Silent Thursday: What is written what isn’t written yet.

Source image by Hugo Kerr on Unsplash

Maggie from, from cave walls wrote: ‘January is behind us and I felt I should give you an update on my conversation with Lauren on the status of our Throwback Thursday posts. “

She has spoken to Lauren who she started Throwback Thursday with about it’s future. They have decided that as Lauren is not well and has enough to cope with at the moment they would suspend Throwback Thursday until Lauren feels she can cope.

So for now Maggie has decided to do a Tranquil Thursday prompt until Throwback Thursday returns. As a I see it out prompt this week is : What is written  in your book and what remains unwritten?

I am not a hundred percent sure if I have read this correctly anyway here goes.

Life… A Terza Rima, what is written. © willowdot21

I did not ask for this life,

It was alloted to me

I walked daily amid madness and strife.

When a child too young to see

I blindly followed every rule

I was fitted with the ties that stop me being being free.

I learned to read and write at school.

Yet they did not want me to think

I was bullied, pushed around, I was named a fool.

I was weak, my armour full of chinks

But I strived to hide my fears

Paint on a smile hide the missing links.

Ambition and aspirations came along the years

Despite opposition I grew wings

Layers formed that gave my life tiers

Dreams I had enough to throw to the winds
Hold on to them as I may they slipped away.

Like so much detritus blown around the bins.

Finding my identity made me strong and whole

I found my voice, written words, my choice

As I strode toward my goal.

I was teased but it didnt hurt, as I said that was my choice

No one was unkind no tears burned me

Quietly my flag of independence I unfurled and hoist.

Married, they all said, your but a baby

I was determined though, afraid to be left alone

So the plans were laid, a start a bridal spree.

Seventeen, and full of hopes ready to leave home

Sister’s, sewing, in-laws arranging cars, cakes, and bridesmaids

Such a lot to do, in a few weeks I shall have flown

For a while all is bright and darkness fades

What the future holds I do not know

I am important for now I have the spotlight before it degrades

The dress is silk and white oh! how it flows

We take our vows and mean forever

Our love so huge it burns and glows.

And so our journey is begun joined by an invisible tether

Into our new life we blindly drive

Ignoring the pitfalls of life, newlyweds wrapped up in eachother.

Young and happy to be alive

Learning lessons daily sharing our new life

It was not easy being a wife

So many compromises to play

Still the love, in those days out weighed the strife.

We had a girl who could not stay

Then a boy who nearly didn’t either

But he did and after a dicey start is with us to this day.

We had to move down west to pastures new

Fresh start with baby on the way

Staying with inlaw’s a tricky thing to do.

Our home, with new babe out of hospital finally okay

Builders, sea gulls in the wilderness

Alone and unsure so much I was under stress and not okay.

Two more babes refused to stay I was thin and depressed

Hubby worked away I was so alone

Then another baby on the way we moved away from the west.

Back to London and my Mum’s home

Finding comfort in family and the old familiar

For most of that pregnancy I was not alone.

At length we managed to secure a home, three quarters of an hour from Mum’s by car.

The previous owners had not left and it was pouring with rain

Screaming baby, soaked possessions but we had our own place again Ah!

The years came and went and we all grew, good times, bad times in the frame.

I watched the boys grow and then ten years on another boy arrived.

Many things happen as a family grows and memories remain.

I had some black times it was never easy but we all survived

As our family out grew our home so we bought a bigger house

Sometimes I just hid inside my head until my soul revived.

I was often scared, letting myself be bullied, I acted like a mouse.

I lost my grip on ambition like sand it slipped through my fingers.

I felt so insecure, try as I might my fears I could not douse.

Hubby suffered with stress , the kind that lingers

The boys grew and flourished they were out life

Then we moved house again to our forever home .

It’s never easy being a mother or a wife

It pushes you and stresses you to your limit

Yet it brings joy and meaning to your life.

Years past, some alone but I coped no longer timid.

The boys grew into men I found myself again

We all need to grow and not be tied down.

The boys have grown and flown but their roots here remain

Family ties get stretchrd and torn

Yet with their choices I really can’t complain.

Twice I break my back, rue the day I was born

Second time I started to write

Words free me from prison I should of done it all along.

