A Feigned Pose

In abundance, it grows
Deep wisdom ancient

Alongside stinging nettle
Gracefully, it stands

I, too feign a pose
Itching injury persistent.

All I should do is breathe
Unfurl towards the light

As curled fronds of a fern
Surrender and let go.

note: In response to Midweek Motif, “Yoga” at Poets United.

Uncovering the Extraordinary

A crow plucked my heart
And hung it on a tree
For the whole world to see.

Pleas and protests, in vain
The mischievous creature
Pecked at my core insisting
“Be love, be bold and bare it all!”

Litha, the Baby Crow

process note: I’ve mentioned (somewhere else) before that I never regarded crows as extraordinary birds. But that was until I got introduced to this amazing artist’s work.

Sometimes it takes an extraordinary person to shine a light on the ordinary, and Stacy, who blogs at MagicLoveCrow, is that person. Sometimes one is that ordinary person trying to uncover the extraordinary.

The poem excerpt is in response to Midweek Motif, “Seeking the Extraordinary in the Ordinary” at Poets United.

Small Pleasures

A pinch nestles
in the chamber
air between leaves

A light tamp
another pinch
thumb seals aroma

A little murmur
fingers fumble
the match strikes

Anticipation―
the flame dances
tobacco crackles

Lips pleasured
the senior draws
pipe long as arm

A mouthful taste
before release;
she builds clouds

Another puff, stare
unblinking into the
Indian Ocean

note: The poem is in response to the Midweek Motif at Poets United. Pipe smoking ritual in Xhosa culture is practiced by elders of both sexes. The practice is deemed a way of communicating with the ancestors, and less about addiction to smoking.

A Screaming Flower

Does courage have colour; bold colour to paint a life
in lands, where holding a flower
can start a war?

What memory! Flowers screaming; blood red
in regions, where eight-year-olds
write testaments?

A Flower

process note: I promise, I had planned to write a happy poem. A poem possibly about love, summer romance or a lovely scent of a flower. Then a day before yesterday, I watched a heart-wrenching documentary about one of the countries ravaged by war. The poem was inspired by the Midweek Motif at Poets United.

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