602 : Our Rupert

Three Word Wednesday requires participants

to use the three words of the week in a composition.

The words this week were Anticipate, Fearless and Serene.

Inspired by Rallentanda, with an election eight days away
And the media attack dogs running with full blood-lust,
I present:

Our Rupert.

The boy from Oz is most serene,

It’s going to his plan.

Anticipating we will consent 

To anoint his chosen man.

Headlines define the battle lines—

Dissent is on page twelve.

Our fearless Rupert intervenes

As we cannot trust ourselves.

.

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© J Cosmo Newbery 2013

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601 : The Doldrums

The Doldrums.

The sails are slack, 

There is no breeze,

No relief.

The sea is flat, stagnant.

Missing is a driving force,

A force to begin, 

A force to move.

The sailors fret 

And mutter

Dark words of rebellion.

I don't much feel like writing.

Don't feel like much at all really.

The prompts come and go,

Viewed in a desultory, 

Disinterested sort of way.

How can I write to that?

Stagnant.  Still. 

Paralysis.

I look at the screen blankly,

Almost panicking that little comes,

But almost relieved, for other reasons.

As some stuff, dark stuff, comes, 

Bubbling to the top,

All tentacles and malice.

Like all monsters from the deep

It should stay there.  

I push back.

A lone dove sits on the yardarm,

If it sees land, it says nothing.

.

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© J Cosmo Newbery 2013

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600 : Flights of Fancy

“I always wonder why birds choose to stay in the same place 

when they can fly anywhere on the earth, 

then I ask myself the same question.” 

― Harun Yahya

Three Word Wednesday requires participants

to use the three words of the week in a composition.

The words this week were Distinct, Irrational, Sullen

Flights of Fancy

I should know better.

No, more correctly, 

I do know better.

But I can't help myself.

I suppose that makes it irrational;

To know something but deny it,

To do or feel the opposite,

But that's the way it is.

I want to leave this place,

No, no discarding mortal coils,

Just a distinct dislike of where I am;

A deep need to move on.

I feel remote,

As if watching from above:

Detached and disconnected,

Wrapped in a sullen, sodden blanket

That dampens the spirit

And extinguishes all hope.

The days are grey and joyless,

Interspersed with false smiles

And fake assurances.

It is very depressing.

But I am not a tree,

I can move.

.

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© J Cosmo Newbery 2013

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599 : A Stranger in their Land

Sunday Whirl (Wordle #122) presents a list of words

that we must incorporate in a writing piece.  

The words this week are:

floor, heart, stay, dreamed, persuaded, period, 

degrees, years, space, nestled, if, vision, tribute

A Stranger in their Land.

I  slip through the grove of trees,

A stranger in their land;

I don’t think they notice me at all

Or dismiss me out of hand.

It seems my vision has degrees,

Some dreamed and rather grand;

Others stay in a foetal ball

And refuse to go as planned.

But my hopes are nestled in warm arms

Upon the forest floor,

Persuaded that the space is there

To grow and then explore.

My heart absorbs these leafy charms

As if there were no more;

A tribute to the years of care

Through periods of war.

For few can see what others see

What demons they withstand,

And only they can heed the call,

Of pipe and marching band.

I  slip through the grove of trees,

A stranger in their land;

I don’t think they notice me at all

Or dismiss me out of hand.

.

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© J Cosmo Newbery 2013

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598 : Donning the Familiar

Three Word Wednesday requires participants

to use the three words of the week in a composition.

The words this week were Regulate, Habitual and Distraught.

Donning the Familiar

It is easy to slip into the familiar,

To don the well-known and the well worn,

Like a warm fleecy slipper;

The tyranny of the habitual.

The dulling comfort of the routine.

In such a way we regulate our lives,

Control what comes in, 

Control what goes out,

Embraced and enrobed

In the soft, warm gown of the known,

Never to meet the alternative,

The harsh and rough vestments 

Of doubt and learning.

Never to encounter the coarse 

Fabric of the unfamiliar

And the uncomfortable.

No, we retreat into secure, wrapped

In the soft Terri towel of the certainty

That only ignorance can bring.

Should we stop to think?

Stop to question the orthodoxy

Of our views, 

Inherited and embraced,

In their iron-clad entirety.

We run the real risk of—

Of what?

What are we afraid of?

Would questioning leave us distraught?

Floundering, unable to touch the bottom

Of the paddling-pool of life?

Confused, wondering what to believe?

Yes, probably.

.

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© J Cosmo Newbery 2013

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597 : La-la-la-la Land

Haiku Heights has the prompt 'Ocean'.

Happily, by the time I got around to writing to the prompt,

the site had not yet closed due to flooding.

La-la-la-la Land

Deniers say no

But the ocean ignores them.

Levels are rising.

.

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© J Cosmo Newbery 2013

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596 : Duplicity

Three Word Wednesday requires participants

to use the three words of the week in a composition.

The words this week were Berserk, Duplicate and Quibble.

Duplicity

People.

Really funny creatures.

They can drive you berserk,

With behaviour that defies reason

Where demons lurk

Behind

Masks of the nasty kind—

Have been

Assessed that they show

Two faces,

Say “Duplicate features”.

No quibble,

Apropos.

.

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© J Cosmo Newbery 2013

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595 : The Choice

Three Word Wednesday requires participants

to use the three words of the week in a composition.

The words this week were Jackass, Splendid and Rupture.

The Choice.

When you choose the lesser of two evils, 

always remember that it is still an evil.

- Max Lerner 

Election propaganda comes

In a way you can’t suppress,

Offering Jackass 1 or 2,

With their splendid hollowness.

The choice,

For us, the public voice,

Swimming against the stream:

Choose the lesser of two evils,

And rupture our self esteem.

.

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© J Cosmo Newbery 2013

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594 : The Last Breath.

Sunday Whirl (Wordle #120) presents a list of words

that we must incorporate in a writing piece.  

The words this week are:

gravity, plans, thread, landscape, salt, breath, 

shadow, shoes, bread, sense, sends, head

The Last Breath.

Life on this blue ball 

Hangs by a thread.

It always has.

The window of suitable

Conditions for life,

For life as we know it, at least,

Is remarkably narrow.

And it is moving.

◊◊◊

The people have never really understood,

Never really sensed the full gravity of the situation,

Until now.  

And now it is too late.

Too late to deal with the dying landscape,

Too late to deal with the salty water,

Too late to store grain for bread,

Too late to make plans to head off the danger

Just too late.

Too late.

Death will stalk the land,

In flowing robes and fancy shoes,

Dressed to kill, as they say.

And kill he will.

Without a shadow of doubt.

◊◊◊

This sends, of course,

A warning to our successors.

If they care to listen.

.

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© J Cosmo Newbery 2013

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593 : Describing the Moment

We Write Poems challenges us to capture a moment.

Describing the Moment.

Eyes closed, 

Sitting at my desk

Leaning on my elbows

I feel the pressure 

Pressure of contact,

With the desk, 

With my chair, 

With the carpet.

I am vaguely aware

Of the weight on my shoulders,

Cable knit, dark blue.

I hear the world around me.

The hum of the hard-drive

Voices from the next room

Canned laughter,

Spoons hit plates,

The low rumble of the heating.

Outside — the passing traffic.

My feet have adapted to the feel the carpet.  

I move them ever so slightly 

And countless nerves betray my action.

The brain likes movement.

Time to walk.

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© J Cosmo Newbery 2013

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