922

image credit

QUESTION AT QUANTUM

Once we thought, we know not

What the future holds;

Now we think of tomorrow,

Will it ever be here to greet us?

Denial no longer  befriends sorrow.

The opened eyes of new normal,

Stare like fish in aquarium,

Swimming in perpetuity,

For swim they must.

© gillena cox 2022

BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH

dVerse – Poetics – Small Change or Big Bucks

REVISIT
20210503 

20180503

20170503

640

"Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility."
--William Wordsworth


image credit

BREWING WORDS
They brew in cauldrons; eye of newt and ear of bats,
Smoldering breath of flying dragon and mermaid's tears,
Colours of sunset rise in steam of ladles stirred,
And diaphanous patterns of spider's dreams spook forth

Such is the concoction of voiceless words echoed

Like psalms from a weeping prophet's beard long told
To lament a wicked dread of worlds, its sweetness
Long forgotten in heaving maidens breast, behest of love.
The angst of a poet's mind where everything already exist.
BREWING WORDS © gillena cox 2019


Blog hopping with

Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Writing Poetry
Susan's Challenge: In a New poem, tell us Why Write Poetry? and/or What Is Poetry?


REVISIT
3rd April 2018
3rd April 2017
3rd April 2018


ENJOY THE MUSIC

470

[St Michael image from google]


KISMET
She lies you know, that braggart
Cousin Coucous!
Oh, she met, Michelle Obama at
The hairdressers!

Between sips of tea, i said to my dear cousin:

Down there in doldrums,
Dark is the only vision seen
And shadows are plated
From breakfast to supper

Dreams are those times you reckon with surreal

It was neither winter nor summer.
That time, my first meeting Michael,
He was wearing his brown skins.
As a kind of kismet

They do that you know, angels are chameleon

The span of knowledge Heaven holds,
Fastens many a wonderer
In diaphanous skein
Exceedingly awesome

Neither day nor night sat on its hunches

Neither cloud nor rainbow
Thus, could ride the moment,
Here he was at the edge of real
So brilliant was his aura,

Strength of another worthless tyrant absorbed

My soul knew his guardianship
My spirit he had so awakened
"Taste and see" he said, "of goodness,"
"And relish the nectar of hope"
KISMET © gillena cox 2017

Isadora Gruye at Real Toads prompted: Write about a relative's encounter with a famous person. That's all. The encounter doesn't have to have actually happened. And the famous person does not need to be living or even from the same era.

My poem though, having an ilk of its own strayed a little out of focus into a very self-centred shift: my apologies; AND, i do not have a cousin Coucous.

Blog hopping today with
(in)Famous and possibly fictional



Revisit
11 November 2016


Enjoy

415

STAR OF THE MORNING
Morning star, guides dawn to a nice shelter,
From which her blanket of night, can be folded;
Halves, quarters, eights,
Enough to stash away into bird songs
Gifting tweets and trills

Sheer fragrance

The wisdom of windows opened
To coolness, before
Yon petulant sun pouts like a naughty child,
Too torrid to melt desert sands,
Too yellow for narcissistic dreamers.
STAR OF THE MORNING © gillena cox 2017


Blog Hopping today with

Words Count With Mama Zen
ASSIGMENT: visit Astrology.com to get your tarot card for the day (it's free; no sign-up). Explore the meaning of your card.  Treat it as a joke, a portent, a really cool piece of art - whatever suits your muse.  Just make sure your muse keeps her musings to 60 words or less.