her right hand and bit her lip contemplating the implications of how the future would be if she let it lie. What she foresaw was unhappiness and it hurt.

The will to move forward, to continue with daily activities, vanished. This war going on inside her was debilitating. The collision of the unwelcome future and the desire to mend it battled for control of her emotions.

Expelling another fit of air, she pushed all thoughts from her mind. There was no place for this war right now, maybe not ever. It was time to move forward. She needed to except that in life there were things beyond one’s control, times when one must learn to deal with being unhappy. A small mocking smile pierced her lips as her mind absorbed the idea, what doesn’t kill you, only makes you stronger.

3 intoxicating ride

She was tired of sitting back and watching, tired of being told what to do and when to speak, and tired of not being allowed to stretch her muscles, both physically and mentally. It seemed harsh and cruel that she was forced to suppress her natural instincts--all because she was born into this passive role. She itched to be free. The idea of controlling her own destiny was intoxicating, but still she understood the demands her title held. So try as she might, she could not bring herself to openly defy the expectations laid at her feet. Truthfully, there was only one pleasure she ever indulged in. When she felt her world begin to suffocate her, she steal herself away to the stables. Under cover of a night, draped in a cloak, she slips in amongst the horses until she found her mare. The first brush of her hand across the beautiful coat always brought a smile to her lips. There was an unspoken bond between the two. With one swift movement she’d find herself astride the majestic creature and they’d ride out towards the open fields. Then once the ground opened up in front of them, they would break into a full run. At that moment, when her hood flew off and the wind caught her hair so it billowed behind her like a flag, she felt free.

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i find myself with this week's Three Word Wednesday [3WW=>flag, might, passive] once again exploring prose--short and brief, but still pushing myself outside of the poetic thoughts i seem to get sucked into.