Our Memory Remains (or should)

Let’s celebrate freedom, you say. And I rage and rage and rage… and wail. I reach for the word—free—and the fingertips of my left hand almost touch the fringes of a cloak… before the torn fabric of how things should be gets lost in mayhem made of your wind and the reality storming over the unlucky many.

Let’s feast, you say, firework the heavens for a night. Yester-days are gone, grab today. And I search and search and search… and weep. I reach for answers in your eyes, and see that time suppressed terrors and common sense, but memory remains.

freedom is real
only when enjoyed by all,
let us remember

.
the wee notes…
– This haibun was partly inspired by this blackout poem.
– Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads ~ Tuesday Platform.

Becoming One

Sometimes I’m terrified of my heart; of its constant hunger for whatever it is it wants. The way it stops and starts.” Mama Zen shared this Poe quote, and then asked, “What are you hungry for?  Tell me…” And my Muse told her…

.
Touch me
yours and wild
in the dark,
make the sun

yearn for moon-
light memories,
of you and me
becoming one.

.
the wee notes…
– After rereading this wee bit, I can’t help but wonder if the speaker lives in “My Sweet Night-Mare” poem. It sounds like one of them talking, don’t you think?
– Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads ~ Play It Again Toads! (Words Count with Mama Zen, Jan 2015), and Poets United ~ Poetry Pantry.

artwork by Petra Hlaváčková
(Petra is a tattoo artist, from the Czech Republic.
I’m enthralled by her ink and watercolors).