Experimenting With Creative Writing
Listening to the sound of rain
Creates serenity.
Busy minds tune into the lull.
A provoked tranquility:
Calm enough to ease,
Loud enough to dispel
Unwelcome thoughts,
Wish them farewell.
A raindrop is silent,
Until it splashes.
Like his internal plight,
Before he turns to ashes.
Image credit: Pixabay.com
In response to dVerse’s Rain Poetry Prompt found here
Damaged feelings,
Born from negative intent.
Should have thought harder.
In response to Ronovan Writes’ Haiku Challenge #312 found here
When a hardship comes sailing in,
Please allow my mind to depart.
Watch my warriors guard my heart,
Sometimes I feel like staying in,
So please refrain from breaking in.
I ask you to forgive my void,
Accept, or leave me paranoid.
Let me cry when nothing makes sense,
Leave when my feeble eyes condense.
Pity’s worthless when I’m destroyed.
In response to Ronovan Writes’ Décima Challenge #10 found here
She desperately tries to console her friend,
Though they can’t find the strength to fight any more.
Together, they once rose, but it will soon end.
Where is the man who commenced this tragic war?
Perhaps he is safer to be left behind.
At least while the pain is furiously raw.
She is broken now, all alone and confined.
The image in her head, one she can’t evade,
Resides in every corner of her mind.
When she sleeps, it replays, the night she’s betrayed.
Her sidekick, the friendship, ripped out from the core.
Pounding icicles crashed down on her parade.
Image credit: pixabay.com
In response to dVerse’s triplet challenge found here
You weren’t the first. Perhaps if you were, it wouldn’t have cut me so deep. I wouldn’t have become so numb. I may have even found forgiveness.
So unexpectedly, you cut me out of your life, as though I was a jagged edge on a piece of paper. Something so easily discarded without a second thought.
For a while, I wondered, perhaps I did something wrong? I tried to make amends, but I meant so little to you that I wasn’t even worthy of a response. It dawned on me that I held no value in your eyes.
So when you walked back into my life, did you really expect me to have left that space inside my heart all warm, cosy, and welcoming?
I have grieved, I have found acceptance, and to save myself, I have lost my respect for you.
You weren’t the first.
You won’t be the last.
When reunited,
I will crumble. Won’t quite catch
My breath. Console me.
Her hands tremble as she traces the spiralling ridges of my fingertips with her delicate fingers. I try to catch her eye but she is avoidant. I pull my hand away and she stares into the space where my palm had been.
“What is it?” I ask, hesitantly.
She gathers herself together, wiping her hands on her robes. She clears her throat, but continues to avoid my gaze.
It then became imminently clear that my palms did not narrate tales of good fortune. No, that look was unequivocal. Only tragedy; a succession of disappointing events lay ahead, steeped in loss, fear, and grief.
It was too late to consider whether there is any truth hidden behind the creases on your hands. Continuing to walk the same paths with the same attitude became a risk. It was from this day that I carried gratitude with me wherever I went.
Gratitude reminds me that beneath the pressure of life lives a dormant element of peace. She had failed to find resilience at my fingertips.
An old post, rejigged for MindLoveMisery’s Fortune Teller Prompt found here
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