#TANKATUESDAY Weekly #POETRY CHALLENGE NO. 244 #EKPHRASTIC #PHOTOPROMPT

#TANKATUESDAY. This week it is Ekphrastic Tuesday.

Merril D. Smith selected the image this week. It’s a lithograph and you can read more about it HERE. Remember, we can see what’s in the image, so write your poem using the image as an inspiration. Don’t just describe what you see in the lithograph. Think about metaphor and allegory. Just remember to check what form you’re using. Some of the Japanese forms frown upon the use of metaphors. This challenge explores Ekphrastic writing, inspired by visual art.

I chose to do a Tanka this week, I really love this image, it’s very relivant to the world today .

Image Credit: https://libwww.freelibrary.org/digital/item/66272

death is so tired
exhausted by the burden.
no one here listens
he turns life’s timers around
drowning us all out of hand.

THIS IS PART OF COLLEEN’S TUESDAY WEEKLY.

Thinking of Sue Vincent.

Today would of been Sue Vincent’s birthday. Sue was a wonderful person, mother, mystic, friend, teacher. Generous in every sense of the word and many things to many people.

Sue would of been 63years young today, five years younger than me. I feel sad that fate and cancer cheated us of knowing her longer.

Two of Sue’s beautiful Midnight Haiku.

Lens at the ready use

Rainbow cows and peaceful seas

Awaiting capture

Reflections reflect

A vision of reality

The world in our eyes.

****

Whether or not you knew Sue please visit her site it is still there here.

The Dropped Stitch.

knitting redhead

Here I am the the odd one out , sitting here lost and lonely my mouth in a pout. I am the stitch that  from the needle fell, and flew off on my way down to hell.

Count the stitches one by one be careful now else you’ll count them all wrong.

Click click go the needles of strife knitting soft wool making up the pattern of life.

Knit one pearl one carry one over will this be a cardigan or a pullover? You cannot  hold on to the cable when it is full of slip stitch , I am telling you now,  you’ll not be able.

I am the stitch that life has dropped. Hopes and plans have all been stopped. It is futile to be angry the balloon has been popped.

I am the dropped stitch slipped from the needle fell through the hole lost my grip. Forgotten and forsaken a little lost soul.

******

An old poem from 2011

We are what we are we are legion.

Forbidden Love  A Nonet 

We walk in  shadows  away from  light

Hidden we belong  to  the  night .

You can never hold  my  hand

A love  like ours is  banned.

People  must not  know

I love you so

forbidden

Is our

Love.

******

Butterflies of  Love 

the_autopsy_by_laura_makabresku-d7e9ze0

Image found  here 

Taboos blown to wind and skies

On no man did she depend

Rather to herself true

She turned inward to befriend

Tiny butterflies of love.

Escaped from heaven

Ecstasy pure as  the dove

Unspoken their lust did rise

Such joy forbidden.

*****

Rainbow  Haiku.

Rainbow Cake

Rainbow Cake

Glorious  colours  of  the rainbow

Mixed up in  a cake

Love everyone,  real not  fake

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am what I am 

Love  me  for what I am

Be I  unsure, woman or man

Let  me live loud and proud

To  be  what I  am, not hide under a cloud.

Transexual, transvestite ,Gay or lesbian

Accept  me, love me,  this  is what I am!

Ronovan Writes #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge 365 LAUGH and We.

still confusion reigns
rules will be relaxed, we laugh.
trouble is ahead.

This is part of Ronovanwrite’s Weekly Haiku Challenge.

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS July 3, 2021

Badge by Shelley Krupa.

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “contains ‘igh.’” Find a word that contains the letters “igh” in that order and use it in your post. Enjoy!

THE SIGH

The sigh fled.
It took flight
From the misery draped
night.
Sadly not farsighted enough
to escape the straightjacket
of life it had to turn and bluff.
The unsightly racket
It’s madness caused such plight.
Never a sadder sight
Than the sigh that flew into the night.

this is part of LindaGHill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday.

#writephoto : Treeman.

This week’s prompt is a post with a difference – our JUNE guest photo!

For visually challenged writersthe image a tree that has partly been carved to represent a man (or an ape I’m undecided).

Tree Man – Image by Willowdot21.

Gaia had given up on mankind, they were so uncaring of this beautiful planet. Their waste and inventions clogged up her seas, oceans and rivers. They drilled, mined and fracked for all her bounty. They waged war, they plundered the spoilt!

Sitting on the edge of the woods surrounded by paper cups, used condoms, plastic bottles and polestyrine cartons Gaia spoke with Death who was looking wan and very thin.

“I just don’t know what to do really I am at my wit’s ends,” she exclaimed a tear in her eye. Death smiled, a scary sight all teeth! “Don’t worry he said I have one last thing up my sleeve.”

