Poetry Monday is a challenge, normally hosted by Diane at On the Border.
But from Monday, January 8, 2024, Messymimi
and I have conspired to keep the chair
warm for her, as she's taking a break due to
health issues. We will each set the topics for one month, I began with
January, Mimi supplied for February, and so on until Diane returns.
Today is Distancing - at least in my place it is now 4 years since Corona close down.
And once again even if this was my own prompt, I had a hard time writing anything. I ended up writing a very moralistic, harsh and angry poem. I was not proud of it, and pre-scheduled my post to one minute before midnight - giving myself time to find a more gentle approach. This obviously did the trick. This is a much more positive approach on the same thoughts.
I still hope to find a nicer version of myself in the coming Sprin-y, sunshiny days. Winter has really had it out for me this year!
Close-down 2020 and today?
Together at a distance.
We needed assistance
We fought with consistence
And we gave resistance
To the bugs.
Could we do the same -
With distance and shame -
To drinking and game
To crime and to blame
And the drugs?
- - - - -
Next Monday: Meaning
Disclaimer for the A-Z Challenge. I will visit blogs, but I won't necessarily comment if the contents do not speak to me.
I will mercilessly remove comments only made to generate views like: "Nice blog, please visit mine".
mandag den 11. marts 2024
5 kommentarer:
Jeg bliver altid glad for en kommentar.
Jeg prøver at svare på alle kommentarer - og lover at hive alle kommentarer ud af spam-fængslet så hurtigt som muligt.
I am always grateful for all comments, and try to reply meaningfully to all of them.
I furthermore promise to pull your comments from spam-limbo as fast at possible.
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Kommentarer til indlægget (Atom)
A good poem, and a good question. The world feels such an alien place now.
SvarSletThank you, sadly it is probably a god question with no answer.
SletAnd yes indeed the world feels like an alien place. I still do not feel as if I have landed after the isolation, and every time I open a newspaper, I feel like they're talking gibberish or are about to deconstruct the world. I hope I - or the world - will snap back into focus soon.
PS: comment freed from spam-jail.
SletI wish this could work. Good poem, Mother Owl.
SvarSletSo do I - and thank you Jenny_o.
Slet