Category: Other

Other, Poetry by Sarah

Indifference

weejars

People; do you ever really know?
They disappoint you. So
Keep your expectations low.

When life throws you blow upon blow,
Their silence speaks volumes.
People; do you ever really know?

Indifference. Likes to burn slow.
A simmering glance, a drawn out sigh.
Keep your expectations low.

A strangled plant, it’s hard to grow,
When surrounded by weeds.
People; do you ever really know?

Actions mean more than what you crow,
Beware smiling assassins.
Keep your expectations low.

Guarded I’ll be, loathe to show,
My innermost thoughts lest
People; do you ever really
know?
Keep your expectations low.

By Sarah ©2022

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday Mix – Lucky Dip, 23 April 2022

Other, Poetry by Sarah

Dare Not

weejars

No one dare say
this is going to be our year
We need to walk in slow
Tread quietly. Tiptoe.

Be cautious
Be respectful
Be prepared
And don’t touch anything

Let 2022 be.
Instead, just hope
Hope it knows the assignment
This year will be its own creation
– whether we like it or not.

By Sarah ©2022

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, First Line Friday – 31 December 2021 and Saturday Mix – 1 January 2022*

*Line poetry contains a hidden message. When the last line of each stanza is read, it forms it’s own mini poem or tale.

Other, Poetry by Sarah

Doorway

weejars

I dream of escape
Escape from in here
Here is my nightmare
Nightmare and fear

Spiralling down
Down to the black
Black prefers dark
Dark doesn’t talk back

It’s been a long time
Time has stood still
Still in my mind
Mind been through hell

But now dawn is rising
Rising to light
Light from a doorway
Doorway in sight

I cross the threshold
threshold anew
anew expectations
Expectations of you

Please hold my hand
hand trembling, I go
Go through the opening
Opening so slow

Guide me with love
Love me carefully
Carefully we’ll weave
Weave a journey

By Sarah ©2021

Photo by Filip Kominik via Unsplash

Carrot Ranch, August 5: Flash Fiction

Other, Poetry by Sarah

Someday

weejars

Someday, this will
be over. Still
remembered ’til,
(like some) half-felt.

Fading nightmare.
Sorry affair.
Public declare
their hand’s been dealt.

True misery.
This malady,
a parody
of life withheld.

So many ’til,
the final kill.
Sad total bill,
its trophy pelt.

A lesson learned,
as tides are turned.
‘Til next time burned,
memories melt.

By Sarah ©2020

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, First Line Friday, May 22nd 2020; and also, Saturday Mix – Lucky Dip, 16 May 2020

Author’s Note: This poem was inspired by the COVID-19 Pandemic, in hope we will never forget, and learn from this experience, in preparedness for next time. A warning we need to heed. The poetry form is one I have never used before – Rhupunt.

Rhupunt is a Welsh poetry form. Here are the guidelines:

▪ The form can be broken down into lines or stanzas
▪ Each line or stanza contains 3 to 5 sections
▪ Each section has 4 syllables
▪ All but the final section rhyme with each other
▪ The final section of each line or stanza rhymes with the final section of the other lines or stanzas

Other, Poetry by Sarah

Wildflowers

weejars

Wrought when wildflowers whispered,

”Who, what, when, where, why?”

Whence without wisdom we

went wayward;

Wading.

Wandering.

Withering.

Weeping.

Wholeness withheld;

Wasted, wretched, whilst

witnesses watched.

We wait.

We waste.

We whimper.

We wake.

 

By Sarah ©2020

 

 

 

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Music Challenge – “You Don’t Know How It Feels”; and also, Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday Mix – Lucky Dip, 22 February 2020

Other, Poetry by Sarah

An Ugly Truth

weejars

An ugly truth it seems to be,
My harshest critic is but me.
Through cruelest lens I always see,
A captive’s plea. A captive’s plea.

“You’re fat, you’re foolish and you’re dumb,
Don’t dare to dream – they’ll never come.”
Her waspish voice begins to drum,
A constant hum. A constant hum.

