Cute façade hides the fierceness.
Ruler of the house?
Or guardian?
By Sarah ©2022
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday Mix – Lucky Dip, 10 September 2022
Façade
Category: Other
Happy birthday?
Celebrating
another year
gone by
Yet a thought,
lurking…
“How many more
are mine?”
By Sarah ©2022
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday Mix – Lucky Dip, 13 August 2022
Never Tell
Do you know, I keep secrets?
And sometimes I lie?
Paint myself in silhouette,
But I’m not sure why.
My shameful heart is burdened.
Don’t know what to do.
To stop myself from spilling
Things that just aren’t true.
Is it because I’m lonely?
Connected; yet lost?
Never knowing what to say,
No matter what the cost.
Awkward and uncomfortable,
I have that in spades.
Desperate to hide my flaws
Yet still, they pervade.
Living in the “ifs” and “whens”
Never now and here.
Slowly dying bit by bit,
Existing in this fear.
Drawing on your sympathy.
Victim card, I’ll play.
You’ll never know the real me
Despite what I say.
Take responsibility?
Nope. I’ll duck and hide.
Unrelenting perfection
My armour; my pride.
You’ll never really notice
The absolute despair
Expectations left wanting
Truly a bugbear.
Maybe I’m an enigma
You take what I sell.
Am I lying even now?
Guess.
I’ll never tell.
By Sarah ©2022
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday Mix – Lucky Dip, 18 June 2022; and Photo Challenge #419
Indifference
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
Dare Not
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.
Again
Here we go, a rollercoaster ride
Snap! just like that – we’re locked inside
Daily numbers on the rise
Contagion, multiplies
Just as we relax
COVID attacks.
Not again!
Here we
go…
By Sarah ©2021
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday Mix – Lucky Dip, Saturday 14 August
Doorway
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
Rainy-day Tableau
Black birds dot the sky
A greyness sets in
Rain steadily falls
When did it begin?
I stare from the couch
And reach for the gin
By Sarah ©2020
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday Mix – Lucky Dip, 8 August 2020
Someday
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
Wildflowers
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
An Ugly Truth
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
Charisma
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
Vintage
Veering unsteadily
Into the
Night,
Tastes of blackcurrant
And spice draped like
Graceful velvet on her tongue.
Every drop of wine, gone.
By Sarah ©2019
Wind
Wild.
The wind howls,
whipping ’round the house.
Wintery fingers hold the
chill.
By Sarah ©2019
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday Mix – Lucky Dip, 13 July 2019
Oddquain is a short, usually unrhymed poem consisting of seventeen syllables distributed 1, 3, 5, 7, 1 in five lines.
Rosie
Image credit PixabayLast 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.
A Giant’s Game
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
The Alchemist
The alchemist’s storm
of vulnerability.
Sorrow swarms
the alchemist’s storm.
Earth grows warm.
Vapours of futility
The alchemist’s storm
of vulnerability.
By Sarah ©2019
#NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day 27; and also, Sammi Scribbles, Weekend Writing Prompt, #103 – Vulnerable
Wilderness
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
The Writer
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
On Repeat
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
Magic Biscuits
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
Left Behind
I heard scurrying as you ran away.
My eyes saw, yet couldn’t believe.
Screaming, my mouth formed circle,
Yet the sound was primal.
Base. From deep inside.
I hugged myself.
Left behind.
All a
– lone.
By Sarah ©2019
Innuendo
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
Indistinct
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
Leaving
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.
Shine
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
Cobwebs
Spider silk clung at the doors, over
the windows, and over every
thing she had left behind her
– memories won’t linger.
Her reality
long forgotten.
Dusted off
and moved
on.
By Sarah ©2018
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, First Line Friday: September 14th, 2018
Off
The wedding loomed closer and all Tay
could do was think of the storm clouds.
They say it’s lucky; rain on
your wedding day. But what
if you realise you
didn’t love him?
And so, Tay
called it
off.
By Sarah ©2018
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, First Line Friday – July 20th, 2018
Blackened Moon
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
Symmetry
Balanced
harmoniously.
Ordered
proportions.
~ in symmetry ~
Proportions
ordered.
Harmoniously
balanced.
By Sarah ©2018
Image credits Bored Panda
Sammi Scribbles, Weekend Writing Prompt #57 – Symmetry
By Sarah 