Notes.
Fractured ivory.
Keys lie still.
No longer played; untuned
piano.
By Sarah ©2019
P.S. This is my last post for #NaPoWriMo, 2019. Yay *insert happy dance*
Hope you have enjoyed the journey. Now, time for a well-earned rest!
Tag: #NaPoWriMo
An Unexpected Adventure
plucking up courage
she played her role as captain
oh, to imagine!
By Sarah ©2019
#NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day 29; and also, Ronovan Writes, Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt, Challenge #251 – Plucked and Played
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
The Mirror In The Attic
The reflection is blurred.
I no longer see myself.
I’m somewhat unnerved.
Lost my mental health.
I no longer see myself.
I’m spiralling now.
Lost my mental health.
Yet I don’t know how.
I’m spiralling now.
I need to make this stop.
Yet I don’t know how
To get back on top.
I need to make this stop.
I’m somewhat unnerved.
To get back on top,
The reflection is blurred.
By Sarah ©2019
The Great Race
This is a great race.
Though hidden by smog
the sun still radiates.
This summer heat is stifling.
The ground crunches beneath my feet.
Dry, rocky, barren.
The trees have long gone.
The wind tears its fingers through my hair.
It whips against my face as I look back
to where we have been.
I taste the bitterness of
being alone and smell
the fumes of a rotting world.
I strain to hear, signs of life.
I hear silence.
Nothing.
Oh yes, this is a great race.
A race against time.
How long before we ask ourselves,
“Where has our world gone?”
By Sarah ©2019
The Visitor
tempting the sparrows
the visitor draws them in
with bells and whistles
twittering about
unaware they’ve entered a
graveyard in the mist
like spearing flowers
bodies lie as they’ve fallen
the attack begins
By Sarah ©2019
Author’s note: On MLMM today, Chèvrefeuille has challenged us to write something “different”, based on the Haiku by Yozakura. I have used most words from the original Haiku to create this triple Haiku, based on today’s Pobble365 Prompt.
#NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day 24; and also, Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Heeding Haiku With Chèvrefeuille, April 24th 2019 – Something Different
Robin Hood
Heroic outlaw
Friction of arrow on bow
Ready for action
By Sarah ©2019
#NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day 23; and also, Ronovan Writes, Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt, Challenge #250 – Action & Friction
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
The Skypath
The whispers of rocks echo in clinks and bangs. The stones chitter in reply, “Here she comes“. Blades of grass crackle underfoot. Dying. She doesn’t realise they are screaming, breathing their last, at the mercy of her boots. The hiking stick she leans on groans as it bears her weight, supporting her every step. It laments its cosy place nestled amongst the leaves and silently curses her for taking it so far from home. Its knotted eye imagines a ladder to take her skyward, towards the light she so desperately seeks. The voices of nature warn that it’s just an illusion, but the haze beckons her on.
Seek what light you will.
Heed the signs along the way.
Don’t give dreams away.
By Sarah ©2019
#NaPoWriMo – Day 17, 2019; and also, Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Heeding Haiku With Chèvrefeuille – Voices of Nature
High Flyer
Work hard. Shoot upwards.
Fly high over landscape tones.
Pitch into space. Soar.
By Sarah ©2019
#NaPoWriMo – Day 16, 2019, and also, Ronovan Writes, Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt, Challenge #249 – Pitch and Tone
Trapped
I feel I have been frozen out.
No one to hear me scream and shout.
I am bound and I am caged.
Like an animal, enraged.
Time has lost all meaning.
My spirit has started screaming.
Will I lose my mind?
The ability to still be kind?
What use is there in going on?
Has all hope finally gone?
Have I now truly snapped?
No. Not really. I’m just trapped.
By Sarah ©2019
Controlling The Weather
Whether you mind the weather.
It’s better the devil you know.
Rain, sunshine.
Reign, son-shine.
It is never straight forward.
Read the foreword.
Heed the warning.
Head the morning.
Let’s hear the bells.
