Inspired by Moonwashed Weekly Prompt – Magnetic &
Reena’s Xploration Challenge #354
we share an interconnectedness
drawn to each other – magnetic
the people of earth – our community
with compassion and empathy
shall there be restorative justice
and healing throughout the world
my physical realm informs me
earth is my home
no matter where i land
my emotional senses tell me
some people are home
making me feel loved and alive
providing safety
feeling home frees us
yet connections bind us
so why do i feel so disconnected
from this place where i live
i’d like to feel at home with all earth’s inhabitants
Grief and Me
I feel grief in waves
Ebbing and flowing, looking
for the tiniest crack.
I construct a dam
Keeps me from the dark deluge.
I clamber away.
Photographs
A time capsule – scroll,
Turn. And you are taken to the past.
Smiling faces gaze
Frozen for posterity
A casket of illusions
Ikigai
Some
people,
altruistic
kind, love to see
you distressed. High on
empathy, it gives them
a chance to play the hero.
Makes them feel good; it distresses
them when you save yourself. It’s hard to
carry on without a sense of purpose.
Writing and Us
You said writing had
swallowed me. Would you, rather,
sorrow engulf me?
Had I cried to you,
you would have found me tiresome
Now I write and smile
And yet you complain
What is it you want from me?
Help me understand.
Grateful for the poetry
I had been comatose. You woke me up.
Only a stab in the heart
could have done it. Thank you!
Poetry oozed from the gash. I rejoiced.
But I cannot forgive you.
The scar – a reminder.
~~~
Smitha Vishwanath’s poetry has been published in several international e-zines. Her debut novel, Coming Home, published in March 2023, has received excellent reviews. She has been selected Author of the Month 2022, 2023, and 2024. Smitha was awarded the Reuel International Prize for poetry in 2023, and her novel was awarded the Certificate of Excellence by the Asian Literary Society in 2024. She was first featured here in 2020.
If you’d like to be featured on The Short of It in the future,
click here for the submission guidelines.
#TheShortofIt – Vol 1 The Sound of Brilliance and Vol 2 Reflections & Revelations on Amazon
Redux
cut flowers
damaged to project perfection
eventually, they’ll die
it’s not natural to live in glass
we were both cut in youth
damaged to project perfection
outside showed one thing
inside was a mess
both of us broken people
trying to get it right
hard knocks
every one a lesson
forced smiles
pressured lives
hard to bloom
when defeat is all you know
Originally posted 11/26/2018 on I Write Her.
Inspired by Reena’s Xploration Challenge #323 &
Moonwashed Weekly Prompt – Resplendent
how
can one
not absorb
the reflections
of the world’s resplendent diversity
GREENHOUSE
The greenhouse is artificial tropics.
Orchids grow here
like it’s the heart of Africa
or deep in the Amazon Basin.
Outside, a flake of snow
flutters groundward,
skis down the glass roof.
In the jungle below,
a Venus flytrap
slams its mouth shut
instinctively.
SINGULAR FLOWER
All night, snow fell on snow,
like the footfall of small animals.
By morning, under clear sky,
the world wore
its white cloak of homologous mesh
through which some crocus
saw its chance and took it.
A WALK AT DUSK
Sun reduced to small favors here and there,
streetlamps dull and glassy,
but the moon, already up and about,
crosses the field of your eyes,
your mouth, your cheeks.
I take your hand,
stroll into a world
that treasures its moonlight
more than any other shine.
IN THIS PICTURE I HAVE OF YOU
You stand at the blackboard,
before a labyrinth of equations,
wonder who could possibly understand
what you have written –
for all you might have been,
teaching is where you ended up –
you have the look of someone
who’d rather I wasn’t looking at you.
HANDOFF
Together
for the first time
since the divorce,
a child handoff –
she’s looking well,
he’s looking well –
the kid’s just looking,
mostly at his shoes.
ONE JULY DAY IN NEW YORK CITY
I passed by
Paul Shaffer
on Seventh Avenue.
He gave one of those
“Yes, it’s me” looks.
Unlike Paul,
I don’t have
a look like that
in reserve.
TO BE ALIVE
It’s good to be alive.
To not be dead.
Or dying.
Or sick even.
And it’s good to hear yourself say,
“It’s good to be alive.”
Remember,
life is always
in your best interest.
~~~
John Grey is an Australian poet and US resident, recently published in Stand, Washington Square Review, and Sheepshead Review. Latest books – Between Two Fires, Covert, and Memory Outside the Head are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in the
McNeese Review, Santa Fe Literary Review, and California Quarterly. John was first featured in 2020 and then again in 2022. You can click HERE to review them. Selected pieces of his work were published in The Short of It – Volume 1 – The Sound of Brilliance and Volume 2 – Reflections & Revelations.
If you’d like to be featured on The Short of It in the future,
click here for the submission guidelines.
Redux
life is hard alone
existing
not really living
Originally published November 7, 2018, on I Write Her.
Inspired by Moonwashed Weekly Prompt – Magical Village
& Reena’s Xploration Challenge #301
it wasn’t a magical village after all
more fright than folly
of the thirteen doorways, wolves behind them all
flawed humans
same as every other place
the grass really isn’t greener over there
i guess i’ll just tend my garden here
will non-existent
surrounded by the living
growth at a standstill
“Just like the dead trees in a forest of luscious and vibrant green ones,
our society has people that aren’t growing.” Susi Bocks
We are always presented with choices in our interactions. Watch people, listen for inconsistencies in their actions, and respond accordingly for self-preservation. You have the power to control your emotional environment.
Power is contextual by Reena Saxena
I exercise choice
to act, but have no control
on others’ response
Pause, evaluate, respond
face consequences boldly
I Said Goodbye by Lorraine Lewis
I said Goodbye to
Hypocrisy dressed in white
Covering the black
I Write Her 