From a new ten-word challenge

Occupied by a Phantasm

She appraises her situation and,
faltering from the typical, she fears
reaching conclusions with a negative
bent. She has considered becoming like
those expatriates who have abandoned
their home; she contemplates leaving her own.

This place – once house, once home – is occupied
by a phantasm, a ghost of wounded
life consistent with nightmares not yet gone.
She searches for the revelatory
dream, the midnight images that will shine
quasar-bright, bring her back to positive.

Ignoring thoughts collie-herding her to
the edge, however, a slow smile begins.

~
Siobhan
09/24/2011

 

Full Circle

 

An End that Was Not
 
Coming full circle to this day added
grey to her hair, stripped the youth from her eyes,
and brought her closer to herself. The prayers,
pleadings, silent promises find their voice
in written words, in poetry she needs
to release, plastering emotion on
virtual billboards so she can see it.
 
Moving from room to room, she imagines
possibilities – remembers what was.
Warmth infused walls, changes in hue and tone,
make the space more livable. Less haunting
than it was a year ago when it was
emptied of passion without a whisper
of goodbye; an end that was not an end.
 
 
Siobhan
12/31/09

 

RSVP ce n’est pas necessaire

 

No Reply Necessary

I write words as if I am waiting

for a response –

they disappear in the ether

the words mine alone,
no reply necessary.

I whisper into the darkness
hear an echo of what might have been.

I stroke flesh as if I am waiting

for a response –

it’s the sensations lost

that I am missing the most,
no answering caress.

I reach out into the night
feel the emptiness surrounding me
– know it is my own touch
– know it is my own voice

understand, no reply necessary.

Siobhan
01-22-09

 

Blustery Day Musings

On A Windy Day Such As This

 

Wind howls, glass panes rattle, separate

me from the outside world – hot and humid;

I’d step out on the ledge if they opened,

just for a breath of air not over-cooled.

 

I’d drink in the atmosphere, relishing

freedom in space all around me – heaven

to beat the hell out of where I’m sitting,

trapped by responsibility, not joy.

 

Curtain covered windows block my escape,

even the brief glimpses offered by this

glass cage high in the ivory tower

don’t satisfy this desire to run.

 

I would dance with the storm-scattered debris,

relish it with abandon – if only…