Thursday, September 26, 2013

Doors

Image credit

Each beckons
seductive
commanding
demure
imperious
humble
terrifying.
A choice must be 
made, they demand.
One is especially
emphatic that
she be the only option 
- the one I am least
interested in,
the only one that 
does not serve or
promote
my dreams,
needs.
I turn my back 
despite the clamorous
protests
stride into
open space
unconfined
true to self.
(Written for "Theme Thursday", Doors, 9-26-13)

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Becoming visible













The layers come off
isolation
fat
dark colors
no makeup
white hair
glasses
hiding out physically
mentally
emotionally
spiritually.
All around
I am noticed
sought out
loved
after hibernating
in my mind and
thickened body
ignoring the beckoning
of those who would
know me and
those who would love me.
Little by little
the color and vivacity
seep back into my skin
from the deep well
where they quietly waited.

(Written for Tuesday Tryouts "Photographs as Metaphors", 9/24/13)

Monday, September 23, 2013

Within




















The inner child
flying freely
rejoicing
freed from the
prison of dysfunction
that was my mind,
lately a garden of joy
dancing around the
light of blinding self-love
attracted to unfolding identity
moth like, compulsive, tireless.
But even she eventually
wears down
must rest and recharge
the intoxicating abandon
of being our true self.

(Written for "Magpie Tales" prompt, 9-22-13, Mag 87.)

Sunday, September 22, 2013

Old, new















After seeking self empowerment
in varied venues and many years,
it is finally found, fulfilled
in an unexpected source.
A underground group
of specific activities.
The strap is placed in hand and 
wielded with self love, 
scouring the
resentments and anger
from the wrinkles of the
brain as marks appear in
flaming reds, patterns of
blues, purples, black almost
breaking skin, blood pooling in
controlled tattoos of domination.
Surprising empowerment
surges through the veins,
singing along arms,
hair follicles, tingling toes.
Finally awake.
Absolutely free.
The strength that was always
within
has fully emerged 
firmly rooted, spreading
encompasssing,
enfolding, caressing.
Striding with assurance, sexy, 
wielding the leather 
confidently
precisely
doubtless
queen of my own life
at last.

Saturday, September 21, 2013

Quinquenagerian - to be real

Photo credit



















A half century after birth
attaining an age most of
the grandparents and great grands
did not achieve and
after surviving a life threatening
illness in this, my fiftieth year,
I wonder what the next fifty
might hold.
I hope I am only
just past half.
Just past center.
I intend so much more.
The first fifty were
amazing, but
I am now, more
than ever,
striving for more
for positive
for productive
for love
for joy
to fly towards and upward
not to slide downhill
to the end.
But mostly
to be alive
healed
grateful
the fur is rubbed off
and the body is lumpy
but oh so grateful
to breath
daily.
(Posted for the Poets United prompt, "Just Past Center", 9-18-13)

Friday, September 20, 2013

Transformation














Vitality to
dying
eating starving sleeping
making
changing.
Old foes got old,
passed beyond
understanding or
amends.
New friends too.
No sense to who
goes or
stays.
Mortality is
sparkling eyes
the cane in hand
dancing steps
the dust
of confusion
swirls around
grateful toes
alive.
And how.