the conflict of lonely and alone

being alone is a heart-opening thing

and the solitary self comes alive when alone,

yet the yearning of lonely brings bitter-sweet tears

that fall on a cheek with a splash and a sting.

 

the bitter turns sweet when a spine feels the comb

of fingertips intent on opening the heart,

yet the yearning of lonely brings tears for fears,

and that solitary self plays a part.

 

My response to day 14 of NaPoWriMo 2016: write a san san

my fortune cookie poem

“True success is love, not power.”

 

Power is so, well, potent:

manipulating, cajoling, forcing

one’s way to success.

Love seems weak, in the shade

of Power’s dazzling beams.

Softer, more passive, waiting.

Love seems vague, elusive,

not out to be grabbed or hurried.

Power can be earned.

Love has to be given.

Power is impatient.

Love is empathic, considered, kind.

And what does success mean anyway?

Can one love without power,

and be powerful without love?

My response to Day 13 of NaPoWriMo: write a poem from a fortune cookie

a tritina for my enigmatic muse

You fragrance the warmth that resides in my heart.

Your heat is implicit in my aromatic words,

and yet consistency’s missed from your promised bouquet.

 

I dream of wild lily to spice your bouquet.

I pray for pale rose to prod my yearning heart

into blooming, creating a garden of words.

 

You hide in the trees, whispering the words

I need to capture and show in a scented bouquet.

Speak louder, please: help me speak from my heart.

 

Let me express my heart in a bouquet of ardent words.

 

My response to Day 7 of NaPoWriMo 2016: write a tritina