Thoughts spiral quickly, filled with mirth.
Giving them air, just spreads their girth,
’til soon I feel of little worth –
An endless dearth, an endless dearth.

Pessimism grows; soon takes hold,
Wraps me in arms of bitter cold.
I am fearful – can’t break this mold.
Happiness sold. Happiness sold.

An ugly truth it seems to be,
My harshest critic is but me.
Through cruelest lens I always see.
Please set me free. Please set me free.

By Sarah ©2019

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday Mix – Lucky Dip, 5 October 2019 and also; Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Sunday Writing Prompt “Ugly Words”

Monotetra structure:
Line 1: 8 syllables; A1
Line 2: 8 syllables; A2
Line 3: 8 syllables; A3
Line 4: 4 syllables, repeated; A4, A4

Other, Poetry by Sarah

Charisma

weejars

The flowers were blooming, and the bees
kissed them every now and then. Their
charisma – alluring; so
irresistible. Not
able to choose just
one they loved them
all. Pollen;
lustful
drug.

By Sarah ©2019

Image credit Pixabay

Ragtag Daily Prompt, Saturday 24 August: Charisma; and also, Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday Mix – Unique Personality, 24 August 2019

Other, Poetry by Sarah

Rosie

weejars
Image credit Pixabay

Last week a beautiful juvenile Rosella flew into the glass window of our classroom. After some TLC from us and ACT Wildlife and Conservation, Rosie now flies free again…

You crashed
Into the glass
Head smashed

Hurt. Stunned.
We nurtured you.
Wings sunned.

Released.
Strong again you
Fly east.

By Sarah ©2019

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday Mix – Lucky Dip, 18 May 2019

Author’s note: The Musette was created by Emily Romano and is a poem that consists of three verses of three lines each. The first lines have two syllables; the second lines have four syllables, and the third lines have two syllables. The rhyme scheme is a/b/a for the first verse; c/d/c for the second verse, and e/f/e for the third verse. The title should reflect the poem’s content.

#NaPoWriMo, Challenges by Sarah, Other, Poetry by Sarah

A Giant’s Game

weejars

A spark. A flare. New ideas form.
You ponder what they might be worth

a plan

Words begin crackling into life.
The die have been cast, and they roll.

you write

Sometimes you’re lucky, and you win.
Sometimes, you need to cut and run.

a chance

Overseers observe, perplexed,
but fervor is not diminished.

a joy

The parts are assembled upon
the factory floor and reworked.

a draft

As lyrics converse in a song.
Gloriously it emerges.

a verse

— ~ —

The writing game can make mice of
men. An encounter that looms large.

go on

The mouse grins. Satisfied that he’s
tamed the giant. A poem now

complete

By Sarah ©2019

#NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day 28; and also, The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 401

#NaPoWriMo, Challenges by Sarah, Other, Poetry by Sarah

Wilderness

weejars

Teeth chattering with fear, I go
Forward into the wilderness.
Alone.

All the guns in the world won’t help.
I’m out of bullets. I have me.
Just me.

I inhale the smells – pine, dirt, smoke,
Sweat. Earth’s perfume is assaulting my
Senses.

I feel that I am being followed.
In my periphery, a flash
Of brown.

The hunter is now being hunted.
The irony’s not lost on me.
I laugh.

I’ve followed the river, as taught.
Still, I’ve managed to lose my way.
What now?

— ~ —

The remote chimes as I press pause.
I pick up the phone and ring room
service.

I lay back on the hotel bed,
Comfy. Warm. And thinking of what
I want.

By Sarah ©2019

The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 398; and also, #NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day 22

#NaPoWriMo, Challenges by Sarah, Other, Poetry by Sarah

The Writer

weejars

I write these nonsensical words.
Hoping that out of the quagmire
Comes gold.

As I scribe, the words loom larger
Hovering over the page. Loose.
Swimming.

