Shadows and Rainbows

The season frolics through my words, and my soul shudders under sun-teased pleasures. I smile, delighting in the way my dark and my bright dance (free and bare) for all to read. Old Man Winter died screaming, but I don’t fret—Primavera kisses everything better.

limbs naked and spread,
awaiting spring’s blooming kiss,
dreaming of summer

Darkness and blood and thunder rip into my calm. Chaos cackles through walls of bone, chanting, “I slaughtered Tender and Quiet and fed their carcasses to Hel’s shadows. I’ve broken all your rainbows, my pet—no more brightness to brew thought.”

wild hearts are open
to pandemonium’s peace—
bring on the madness

In the beginning and before the end, I think (equally fine) in shadows and rainbows.

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the wee notes…
Primavera is the Spanish word for spring.
– Hel (Norse Mythology) presides over a realm of the dead that shares her name.
– Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads ~ Penultimatums: Voyages’ End (Almost), and to Poets United ~ Poetry Pantry 351.

The inspiration for the first haiku…

…and the heart of the last stanza.

A Caged Tongue

Nightmares are me
tongueless, my skull
a cage for thought,

my dying mind screaming,

Burst at the mouth now,
lest I implode later!

my mouth empty
of words,

dead to words.
.

Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads ~ “I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream”.

The Poet Needs No Gloom

To create art is “[t]o evoke in oneself a feeling one has once experienced, and having evoked it in oneself, then, by means of movements, lines, colors, sounds, or forms expressed in words, so to transmit that feeling that others may experience the same feeling.” ~ Leo Tolstoy, in What Is Art?

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The poet needs no gloom
to craft verses that swallow
the night’s dark—the world
chants of darkness, waiting
to be written into lit words
that speak of all life.

Poems aren’t always self-lived
moments;
but to survive (and to grow),
poetry must be
filled with well-tasted living—

a life-kissed quill
inspires
thought and feels.

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the wee notes…
– Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads ~ Tuesday Platform.

Blacked out from handwritten poem bits I share on Instagram, and stitched to recycled coffee filters (I can’t drink coffee, so I look for any excuse to sniff it *mad giggles*).