Rip Tide – VisDare 64

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I pushed the little paper boat round and round the kitchen table, imagining it sailing off into a picture-perfect sunset.

What the hell was this all about? And where was Jo?

My stomach rumbled, reminding me it was well past dinner time. I glared at the oven, the hob, the CD player. Normally they would be doing things by now. The oven would be humming merrily, its light giving the food inside a warm, yellow glow. Something would be bubbling on the hob and the CD player would be playing something soothing.

Now, all was silent.

I mooned around the flat, lost in the emptiness. I held the little boat in the palm of my hand, trying to read its unwritten message. I was no good at subtlety.

I turned the CD player on. The song filled the room and all became clear.

Enya’s ‘Sail Away’.

Jo had gone.

——-

Here’s my latest entry into VisDare this week, the prompt run by the lovely Angela. I did struggle a bit with this one, until I heard this Enya song in a shop this afternoon. As the young, cool kids say these days – Boom! I hope you enjoy it. Take part, why not?

Columbine – dVerse

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They scatter, these unwanted words

dripping with sarcasm and vitriol.

 

Tendrils of spite germinate and flourish

entwining whispers and hisses behind hands,

 

as if the very lowering of voice and timbre

will cloak their malfeasance in honey,

 

reduce the bone-grazing cut to a mere abrasion.

Secrets are sprinkled with an eye to inflict

 

damage so deep that recovery requires

strength that Atlas himself would admire

 

even as he carries the world on his shoulders;

this is as nothing to the downward-looking.

 

Wounds of word war-craft cannot be seen,

cannot be photographed, do not reveal themselves

 

as visible evidence in Court No. 1. Yet this abuse too

resonates – and whilst mental scarring also heals

 

much like a bruise, or a bone broken in anger,

it is carried, leaden, inert, hidden:

 

hidden, that is

until the point of no return is reached.

———-

This week, on dVerse Poetics, Shanyn  has asked us to write as if words are seeds. What an interesting idea, not to mention, imaginative!

I’m not quite sure if I have travelled down the right (weed-strewn) path with this one, however, I was keeping plant life in mind as I wrote and, as you can tell, looked at word-seeds sown that really should be kept to themselves. Whilst weeds, I think, are beautiful plants and flowers growing in a place that we humans did not choose, word-seeds of the nasty sort should never be sown at all! Bullying is wrong, irrespective of whether it is physical or mental.

Please pop over to dVerse to see how others have risen to the word-seed challenge – I will be linking up later!

*Columbine, or aquilegia is actually my favourite flower – how ironic that it is poisonous!

 

 

In which nobody is satisfied – VisDare 63

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worker ants are we

carrying our load

that over the years

has become leaden, unwieldy

and grown knife-sharp

burrs digging into skin and necrotising flesh

eroding and abrading

laden with expectation

wants have transformed into needs

more urgent than water

than the very air we breathe

infinite possibilities are subsumed

in unrelenting grey dolour

as unstoppable as time itself

 

it takes strength to resist

to walk away from the pressure

and those who say ‘just do it’

and those who say ‘it’s not that easy’

are both right

each from their own perspective

each from their own prison

each hearing, but not listening –

empathy is necessary

more so these days than ever, perhaps

and yet the white noise deafens

we are hoodwinked and blinded

and through wilful isolation

we choose to fail to realise –

we are not alone.

——-

Here’s my latest entry into VisDare this week, the prompt run by the lovely Angela. I have chosen to write in poetic form this time, but of course, I have met the guide of using 150 words or less! Please feel free to read, comment, critique or just enjoy, whatever you prefer.

I am going through a bit of a political phase on my blog at the moment, as you will see from here  and here. Of course, all of life is political and politics invites people to disagree with your opinions. Wouldn’t life be dull (or horrific) if we all had the same viewpoint? I’m not great at arguments, they do put me in turmoil. But life requires you to be brave, right?