Tag Archives: Seeing

NaPoWriMo Time

Time

 

How can I work so much during the day

Spending and giving my time away

When I should be feeling the soundless air

Moving so sensuous through my hair

 

Instead I sit here inside my cave

Caging my brain so that it will behave

When I should be seeing the growth of green

But I just don’t have time to put up the screen

 

When I rise in the morning and look around

I count the things I’ve unfortunately found

And that now are just clutter just lying around

When I should be hearing the bird’s lovely sound

 

It doesn’t matter how much I do

It never gets done, I never get through

I make lists of things that I need to accomplish

When I should be smelling the outdoors like I wish

 

I stay up so late and work all I can

And I never finish the tasks I began

When I should be eating and enjoying the taste

I’m hurrying, scurrying and making waste

 

Who taught me to worry and hurry around?

Am I so greedy I can’t enjoy sound?

Who told me that I should not waste a minute or two?

And made me feel guilty of things I should do

 

I need to take time and to learn something new

Like ignoring the sights of the things I must do

I need to live simply and give up this trash

I need to enjoy living with not so much cash

 

But how?  I am asking you please do explain

How do I get rid of this hurry up pain?

Who can I trust to instruct me to release

Everything that I do that doesn’t mean peace

 

Maybe things will get better when April does go

And gives me my days back from NaPoWriMo

Some celebration that this month has been

I need to just clear my head and start over again.

NaPoWriMo, 2013, #28, Pretty in Pink

Pretty In Pink

My lady calmly crests the hill.

She wears the pink colors of innocence,

     her steed white enough to blind your eyes.

The battle stops as if every man has turned to stone.

Holding, with caution, her delicate pink parasol

     above her steed’s handsome, nodding head.

 She tilts her rose-tinted face as she comes slowly down the hill

     Smiling as if seeing not the insanity that has taken place.

  She sees not the dark red blood and gore running in rivulets,

     limbs now belonging to no one, strewn about recklessly

     as if they had dropped from the sky.

My lady smiles as she meets the eyes of the frozen fighters

     knowing that this battle has everything to do with her.

Knowing that with one word she can stop the carnage.

She takes no notice of the breezes bringing to her the

     overwhelming smell of warm fresh blood.

Her steed tiptoes through the entrails of men no longer men

     and moves its ears forward to the sounds of moaning.

Both steed and lady proudly walk onward

     and over the next hill.

The battle resumes its ferocity.

NaPoWriMo, 2013, #18, Beginning and End (Prompt)

FOREVER

Impossible to look over your shoulder when you need to watch the face.
The face looks at you so kindly. You dare not drop the mace.
The eyes that twinkle merrily while sucking out your life
while behind you moving slowly is the same face with a knife.

You would think you’d learned your lesson and just pack your bags and leave.
You get so tired of watching and you do so need reprieve.
But why bother when you know these things and its way too late to quibble?
Besides, you’ve tried
You’re tired now
No Time
Watch out
Impossible

NaPoWriMo 2013 #13 – Yard Walking

On a Walk

Walking through the yard I see mud clumps from the plow.
I see brown puddles and untrimmed hedges,
Trash from cars, wet rotted leaves, brown, dead grass,
broken branches fallen to the ground, mud on my car.

Using sight and smell I smell green sprouting things
and the smell of the lake, minutes away, coming to me in the wind.
I smell cows finally let loose from winter confinement and
a recently cut tree fallen from a winter storm.

Seeing, smelling, touching I feel the softness of the new grass,
the bark of a happy tree, smooth buds that are baby leaves.
I touch the mud and it feels like the gritty mud pies I used to love
I touch the stump and feel the sticky sap

Seeing, smelling, touching, tasting I open my mouth and taste the fresh air
coming from the lake released from its skin of ice, almost like fish and seaweed.
I pull a blade of grass from the sheath and bite the tender end
and taste sweetness and light.

Seeing, smelling, touching, tasting and best of all hearing
I hear the birds and their calls to find mates. All the birds I’ve been missing.
Orioles and Cardinals and Mourning Doves, Chickadees with their summer song
So different than their winter song.

What would I do without these senses?
Which one, if I had a choice, would I choose to lose?
Deciding to enjoy them while I have them
I decide to explore the field.