Photo Challenge #90 and Wordle #228

Curly Hair

I cried all night unraveling your invisible terrain.

By morning I was sober and ready to exist,

not in fractions but in pieces too large to swallow.

People rarely believe in things that they cannot

manipulate with their senses and even with belief

it is difficult living on the fringe with nothing

but one’s own friction for warmth. There is no justice

in this world, only misguided attempts at revenge.

I am sick, therefore I am culpable, and incapable of truth.

Some people beg because they live in a state of necessity

because they are desperate to recover whether or not

their flight patterns match the current patterns of migration.

There are files with my name on it that I have never read

and never will read. I imagine they are filled with words like

“dramatic” “ liar” “hypochondriac” “woman” and perhaps

those words pertain to me, perhaps they even oppose me.

I rake my fingers through your brutal black coattails

always following never entreating, an afterthought,

flickering in and out of conception. Against you,

the lover, I cannot win but against you, the enemy, I already have.

I lace my guitar with your entrails and my boots with your soul.

There is a weakness  in normalcy that we never speak of.

A fanaticism constructed and construed by ingratiating fear.


I am so distracted today. I have an important meeting on Wednesday and a case of crazy head. I don’t feel this is finished or coherent yet but I ran out of time.



21 responses to “Photo Challenge #90 and Wordle #228

  1. The brilliance of this poem lies in its surreal great lines such as
    I rake my fingers through your beautiful black coat tails
    I lace my guitar strings with your entrails and my boots with your soul

  2. I’m not sure that this poem is unfinished or incoherent … from beginning to end one gets the impression of being somewhere along the edge of reality … but not quite there … your beginning creates the atmosphere:

    I cried all night unraveling your invisible terrain.
    By morning I was sober and ready to exist,
    not in fractions but in pieces too large to swallow.


  3. Yves … I have to agree with Georgia …. completely …. this is poem that speaks of a reflective journey …. and the opening stanza, as already noted: DELICIOUS! Seriously! totally brilliant lines and line breaks!

    The entire poem follows through and captures an interesting interpretation of the photo prompt!

    And as for not being “finished” …. is anything in life, really “finished?”

    Besides …. who says you can’t continue or write to the image again?

    Thanks for sharing your response in the prompt Yves! It’s really amazing and inspired! 🙂

    Cheers ~ Pat

      • well … take some sow breaths … and just relax… or try to … and focus on being prepared and then, until then … try to stay in the moments you have before then …. easier said then done … I know …. but well …. hey …. go for a SOC write and let your mind play and relieve the angst? 😉

        Sending you good thoughts for your meeting…. hope all is more than positive for you. 🙂

      • “Do I a link to SOC” … as in the prompt that floats around here on WP, on Saturdays?
        If you mean that one …. then I’ve done it a few times …. but other than that no.
        But it’s a totally cool way to explore and just let whatever out …. and then, of course, let it breath or mine it for treasures 😉

      • Yes I did mean, I haven’t been able to locate it, if it has a home which perhaps it doesn’t. I meant do you have a link to Soc but I forgot many of the letters/words involved in constructing a proper sentence lol I will see if I can find it, I have seen it mentioned in various posts

      • LoL … it’s okay … sometimes the mind is 4 steps ahead of the keyboard … happens to me too …. and yes, there is an official link and host site ….. I don’t have it on hand …. but Michael is a regular …. and it’s a Saturday posting…. so either check his blog and his archives … or maybe he has it listed as a sidebar link?

  4. Your poetry is so top-notch that I don’t even know what to say anymore. I could quote favorite lines, but they’d end up being almost the whole poem.

    In this case, I do intensely favor the first three lines and this: “I lace my guitar with your entrails.”

  5. Lovely writing, I love the opening and closing stanzas, they somehow depict me a huge contrast, and both are equaly powerful (not that the middle isn’t!)

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