What if I have faith, yet love not my neighbour - who am I?
What if I have love, but care not for my soul - who am I?
What if I have fame, yet possess no sanctity - who am I?
What if I have wealth, yet have no health - where am I?
What if I give charity merely for fame - where am I?
What if I have everything I need, yet there's no peace within - where am I?
What if I knew all things around me, yet know not of my destiny - where am I?
I became nothing,
nor will I reach anywhere,
Like a rudderless vessel
Upon a vast endless ocean.
A torrent of thoughts
swirls in my mind,
I channel them through
the tip of my quill and
tether them on a sheaf of papers.
There’s a plateau in my heart,
sizzling hot like bacon on a skillet
where a scoop of ice-cream melts
like the sweat of my brow
shimmering like the mirage
in a hostile desert.
Like the vast expanse of an arid land
swept by the wild winds
and overrun by tumbleweeds,
My spirit
wanders the realm of subconscious
with an unrelenting query
that it yearns in vain to grasp.
tossed back and forth,
a wilted flower floated,
in whirling currents~
our life moves on rudderless,
to be cast in unknown shores.
Nov.14.2022
~ Placed Third~
A new Hiku Footle Tanka Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Brian Strand
So I’m here in the bedroom.
Looking for what?
Fetching what?
How did I get here?
Before… rushing to the bedroom
Used to be a fervour of arms, pressing flesh, kisses
Caresses, tumbling to soft covers,
Clothes scattered in swathes
Heat and passion were here once
No man is seductively waiting for me now,
No sighing, whispering,
The climb up the stairs alone causes panting.
These days
A package of creaking knees and empty brain
I turn 360 rudderless, rotating
A useless turbine of energy spent
Thinking to descend and start over.
Ah,there it is.
The thing I came looking for
The bread!
the
rain
pelted
down
hard,
stabbing
my skin
like glass.
soaked
wasn’t
the word.
drenched.
drowned,
in this
cataclysmic
whirlwind.
brain matter
compressed,
with rushing
winds,
my breath -
desert parched.
if only the
lightening
would stop
my beating heart -
the massive clot
the broken sob of
pain, unending
screams of thunder.
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