solitude – Page 4 – lillian the home poet

From Her Side

November 12, 2015November 13, 2015lillian2 Comments

Like a dust storm
swirls of grey, dark, darker still.
Whirl of words stick to skin
broken twigs, stabs of blame.
Misery clings to eye lids,
sneers and looks of disdain
seen in every moment of wakefulness.
Like sheaves of wheat broken in the gale
she droops, snaps, folds in to herself.
Years of neglect wrought this reality.
She disappears, marginalized,
haze floating on the wind.
Mouth open, silent howls, she succumbs.
Responsibility acknowledged by no one.
Acrid pain swallowed,
she chokes on life.

Insomnia

November 10, 2015November 10, 2015lillian7 Comments

Half-pulled shade, headlights dance
in the space before the sill.
Thoughts of nothing and everything
bounce inside my head.
Days gone by reappear, faces blur then clear
generations meld one to the next.
Eye-open dreams change scenes quickly
acts play out in milliseconds.
Like a thousand moths flitting round the light
ideas, words, pictures, feelings, here then gone.
Time moves forward on a nearby shelf,
illumined dial ignores my stalled state.
I watch you beside me, face up, eyes closed.
You wear the night so well, sleep looks delicious.
I match my breath to yours, slow syncopation
like snow flakes falling in the dark of night.
No sound. One by one, breath by breath
and finally I drift.

snowflakes-1479963

Here But Not

October 27, 2015October 27, 2015lillian7 Comments

photo credit: Geoffrey Whiteway

The macaw flew out the window
and my world became inescapably grey.
Poe’s raven without naming text
no black, no white.
Like peering closely at a newspaper,
pica type-print not visible
only paper fibers
etched in fine lines of shaded grey.
Guaranteed indelible ink
smudged by presses.
And no voices.
Only empty word bubbles
suspended from flapping mouths.
Filmed eyes watch stick figures
slink nearby in slow motion.
What happened to me that day?
The day the macaw flew out my window.

Dedicated to those who live in the throes of mental illness or depression,
invisible too long.

Pass Me By No More

October 17, 2015October 17, 2015lillian22 Comments

Multiple street corners I tried
army surplus wool blanket
wrapped round hunched shoulders
day old newspapers, my insoles
battered red plastic cup extended
as you rushed by, unseeing passersby
and me, invisible
like the harsh winds you leaned in to
and so I left your world,
ascended to the clouds.

My spirit lives in blue skies
afloat in soft nothingness.
Look up you passersby. See me
reflected in your corporate glass buildings.
But you, marionettes to a status master
strings taut, look straight ahead
rush with dayplanner blinders
unaware of natural beauty,
never mind the street people
dead or alive, we are all invisible.

In response to the Daily Post Photo Challenge: (extra)ordinary….beautiful everyday things. Clouds are ordinary occurrences…as are street people in the city.

Early Fall-Crisp Day

October 6, 2015lillian12 Comments

A single red-orange leaf
floats unnoticed to the earth.

Acorns and hickory nuts
ping and thud upon the roof.

Once proud tall hollyhocks
droop in frostbit demise.

Logs lit to flame, hiss steam
hoarfrost warmed in hearth.

I sit, crocheted afghan in my lap
coffee mug nearby
and savor the season.

One Sentence Ode to Provincetown

September 28, 2015lillian7 Comments

She listens to the waves
gently lapping on the shore
the gurgle before the swoosh;
feels the sun upon her face
watches it glisten on the sea
and feels content to sit and do
absolutely nothing.

Sunday Seaside

September 26, 2015September 22, 2015lillian5 Comments

Sight line ends
where water creases sky.
Rhythmic waves,
the breath of wind.
Gulls glide by in slow motion.
Clouds first pink,
turn violet grey.
Glisten paths upon the sea.
Surely I am in church today,
my knees upon the sand
seeking intercession
in genuflection,
closer my God to thee.

Photos from beach by our deck in Provincetown. Assignment from my September 21 Day Challenge was to write a poem using the strategy of litany (listing) and end with a longer sentence, with a stronger meaning.

Silent Sound

September 24, 2015September 22, 2015lillian1 Comment

Waves lap, winds gust
two gulls quarrel over one morsel
breath cools hot black liquid
sips then swallows.

All these sounds
echo in my ears
yet here I sit,
amidst the silence of the sea.

Another beautiful Provincetown sunrise. Sadly, our two weeks is about to end. Tis a special place – truly food for the soul.

Home Then or Again?

September 19, 2015September 18, 2015lillian10 Comments

Scuffed Red Wing leather boots tread across forest floor. Trekking poles swing naturally at my side, two more points of contact to the earth. Closest thing to being four limbed.

Sun filters through leaves, beams on stands of gooseberry red, chokecherry orange and fiddlehead green. I walk through scrubby tree roots, climb over rocks to cross a stream, carried by wind and sun and bird song in the air.

Last week’s hike swirls fading as I maneuver city streets. Blue suit jostled, surrounded by tall grey, red brick towers that block the sun, save corners where green lights mean go. High heels comply, stumble from curb to pavement, and my feet ache again.