Sighing Gaia replied “Well the four horsemen are already here, War, plague ( he played a blinder) famine, and yourself you have all worked so hard.”

“Indeed we have been working overtime, and yet those uncaring humans still carry on their selfish ways. I have called in the big guns, my last resort. “

Gaia, inhailed loudly “Surely you cannot mean….”

“Yes indeed I am going to bring on the Ents…they will soon put pay to mankind and then they can gently and kindly restore you to your former health.”

Just then the first of the Giant Ents arrived looking tired and somewhat irritable!

This is part of K L Caley #writephoto

KL Caley at Novel Ideas has offered to take on Sue Vincent’s #writephoto weekly challenge now Sue has moved on to a higher plain.

Ronovan Writes Décima Poetry Challenge Prompt No. 62: (BLOW) in the C rhyme line.

Ronovan Writes Decima Challenge Image
.

My Décima is linked to my entry for Ronovanwrite’s Weekly Haiku you can find it here. I have chosen a sad subject this week. Cohesive Abuse. It affects both men and women. We must be aware and not close our eyes to it.

Your cohesive behaviour
Has me cowering in corners
Fearing your return, such tortures..
Lost I submit to your power.
Wilted buds, I’m a dead flower.
You have cut me down blow by blow
You eat my heart, I bleed out slow.
You are everyone’s friend but mine
Can’t please you, it’s a waste of time.
Just us now , your venom will flow..

This is part of Ronovanwrite’s Weekly Décima.

#Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 228, #Poet’sChoice

WELCOME TO TANKA TUESDAY!

Happy JUNE! It’s the first of the month and you know what that means! Word Crafters, choose your own syllabic poetry form, theme, words, images, etc. It’s up to you! This opportunity only happens once a month!

I really just wanted to tell a tale. So I really am not sure if this poem is even allowed. I told it all the same.

Light and dusk

Golden light fractals through the leaves.

Dark brown, of strong Oak woven in the trees.

Motes of  dust dancing in and out,

squirrels collecting nuts, in a hurry here  about!

As she lays there among the leaves,

not missed yet, so far no one grieves.

Dearest Teddy by her side

She only dropped him when she died.

She is tiny, she is small,

Oh! dear God she has hardly lived at all.

Like an angel lying there

with tiny insects running through her hair.

Shafts of dying daylight frame her face,

of her killer there is no trace.

Silent leaves begin to fall

slowly slowly they cover all……………

This is part of Colleen’s Tuesday Tanka.

KL Caley’s #writephoto. Steps.

Well its Thursday and time for #writephoto .

This week’s prompt is a post with a difference – our MAY guest photo!

A great big thank you to Jemima Pett for agreeing to be the featured photo this month. What a beautiful photo for us. Pop over to her blog at http://jemimapett.com/ to show her some love!

For visually challenged writersthe image shows steps up and over a bridge, with narrow alleyways at each side of the bridge.

Steps – Image by Jemima Pett.

They had always met at the Apothecary on the steps leading up the bridge. They would push through the hustle and bustle their hearts leaping at the sight of eachother.

Every evening they would meet and they would spend the hours of darkness lost in eachother. Happy memories of love and his life.

That was centuries ago and there had been many since but none had ever held that tight to her heart. Marco had been her first love, she had done all she could to turn him. He had refused her but stayed with her until he died. She remembered the fateful evening he was there waiting in the doorway. He was by then a man in his early sixties …handsome still, affluent she had seen to that.

As she immerged from the shadows she had seen the two young boys approach Marco. Too late she saw the flashing blades as they stabbed him and robbed him. As Marco breathed his last his soul touched her face and whispered “I love you still”.

Rage burned within her, she set off in persuit of the murders! She found them in a tavern celebrating their I’ll gotten gains. She seduced them with ease and lured them out into the alley. Where she killed them both and drained them dry. Brushing herself off she left them in the filthy alley with their bloodless hearts exposed…their white bodies ghostly and their faces tortured.

She had spent centuries alone, just feeding her blood lust to keep herself going, occasionally mingling in human society, and as she was one of the originals she kept her place at head of the chapters of her own kind.

Why she found herself at the old Apothecary she had no idea. Yet here she was in the shadow looking at the doorway. Looking up she saw a handsome you man on his mobile phone. If she had had a heart it would of stopped. This man was beautiful, and he had caught her eye. He put his phone away and smiled at her.

So it began, after six centuries she felt whole again. Serenely she climbed the steps.

KL Caley at Novel Ideas has offered to take on Sue Vincent’s #writephoto weekly challenge now Sue has moved on to a higher plain.

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