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Disposition

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Used with Permission: Emily Blincoe

 

 

You

cannot fix me.

My voids are custom

 made, specially designed

for comfort. Don’t arrange my

faults like feathers in a row,

plucked and sucked dry so

you can take credit

for my flight.

It isn’t

r

i

g

h

t

.

 

Written for dVerse – “Poetics: Arrangements by Emily Blincoe”

Umbra

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shadow

 

 

Shadows are born

From breath of light

Betwixt the twigs

They play and meddle

Draping black veils

Over earth’s stage

This is where

Leaves spot dance

One last time

My heart dips

And sways

Between  sweet

Sounds of sunbeams

And  the monotones

Of solitude

 

Today at dVerse, De is our host serving up some quadrilles or Q44’s as we like to call them. She has chosen the word “shadow” that must be included within the poem.  Join the fun!

 

Collaboration for Peace – 33

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Photo: Mish

 

UnMasked

 

it was the ghost of a smile
you tried to hide
behind a calloused hand
that was the first crack
in your prickly facade
a secret sense of humor
you tried valiantly to keep
in check
and when that grand guffaw
was set free
I knew you had a tenderness
inside

 

© Candace Kubinec
 
 
 

Spirit Birds

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Feather me, hawk

To help me see

Feather me, crow

Please balance me

Feather me, dove

To nurture and love

Feather me, bluebird

With joyful words

Feather me, eagle

To make me wise

Feather me, seagull

In freedom, I’ll fly

Feather me, falcon

To heal my soul

Give me my wings

To make me whole

 

A late response to Victoria’s poetic prompt, “Come Fly With Me”

It’s  Open Link Night over at dVerse Poets Pub.  Feel free to share a poem with us!

Waiting on Wings

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My days have suddenly become empty. Disconnected. As my feet take to the path along the pond, I am immediately transported to a better world, a wiser system of life. I am guided by the goldenrod that edges the marsh, layered by clouds that whisper October. Distant sounds of the highway become muffled and soon forgotten. My haven is solid. The sun starts to melt on the horizon, pouring liquid gold ripples across the water. They reach for me. I reach for my camera. As I look through my lens, a large swarm of gnats dance against the glow and I wonder how these lowly beggarly bugs can possibly steal the show…but they do. Hundreds of starlings arrive in what seems to be chaotic confusion, contrasting with their precision landings on swaying reeds. I start to climb the rickety wooden lookout and again curse at the park for not replacing the missing step. There must be other people like me that don’t like missing steps. Perched and ready, I wait for the geese, my constant. Usually the honking is outrageously loud as they begin their dissension, but  I hear nothing but a few lonesome tootles. I wonder if they’ve found a new venue and why. The sun lays itself over the pond to bid farewell. Clouds become fuchsia pink feathers, a delicate distraction as the night sky slowly envelopes me. I question my instinct to leave. Am I afraid of the darkness even in the comfort of this paradise?

 

autumn winds waver

memories fade on still waters

sun dips into dusk

 

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Written for “Haibun Monday: Winds of Change” led by Toni Spencer (kanzensakura)

Join us at dVerse Poets Pub 

Collaboration for Peace – 32

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Photo: Mish

Build Up

Let’s learn from
the past
spite and envy
slowly crumble our
foundations
we gradually collapse
under their burden
Let’s build each other up
bit by bit
word by word
creating a future
of peace

© candace kubinec

An Artistic Blend with Bev

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One of my favourite blogs is artpresciption.com by Beverly Dyer, an artist who works with acrylic, watercolour and mixed media. She is also a Certified Botanical Illustrator. I am always intrigued by her unique style. Beverly was so kind to offer her lovely work to me for some poetic inspiration.

 

 

feb-9-tree

 

Awake I am rooted

Tethered, duty bound

Muffled by the fog

In dreams I drift

Turquoise, featherweight

Mellowed by earth’s song

 

 

wren-journal-page

 

The wind took my words

         To cradle, now churning

            Twisting and turning

      Filtered the facts

  Flicked lies at my back

S t r e t c h e d  and  sizeable

         Unrecognizable

               The wind took my words

 

 

purple-wildflower-meadow

 

If I could take the blue of you

And blend it with the mauve of me

I think that somehow we would be

A garden made in heaven

 

 

Images © beverly dyer

Poems by Mish