Transform – A Dash of Sunny

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little deaths every day

eggs shed from the womb, unused

those strands caught in the hairbrush

(but never the grey)

that tomato forgotten in the dark corner of the fridge

the unmoving spider, legs curled tightly around its body,

giving itself one last hug

the rag doll dropped to the ground

reaching out a forlorn arm in silent, unheard protest

little deaths every day

little deaths marking progress

little deaths; the fodder of change


 

It’s time for the weekly poetry prompt from A Dash of Sunny. This week, she invites us to visit Tarot Card Prediction and find out inspiration from the three cards we randomly select. My first card was ‘Death’ – not so awful as you might think, since it’s about transformation and change in general. I decided to focus on this card in particular, hence my poem above.

Please do visit A dash of Sunny, have  a read and perhaps, perhaps, perhaps… join in!

 

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Burn Up

The summer of ’13
won’t trip off the tongue,
Not like ’69, when
Bryan Adams was young

I’m a true late developer
in meter and rhyme,
Weaving word tapestries
rescued my mind

It helped me mourn
in the harsh summer heat,
Released my emotions
A skill, bitter-sweet

My dad was a poet
amongst other passions,
To write was his rescue
in a stark world re-fashioned

I’ve now learned that life
can’t really be planned,
But donning my poet’s hat
softens the demands

of a journey turned left
when it ‘should’ have forked right,
I can bleed on the page
without horror or fright

at my raw, stark emotions
which should not be suppressed –
They are what make me
create my art at its best.

Burn Up

*****

This week, Anthony, our host at dVerse Poetics wants us to investigate and ponder on what has made us the poets we are today – was there a turning point long ago, or was the event more recent?

For me, it’s an easy question to answer – the death of my dad last summer. It released something in me, made me much less afraid of expressing my emotions, which I used to keep locked up in a vault. For some reason I chose to rhyme this one – the first verse dictated the pattern, I’m afraid. Blame it on Bryan Adams!

I hope you enjoy my offering – and please do join us! The pub opens at 3pm EST, and I’ll be linking up later. As is my new way, the audio is now also available, which is a minor miracle, since until late morning today, i had lost my voice! Read all about my sickness – here!