Here’s the tell.
By Sarah ©2019
An Upward Struggle
An upward struggle.
Hard to know which way is which.
Mysteriously,
it matters not whether we
live the truth or follow lies.
By Sarah ©2019
Another World
The distant sun reflects
off the dull sphere.
Stagnant.
Lifeless.
It’s hard to believe
something so precious,
something so signficant,
was given up on.
Destroyed.
A single tear drops
on the dust below my feet.
From another world,
I capture a fleeting snapshot
of our lost Earth.
By Sarah ©2019
Lightning Never Strikes Twice
Did I come from the sky?
Like a bolt from furious thunderheads.
Did I come from the rain?
Pelting the expanse with lashings of tears.
Did I come from the thunder?
Rumbling and grumbling so low.
Did I come to strike?
Stinging you with electric light.
Did I mean to?
Don’t you know?
I have arrived.
Lightning never strikes twice.
By Sarah ©2019
The Cave
In the ocean deep,
Shadowed spikes surround the cave.
Its yawning mouth warns
‘though filtered sun breaks through, it’s
still cold enough to break stones.
By Sarah ©2019
Floating Citadel
Image credit Pobble365Things that are serene.
Things that paint a playful scene.
Things not what they seem.
By Sarah ©2019
#NaPoWriMo – Day 9, 2019; and also, Ronovan Writes, Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt, Challenge #248 – Serene and Scene
The Mountain Pass
Blue on blue, their skin.
Consumed by cold, endless stairs.
Dying on the pass.
By Sarah ©2019
The Vacation
Respite.
Vacation time.
Slowing, calming, lazing.
Superheroes deserve breaks too.
Freedom.
By Sarah ©2019
Silence
Bang! Crash! Boom! Smash! Crack!
Clap! Wham! Pop! Slam!
Clang! Blast! Thump!
Whack! Bam!
…Silence…
By Sarah ©2019
The Hidden Temple
Stone
Cold face
With arched ‘brows.
Retreat to my temple.
Hiding.
By Sarah ©2019
The Sunflower
Save me, I’m lost.
Looking for sunshine
but counting up the cost.
Wasting so much time.
I’ve learned to love abuse.
My mistakes become regrets.
I’m not being obtuse,
just accustomed to losing bets.
I’ve been waiting for you,
as months and years go by.
Trying to start anew,
but still left questioning why.
Don’t let go.
I’ve wanted this far too long.
Starting now to grow,
I’ve learnt from what went wrong.
Stand tall. Reach for the sky.
I take back my power.
No more tears left to cry.
I am the sunflower.
By Sarah ©2019
#NaPoWriMo – Day 5, 2019; and also, Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Music Challenge #47: “Show Me What I’m Looking For” by Carolina Liar
Reshaping the World
Reshape the world?
Can it even be done?
Unzip the land
and let it sink in.
Lone crusaders
try their best
to break the cycle.
But it’s too late.
Plastic chokes
the oceans.
The earth has
become a junkyard.
Farewell abundance.
Goodbye human decency.
Adieu society.
Ta-ta accountability.
Some may say
this is a sad ode indeed.
Alas, it is merely
our reality.
By Sarah ©2019
Mother Of Dragons
Cradling gently,
She holds it near.
So fragile, fine-boned.
No need to fear.
With care of a mother
she raises from young
a firey juvenile
with sharpened tongue.
As she grows older
and more weak
An adult takes power
no longer meek.
Beneath the shadow
he now casts long
He is all alone
to learn right from wrong.
Her bones have long
settled in the dust
But memory holds on
with kindness and trust.
As ashes stain the
earthy ground,
New life springs forth –
The cycle goes ’round.
By Sarah ©2019
On The Prowl
Look sharp and pay mind.
Is the beast within without?
Start prowling in kind.
By Sarah ©2019
#NaPoWriMo – Day Two; and also, Ronovan Writes, Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt, Challenge #247 – kind and mind
By Sarah 