Haiku / Senryu, Poetry by Sarah

Punching Through

33A86C6F-3C94-4C1A-A21F-4A29290165F3
Image credit Tobias Keller via Unsplash

silhouetted beasts
guide me through darkest moments
’til sun’s rays punch through

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Only 100 Words, Three Line Tales – Week 95

Advertisements
Poetry by Sarah, Shadorma

Yield


Confusion.
Saturated mind
unable
to sort through;
prioritise challenges.
Moonstruck by my fears.

Day by day,
with ragtag mounting,
I feel I
am drowning.
The sun is shimmering still
– but in me, no more.

Do I sail
raging seas, or yield?
A conflict –
Desperate
wanderlust away from self?
Or stay. Fight the fight?

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Sammi Scribbles, Weekend Writing Prompt, #29 – Random, Task: Poetry Challenge – Write a three verse poem, where:
• each verse focuses on one of the three random words (Moonstruck – Ragtag – Wanderlust)
• and each verse must somehow reference the photo prompt in some way

and also; Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday Mix, Lucky Dip – 18 November 2017, Task: Write a Shadorma about an emotion (I have obviously chosen to write about confusion!)

Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah

Rented Smiles

It’s a sly decline.
Renting smiles,
whilst secretly dropping 
my blossoms.

Trying to deny 
the bellow inside
like a child,
locked in a closet.

What fate am I weaving?

By Sarah ©2017

Image credit Patricia Lara via Unsplash

Prompt: The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 324
Words: bellow, weave, smile, deny, child, fate, closet, blossom, sly, rent, drop, decline

Cinquain, Poetry by Sarah

Outside Myself

Being.
Confused; detached.
Watching, hearing, saying,
never understanding; I’m outside
myself.

By Sarah ©2017

Image credit kellepics via Pixabay

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Sunday Writing Prompt, #225 – Know Thyself

Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah

Lift 

Caught in the struggle.
I hold no power in this web.
Creating a swirling storm,
My mind has become a mystery;
Keeping me on the fringe of sanity.
I’m starting to list.
My star is fading.
       Oh, to take 
                 charge on this
                                lonely road.

When will it lift?
Please lift.  (Sigh)

By Sarah ©2017


Prompt: The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #320
Words: struggle, power, fringe, mystery, list, star, swirl, road, storm, sigh, lift, charge

Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah, Scribblings by Sarah

My Anxious Brain

My anxious brain plagues me.
Sucking joy from life.
No words of logic can pacify
When it goes off tap and
Swings into panic mode.

There it goes –
The ‘tub-thump’ of my heart.
A spray of adrenalin.
My stomach drops to my knees.
The abject, soul-plummeting terror
Of ruminating thoughts consume me.

I am paralysed with fear.

Oh yes.

Anxiety is a spry being;
Just waiting for opportunity
To take hold once more.

But oh, I wish it would forget.
I wish that it had no memory,
In my being.
I wish to be free from its grasp.

Imagine what that would be like…

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #317, Words: forget, tap, sucks, swings, spray, plague, imagine, tub, word, no, thump, spry

Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah

No Tea Today

“Well, I didn’t want tea anyway.” 

and no, I don’t, want you to stay.

Please, will you just go away!

Leave me to wallow in my way.

(That’s what I do, when my mood is grey)

It’s best to keep yourself at bay,

Lest that I should make you pay.

Well-meaning helpers make good prey;

A target at which to aim my spray!

The best of intentions cannot sway,

What heaviness upon my shoulders weigh.

Instead, I’ll  wait for sunshine’s ray,

To lead this present bleakness astray.

But for now…Come what may.

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, First Line Friday – September 15th 2017

Haibun, Poetry by Sarah

Slipping

A hole has been burrowed into my core, and I have been scooped out. Damaged and broken, I cannot be whole. Surely, my heart will die, in those briefest moments, between dream and reality, when I become aware I am lost, and that I will never be again. Like smoke curling skyward, I slip through my desperately grasping fingers. I clutch at wisps of me, for this is all I have now.

in murky waters
malevolent fingers tear
unseen misery

By Sarah ©2017


Image credit Pixabay

Prompt: Daily Post Daily Prompt, clutchexpress; and also, Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Heeding Haiku with Chèvrefeuille, September 13th 2017 – despair

Haibun, Poetry by Sarah

The Black


Image credit Laura Makabesku

The darkness had finally shown itself. Though she’d tried to keep it at bay, it had edged its way out. It had been a fluttering of feathers; tickling at her conscience. Then, an unfurling of wings, covering her hope. She tried to hold it close, clutching it to her breast. Tried to absorb it back into her soul, where all things secret lay. But it was too late; she was exposed for all to see and she was terrified. Rolling up her shadow and searching for light, she could find nothing, but the black. 


fallen from the light
the raven calls me again
shadows descending 


By Sarah ©2017


Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Photo Challenge #177; Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Challenge #47 – light and shadow; and also, Daily Post Daily Prompt: black

Scribblings by Sarah, Stories by Sarah

Second Opinion

Image credit Geran de Klerk via Unsplash

The doctor looked through the microscope. Shook his head and checked again. He couldn’t be sure but…it really did seem like it was true.

I’d better get a second opinion, he thought.

“Hey Charles, come over here and tell me what you think” he said to his colleague, who was busy working on a rather nasty looking Petri dish.

Charles put his eye hard up against the looking glass and gave a startled cry, confirming what he’d thought. The girl had sunk so deeply into her depression, she’d become an island. 

Now, how to connect her back to the mainland…

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Bikurgurl, 100 Word Wednesday – Week 24
Word count: 100

Scribblings by Sarah, Stories by Sarah

Walking The Line

She walked the ridgeline, as though walking a tightrope. There was a sheer drop on either side of the thin, rocky trail, and she felt truly terrified. The ice and snow made each step precarious and the dark chasm on either side of her was dizzying. She tried not to look down; placing one foot after the other, ever-so carefully.

The wind didn’t help matters. It whipped fiercely around her, flapping her long black skirt and rocking her balance. With one hand she tied back her hair, as the long black strands lashed her face and obscured her view of the rocky corridor. She kept her other hand outstretched, gripping an invisible rail to steady herself.

There had to be easier way to reach the tower, she thought to herself. She longed for refuge within its strong, solid walls. It’s warm light – a beacon; seemed to be drawing closer at an agonisingly slow rate.

Suddenly a gust of wind knocked her sideways and she slipped. Hanging by her finger tips to a rocky shelf, the chasm yawned below her like a hungry mouth, eager to swallow her in one gulp.

Mustering all her strength, she pulled herself onto the shelf, shivering and breathing hard. That was a close call. Once she’d steadied her nerves, she stood again and continued picking her way along the trail. She hugged herself closer to the ground, lowering her centre of gravity. She was not willing to risk falling again.

Fatigue and hunger were starting to assault her. She trained her thoughts to the task at hand and recalled the words of her hiking buddy, Helen.

She conjured Helen’s smiling face, quipping her favourite words of encouragement, “All you have to do is focus your energy on picking up your foot. It falls down all by itself!”

The memory made her smile and strengthened her resolve. Pick up left foot. Pick up right foot, she commanded herself. It was pure mind over matter. Helen believed she was going to make it, she believed in herself that she was going to make it…and she would!

She reminded herself that the road to recovery was long and hard, and weaves a lonely, rocky path.

And sometimes you’re only one step from falling into that black hole again.
By Sarah ©2017


Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Photo Challenge – 6 June

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 the distance I’d drifted 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