Haiku, Poetry by Sarah

Animal parade 

Take me to the clouds
Beyond the reach of this land
Spirit me away.

When I first opened my eyes, I saw glittering stars. A black abyss surrounding the diamonds in my mind. But as my cloudy eyes began to focus, I realised I was lying on the grass; a witness to the drifting white cumulous in a pale winter sky. As a young girl, I would often lie this way. Constructing a parade of elephants, dragons, birds and other creatures, slowly morphing from one to the next.  I tried to smile at the memory, but it hurt too much. That last hit had been hard; rattling my teeth and wobbling my brain. I had to leave him.

Take me to the clouds
Beyond the reach of his hands
My spirit now free.

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: MLMM Heeding Haiku With Chèvrefeuille, May 24th 2017, Word: clouds

Author’s note: This is my first attempt at Haibun (it’s a day of firsts today!). Thanks to Margaret Chula for her Guidelines for Writing Haibun in English. My haibun today follows the Haiku/Prose/Haiku structure and was inspired by Australia’s ongoing battle with violence against women/ family violence. I myself have been a victim and as a teacher, witness daily, the trauma of children living with family violence. We must do better. 

Poetry by Sarah

Askew

Something is off.
I’m feeling askew.
My optimism rough.
Confused what to do.

I’m feeling askew.
Stuck in my mind.
Confused what to do.
Thoughts so unkind.

Stuck in my mind.
My soul in despair.
Thoughts so unkind.
Catapult me out of there.

My soul in despair
My optimism rough.
Catapult me out of there.
Something is off.

By Sarah ©2017


Image courtesy of Boaz Yiftach at FreeDigitalImages.net

Author’s note: Thanks Miriam Hurdle for inspiring me to try this new (to me!) form of poetry. This is my first attempt at Pantoum in response to the Daily Post’s Daily Prompt for 24/5/17, ‘catapult’.

Please visit Miriam’s site and pantoum ‘Letter in the bottle’ .

Prompt: Daily Post Daily Prompt, Word: catapult

Pantoum Poem:
There are four stanzas in the line patterns of
Stanza 1 – 1, 2, 3, 4.
Stanza 2 – 2, 5, 4, 6.
Stanza 3 – 5, 7, 6, 8.
Stanza 4 – 7, 3, 8, 1.
Reference: https://www.youngwriters.co.uk/types-pantoum

Scribblings by Sarah

The Ride



Image courtesy of NEKNEERAJ © at Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie

 

The girl on the Vespa shouted, “Ciao Bella! Come for a ride?”

So she stood up from her depressing dinner and climbed aboard.

“Viva Italia!” she cried, as they headed toward the rolling hills of Tuscany, the winding canals of Venice, serene Italian Lakes and the ancient city of Rome.

Anywhere was better than sitting here just thinking about it.

By Sarah ©2017


Prompt: MLMM Photo Challenge #166

Scribblings by Sarah

Frazzled

Every strand of my hair felt frazzled. My vertebra, compacting and crunching, under the weight of my world; ready to collapse. Catching a glimpse of my oscitant* mouth in the window’s reflection, I decided reform was in order. Syncretism** must prevail (The rabbit warren of my mind has an uncanny propensity for optimism).

As I reached for the handle and opened the door, I stared down the barrel of the gun.

Lunch was over and my class began trickling back in.

I won’t lie. It would be tough. But I had this.

After all, they were only five years old…

(and I have a tendency to exaggerate)

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt Source: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Wordle #156
Words used: tough, strand, vertebra, collapse, catch (ing), oscitant, reform, syncretism, warren, uncanny, barrel, tendency

Image by foto76 at FreeDigitalPhotos.net
* Oscitant (adj.) yawning, as with drowsiness; gaping. drowsy or inattentive. dull, lazy, or negligent.

** Syncretism (n.) the attempted reconciliation or union of different or opposing principles, practices, or parties, as in philosophy or religion.

Scribblings by Sarah, Stories by Sarah

Slipped

Before I knew it, the rope had slipped from my grasp.

I cursed as I watched it slither beneath the surface of the rippling water. Not again! I thought helplessly. The boat slowly drifted away from the dock. How long til I can get back this time? I wondered.

I was sure I’d fastened it properly. I’d been practising the rope knots, just like they’d shown me. Oh, well. There was nothing to do now but wait.

The boat bobbed rhythmically with the ebb and flow of the tide, lulling me into a light sleep. Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed and when I opened my eyes, I was alarmed to see I’d drifted so far from the shore. The land was nothing more than a speck. I looked around at the horizon of unrelenting flat blue; my silent companion.

I began to wonder if I’d deliberately unmoored myself.

Losing your mind is like that.

By Sarah ©2017


Image by bigjom at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Daily Post prompt: unmoored

Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah, Scribblings by Sarah

I am not nothing

I am not nothing.
I know you see me,
Even though you stare blankly
through the places I be.

I am not nothing.
I see the flicker in your eye,
A glimpse, a recognition
– your sister, a tie.

I am not nothing.
I’m not an aberration.
Not an evil monster,
You invented that creation.

I am not nothing.
All the wrongs against you,
are deeds to be halved,
your own version of true.

I am not nothing.
You need to share blame.
We both made mistakes,
played a terrible game.

I am not nothing.
Not invisible, not worthless,
And who the fuck made you,
so pious and righteous?

I am not nothing.
It cuts to the core,
It still hurts like hell
it’s me alone, you ignore.

I am not nothing.
There’s no end in sight,
I’ve tried for so long now
to make things right.

I am not nothing.
I want to move on,
To harbour this grudge
Eight years is too long.

I am not nothing.
It’s time to say ‘bye,
Because though you’re my brother
you don’t even try.

I am not nothing.
What you don’t see
Is that to someone who matters,
Their everything is me.

By Sarah ©2017


Image by Karen Shaw at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

 Author note: This poem is based on my estranged brother. From time to time we have to deal with one another at family events etc and he pretends I don’t exist. This poem attempts to deal with some of the feelings that arise when being treated like this by someone you used to be close to. Obviously there are two sides to the story. This is mine.