Tag: reflection

Reena Saxena

Published on by Susi Bocks16 Comments
Evie S. – Unsplash

THE MIDAS TOUCH

I am no Midas
yet everything I touch now
acquires new meaning
Is it an artist’s vision
or a poet’s call and yearning?

LIAR MIRRORS

change seeps in
imperceptibly
entrenches
itself in
deep psyche layers
mirrors lie with the same face

PRESSED FLOWERS

memories unfold
-a pressed flower in the book
crushed before its time
I strive to read stories etched
on petals, not the pages

BEYOND THE RAINBOW

rainbows show
multiple layers,
complex truths
in seven
predefined colors
-I look for what lies beyond

~~~

Reena Saxena is a former banker, coach, and writer from Mumbai, India. Published works are available on Amazon – When Time Stopped (Fiction), Com Pen Di Um (Poetry Anthology), Life As It Happens (Poetry Anthology), Basic Banking for Debt Recovery Agents, and E-books on Money Psychology available on the MoneyGoalz website. This is Reena’s first feature on The Short of It.

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Radhika Puttige

Published on by Susi Bocks24 Comments
Jason Thompson – Unsplash

Sunset

calligraphic swirls
paints the western horizon
scarlet poetry

Anxiety

worry clobbers deep
conquers pragmatic mindset
the present succumbs

Introspection

sounds of solitude
conversation with the soul
rejuvenation

Rage

fractious tendency
emotional servitude
diabolic mien

Blossom

an ombre palette  
iridescent redolence
floral burgeon blooms

Poetry

visceral feelings
lyrical tapestry
inky confluence  

~~~

An avid blogger, Radhika blogs on radhikasreflection on WordPress, which is a potpourri of poetry, prose, and musings inspired by everyday life. She has also published her book of poetry and haiku titled Eclectic Verses. Her poems have been featured in The Kali Project, Spillwords, The Sound of Brilliance, The Indian Periodical, and several other online platforms. Radhika was first featured on The Short of It on May 15, 2020.

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Reblogs – VJ Knutson & Anonymously Hal

Published on by Susi Bocks7 Comments
Lyyfe Williams – Unsplash

Maybe sometimes we need peace and rest, other times, maybe we just try to be there for one another?

Maybe by VJ Knutson

Maybe I just needed a new perspective –
like the famed Hanged Man of tarot –
committed to some deep, internal need,
I willed a horizontal shift; landed with intent.

Maybe it is not my legs that are disabled,
but a soul longing to escape the continual
discord of perpetual motion, a never-ending
to-do list of the success-driven persona.

Maybe there is a greater purpose for being
that is not encompassed by outer drive –
a mysterious meaning that is revealed only
in the quiet stillness in which I now dwell.

Maybe I have been called to a personal
pilgrimage – a Camino of sorts – a crusade
of spirit designed to cleanse and enlighten –
the journey is certainly arduous enough.

Maybe it is through acceptance, finally
having released a need to control, move,
achieve, accomplish that I am able to
embrace the true lessons of suffering.

Maybe this cocooning is an act of Grace
demanding surrender before the actual
transformation occurs, and I will emerge,
legless or not, winged and ready to soar.

Maybe, just maybe, this stripped down,
barren existence is not a penance for
shameful living, but a desert crossing,
offering re-alignment: hard-fought peace.

Taste by Anonymously Hal

You let your tears
patter gently
onto my face like rain…

And then I could
taste the saltiness
of all your sorrow
and your pain.

Franca Basta

Published on by Susi Bocks24 Comments
white and pink flower in close up photography
Margareta Nemes – Unsplash

Peonies

The peonies blush,
gossiping and basking in
sun-kissed harmony.

Watermelons

Still
evenings.
Juicy fruit.
Slices passed round,
Each pip a story.
I listen in wonder.
Laughter, disbelief, shivers.
Friends gather in an inclusive
circle. Ice clinks in enamel jugs.
Slices of fruit, slices of times gone by.

Expectations

Yes!
Love it!
Thanks a lot!
What I wanted!
I walk out of the hairdressers and cry.

You know me too well

Who are you? Reading my private thoughts and
looking deep inside of me.
Who are you? Oh. It’s me.

*TRIGGER WARNING: CHILD ABUSE*

Innocence dies

Please stop.
Forget my room.
I don’t like your smell or
voice or skin or words or shape. Please
let me dream about fairies and chocolate.
I want my mummy’s arms.
Not yours. Not yours.
Please stop.

~~~

Franca has an English tongue and Italian gesticulation. She’s been featured in various flash fiction anthologies and creative writing sites but felt the need to turn her hand to poetry. She loves to write with humour but sometimes the dark side of life comes to the fore. Pasta and chocolate always help. This is Franca’s first feature on The Short of It.

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Taking It All In

Published on by Susi Bocks16 Comments
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at just the right moment
breathing in deeply
just slightly past full capacity
breathing out with purpose
expels my demons as relaxation fills every ache

stepping reverently on a wooded path
smiling as the sun trickles in between the leaves
bird noises and bug rustles follow my trek
breathing in nature’s clean scent
breathing out the tension of the day

watching my child’s eyes brighten
seeing the discovery take place in his mind
such a joy to behold this sweetness
breathing in hope for his future
breathing out satisfaction as a parent

peace, connection and boundless love
in those moments of sheer perfection
reflection upon them gives me peace
knowing i’ll be taking them with me
when old age gives me less and less of them

Enervated

Published on by Susi Bocks22 Comments

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this need for silence
where solace is found
oft leads to introspection
and homeostasis

a select few
can pass the walls
which protect
the emerging strength

when charged and available again
the world a playground
selecting longevity
in a world designed to ambush

but when it’s all too much
i’ll retreat again
to the cocoon
of my salvation