Things may not be perfect, I did not ask for this life,

It was alloted to me

But I walk daily content amid madness and strife.

🌹

What is unwritten

So now I have wings and I am armed with a pen…. Mightier than the sword? Yes I think so. Writing has opened my eyes and I have made so many friends online. I have grandchildren who are wonderful.

So what’s unwritten? A lot less than is but I shall not waste what is left. I want to publish, I want to cuddle my grandsons I want to embrace my family and life.

This is part of Maggie’s Silent Thursday.

Ronovan Writes SIJO Wednesday Poetry Challenge #47. Use ESCAPE as your inspiration this week.

Escape

Finally the chance to get away, restraints slack, door unlocked.
Silently, heart pounding. Crawl into the night’s cool air.
Sweet smell of earth surrounds me then pain. Blackness as life escapes me.

Ronovan Writes Sijo Challenge Image

PART OF RONOVANWRITE’S WEEKLY SIJO CHALLENGE.

#TankaTuesday Weekly Poetry Challenge No. 305, 1/31/23

WELCOME TO #TANKATUESDAY!

短歌 火曜日

.

This week Colleen suggests we try Random word poetry. Which is something that Jane Dougherty started writing last year. Colleen said : “I think this is a great way to find inspiration, so let’s try it.

Below, I’ve generated a list of 100 random words. The idea is to read through the words, searching for a word that sparks your inspiration.

Then, choose no less than three words to use in your poem.

You can use as many words as you’d like, but at a minimum—you must use three words from the list. This is a great time to experiment with freestyle or free verse poetry (defined on the cheat sheet).

If you write a free verse or freestyle poem, please include a syllabic form to accompany it. That means you’ll write two poems. Have fun making connections between the two forms.

I chose to write an Abhanga. The Abhanga a poem in any number of 4-line stanzas with 6-6-6-4 syllables each. L2 and L3 rhyme. The end rhyme scheme is abbc. It is customary to title your poetry.

These are the words I chose *Rambunctious *maddening *dysfunctional * rampant *sashay *bizarre
*Quicksand *unruly* hurl *walk *capricious *innocent *voyage
“mayhem *push *clocks *trap *brick *carry *safe

The child

That child is maddening
Rambunctious slight of hand
Quicksilver and quicksand
Slipping your grasp.

Unruly they hurl past
Dysfunctional they say
They don’t walk they sashay
Lion rampant.

Capricious and bizarre
They’re still an innocent
Their voyage mayhem bent
Still but a dream.

Don’t push them to watch clocks
Don’t trap or brick them up
Their spirits need such luck
Carry them safe

PART OF COLLEEN’S TUESDAY TANKA CHALLENGE

Ronovan Writes #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge 447 BUBBLING and Creek.

It’s effervescence
Filling tides, inlets and coves
Bubbling like Champagne.

Haiku Challenge
Ronovanwrite’s .

THIS IS PART OF RONOVANWRITE’S WEEKLY HAIKU CHALLENGE

The Friday Reminder for #SoCS & #JusJoJan 2023 Daily Prompt – Jan. 28th

2019-2020 SoCS Badge by Shelley! 

You can also use the Just Jot it January badge! To find the rules for Just Jot it January, click here.

LindaGHill arrived again with our prompt: “Welcome to our final combination Daily 2023 Just Jot it January Prompt and the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt for SATURDAY, JANUARY 28th! Where has January gone? It’s flown by for me.

For those of you joining SoCS for the first time, it’s a little different than the other prompts in that it’s not always a whole or single word. If you’re joining in from JusJoJan, don’t want to write stream of consciousness style, no worries. It’s up to you! If you do want to try it, please check out the rules below. It’s fun! Here’s your Saturday prompt:

Your prompt for #JusJoJan the 28th and Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “throw in the towel.” Use the phrase “throw in the towel” somewhere in your post. Enjoy!

Throw in the Towel

To give up to concede
When it is too difficult
To slow your pace give up the lead
When the going gets tough
Shrug your shoulders and say enough
When you can no longer duck the punches.
The gym implodes you can do no more crunches.
That job has taken so long it makes you scowl.
Give up, give in, throw in the towel.

Holocaust Rememberance Day.