They move around by unseen hands.
Making new sentences. Reborn
as prose.

“But this isn’t what I wanted!”
I think to myself, frustrated.
Full stop.

I scramble to make sense of it.
Like a jigsaw, I place words piece
by piece.

Slowly, slowly, the writing creeps.
Finally filling up the page.
I’m done.

— ~ —

The reader sighs – sympathising,
Relating, delighting, wrangling.
Enthralled.

Ne’er do they suspect the battle
Between the writer and the words
The end.

By Sarah ©2019

#NaPoWriMo, 2019 – Day 21

#NaPoWriMo, Challenges by Sarah, Other, Poetry by Sarah

On Repeat

weejars

A synchronicity poem has eight three-line stanzas in a syllable pattern of 8/8/2. It is written in the first person with a twist revealed within the last two stanzas

Seabirds sketch patterns through the sky.
The sand darkens with their shadows.
Silver.

I see grey clouds hold back sunshine
and wonder at their malleable
power.

Cottony fingers streak deftly
Painting shades of the coming day.
Promised.

Yet this optimism’s not shared.
I trudge wearily in today.
Empty.

My feet are stuck in yesterday.
In mud that was born from the storm.
My life.

Mundane thoughts swirl about my head.
Or are they snowflakes pretending
To be.

— ~ —

The gnarled branches of the trees catch
The plastic glittery pieces.
Again.

The child shakes their precious snow globe.
Not realising life’s on repeat
inside.

By Sarah ©2019

#NaPoWriMo – Day 20, 2019; and also, Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday’s Mix – Lucky Dip

#NaPoWriMo, Challenges by Sarah, Other, Poetry by Sarah

Magic Biscuits

weejars

Across the ground you fly.
Bounding through life,
Comes so easily to you.
Daring to rely on wishes and
Everything falls into place.
Free from responsibility and treated like
Gods. It must be
Heaven to be you.
I would like to trade even
Just for a day. Your
Kind must make some
Lovely little
Magic biscuits to
Nestle so deeply into
Our lives.
Playing for keeps you
Quietly establish your
Reign of our houses and
Sleeping quarters.
Taking time to
Undo the chains we
Valiantly have placed around our hearts.
We stand no chance against your
Xenophile ways.
You are dog. You are family. You are
Zeitgeist. Larger than life.

By Sarah ©2019

#NaPoWriMo – Day 19, 2019

Other, Poetry by Sarah

Innuendo

weejars

Hiding behind God we praise beastily.
Upon others’ spirits we graze beastily.

“Be anything you want”, the craze decree.
Don’t take offence at this malaise imagery.

Allusive. Oblique. Innuendo, holidays free.
Surrender your ego, go as your days be.

Through the sorrow, through the haze see.
All that is splendour, upon you gaze me.

Let me tell you, exception weighs heavy.
So let whatever will be, yesterday’s be.

By Sarah ©2019

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Music Challenge #46: Innuendo by Queen and also, Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday Mix – Lucky Dip, 23 March 2019

Other, Poetry by Sarah

Indistinct

weejars

I

Needn’t

Deny that

Indelibly we

Survive

Trials of

Indistinguishable

Negatives that

Can’t outweigh

The wisdom of time.

By Sarah ©2019

Sammi Scribbles, Weekend Writing Prompt, #94 – Indistinct and Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday Mix – Lucky Dip, 23 February 2019

Other, Poetry by Sarah

Leaving

weejars

Burning.
Yearning.
Churning.
Turning.
You left me with burning, yearning lust.
In a squeal of churning, turning dust.

By Sarah ©2018

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday Mix – Lucky Dip, 20 October 2018

Author’s note: A Tyburn is a six line poem consisting of 2, 2, 2, 2, 9, 9 syllables. The first four lines rhyme and are all descriptive words. The last two lines rhyme and incorporate the first, second, third, and fourth lines as the 5th through 8th syllables.