Lest we ever forget or worse still deny.

Rounded up beaten into compliance
Herded onto trains, treated worse than cattle.
Sorted to the left or the right no point to defiance.
Death or slave labour, hunger a constant battle.
Shot or beaten at a soldiers whim
Deemed subhuman because you were a Jew.
The race or religion may change but it ever was and is… nothing is new.

Ronovan Writes SIJO Wednesday Poetry Challenge #46. Use FORTUNE as your inspiration this week.

Ronovan Writes Sijo Challenge Image

I do not apologize for basing my Sijo this week on News story: Jan. 24, 2023, at 2:14 p.m. LONDON (Reuters) -British voluntary aid workers Chris Parry and Andrew Bagshaw were killed during an attempted humanitarian evacuation in eastern Ukraine, Parry’s family said on Tuesday, weeks after they were reported missing in the war-torn country.

THE FORTUNE OF WAR.

Caught up in the theatre of war, two heroes gave their lives for others.
Winter showed no pity, the enemy gives no quarter.
Four seasons witness atrocities, the miss fortune of war.

Part of Ronovanwrite’s Weekly Sijo.

Colleen Chesebro’#TankaTuesday #Ekphrastic #Poetry Challenge, 1/24/22, No. 304

WELCOME TO TANKA TUESDAY!

This week, using the painting as your inspiration, please write either a syllabic poetry form or a freestyle poem, including a syllabic form

Boughton, George Henry; The Lady of the Snows; Walker Art Gallery; http://www.artuk.org/artworks/the-lady-of-the-snows-97671

Your challenge for this week:

Is to write Ekphrastic poem.

The beautiful painting above has inspired me to write a Sijo. The Sijo, a Korean form believed to have first been used in the fourteenth century. It is similar in structure to various Japanese forms such as Haiku. As with many forms of poetry, the Sijo became a preferred poetry form of the yangban or ruling class as well as royalty. They were written in Chinese and were originally short songs set to music. The focus of the Sijo is usually nature and contemplation.

Three Lines 14-16 syllables per lineA total of 44-46 syllables for the entire poem.

Cold, cold, cold.

No weather so artic could out freeze her soul.
No snow blizzard could chill her more, her heart is like ice from winters depths.
Her countenance belies the hate she carries, heavy. The lady of the snows.

********

THIS IS PART OF Colleen Tanka Tuesday wordcraft

Ronovan Writes #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge 446 CHIRP and Hello.

This week I’ve written a Haiku inspired by this mornings walk with Ruby.

© willowdot21

Cold frosty morning
Across frozen fields we tramp
Birds from frosted trees
Chirp having survived the night
Bleak midwinter’s harsh hello.

Ronovanwrite’s.

This is part of Ronovanwrite’s Weekly Haiku Challenge.

When will it ever end?

Two poems I wrote almost a year ago, not thinking the war between the Ukraine and Russia would still be waging.

Painting:Title: Russian Dancers
Artist: Edgar Degas (French, Paris 1834–1917 Paris)
Date: 1899 via https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/

Russian Dancers

DON’T TRUST PUTIN

Whirl and stamp, heel, toe high
Stamp those boots, drown out lies.
Hear truth before it dies
Don’t trust Putin.

Mother Russia blushes
Her Boots are made to stamp
Ukraine caught in her clamp
Don’t trust Putin.

Don’t listen to the news
Open your eyes, look
The man’s an evil crook
Don’t trust Putin.

© willowdot21.

🇺🇦🇬🇧🇺🇦🇬🇧🇺🇦🇬🇧🇺🇦🇬🇧.

painting by Franz Marc, killed at Verdun in 1916.

THE EASTERN WINDS

The washing hangs abandoned
In the Ukraine, blooded and singed
Cowering not from the wind but from the bombs .
It is tethered to a line, an invisible line
Everyone has forgotten and it stays Abandoned in the cold wind and snow.

It’s a symbol of the people
Made refugee
Hanging between life and death
Bombarded by those with no conscience
Empty promises of safe passage
Hanging on the invisible line
We must not dessert them.

© willowdot21.

🇺🇦🇬🇧🇺🇦🇬🇧🇺🇦🇬🇧🇺🇦🇬🇧

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