Other, Poetry by Sarah

Shine

weejars

I am not here by design,
Nor by what you claim is my crime.
Nine years is too long
To maintain this disdain
It’s time, dear “brother”
To get off this train
For truly mischief is afoot
When you cannot even feign
a sliver of decency, or respect
You’ve chosen that line
Ignored your roots.
I won’t be bound by your chains
Be assured, I will continue to
SHINE.

By Sarah ©2018

Sunday Whirl, Wordle 370

Other, Poetry by Sarah

Blackened Moon

weejars

Blackened moon,
mirroring worlds.
Inky skies reflect
shadows and light.
Birds fly away,
seeking sun; fleeing mists.
Chasing possibilities.
~ Searching for clarity. ~
Possibilities chasing
fleeing mists; sun seeking.
Away fly birds.
Light and shadows,
reflect skies. Inky
worlds mirroring,
moon blackened.

By Sarah ©2018

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Photo Challenge #218

Other, Poetry by Sarah

Shadows

weejars

It’s the shadows in her hazel eyes,
that betray her brightest smile.
No longer bold, as sadness takes hold,
her flame’s been extinguished, for a while.

Day after day she continues on,
wondering what it’s all ’bout.
As sadness takes hold, no longer bold,
she’s now broken and filled with self-doubt.

Dreaming of escape; far, far, away,
Her care factor has checked out.
As sadness takes hold, no longer bold,
She simply cannot see past this drought.

Inadequacy shrieks in her ear,
always consistent and strong.
No longer bold, as sadness takes hold,
never feeling so incredibly wrong.

Retreating to self; her memories,
She slowly just fades away.
No longer bold, as sadness takes hold,
choosing not to be, another day.

By Sarah ©2018

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday Mix – Lucky Dip, 2 June 2018

Author’s Note: ZaniLa Rhyme. The ZaniLa Rhyme, a form created by Laura Lamarca, consists 4 lines per stanza. The rhyme scheme for this form is abcb and a syllable count of 9/7/9/9 per stanza. Line 3 contains internal rhyme and is repeated in each odd numbered stanza. Even stanzas contain the same line but swapped. The ZaniLa Rhyme has a minimum of 3 stanzas and no maximum poem length.

Other, Poetry by Sarah

Stale

weejars

Growing narcissism; selfish people.
Society has set the value
for those who rise, on occasion
of others they cause to fall.
Quashing fresh approaches,
crowing their hidden
agendas for
ideals that
have gone
stale.

By Sarah ©2018

Author’s Note: The poetry form, the Etheree, consists of 10 lines of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 syllables. Etheree can also be reversed and written 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Get creative and write an Etheree with more than one verse, and follow suit with an inverted syllable count.

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday Mix – Opposing Forces, 26 May 2018, Antonyms – rise and fall, fresh and stale.

Other, Poetry by Sarah

Twaddle

weejars

Trivial
and lacking substance;
many are fools.
Fixated and self-indulgent,
feathering their nest with
frippery and twaddle.
Empty hearts.
Unfulfilled souls.
Disingenuousness rules here,
crushing spirits.
Despaired and broken, we go on.
Truth never spoken.
Smiles conceal hidden agendas
Present, but never here.
We must
Fight venom with

~kind acts~

with venom fight.
Must we?
Here, never but present.
Agendas hidden, conceal smiles.
Spoken never truth.
On go we, broken and despaired.
Spirits crushing,
here rules disingenuousness
Souls unfulfilled.
Hearts empty.
Twaddle and frippery
with nest they’re feathering.
Self-indulgent and fixated.
Fools are many.
Substance lacking and
trivial.

By Sarah ©2018

Prompt: Sammi Scribbles, Weekend Writing Prompt, #55 – Twaddle

Author’s Note: Palindrome Poetry is also known as Mirrored Poetry. A palindrome, by definition, is a word, phrase, verse, sentence, or even poem that reads the same forward or backward. It stems from the Greek word palindromos: palin, meaning again, and dromos, meaning a running. Combining the two together, the Greek meaning gives us, running back again…