Storm, Ink, Love

I tasted the storm
feeding your tongue and my ink
(pure tinder and flint),
screaming, “Let’s spark words of love
so hot, they curl hatred’s toes.”

- for Poets and Storytellers United--Friday Writings #94: Storm, Ink, Love.

Must Taste the Thorns

not-quite Journaling, 58

8/8/2023: I ran outside today. All right, I ran/walked. My muscles are weak and my endurance is crap, but I ran on dirt for the first time in… forever. And it was glorious. I kept laughing--rather loudly--and people kept giving me funny looks, which made me laugh louder. I ran/walked for 24 minutes ([run 1 min, walk 2 min] x 8); not very long, I know, but a good beginning. The goal is to get back to running 30 minutes, 3 times a week, by the end of October.

“Baobab: Tree of Life” by Tijay Mohammed. The tree that inspired the sculpture is a symbol of life,
so… starting my run/walk there felt just right.

 

Delightful
from every angle,
my passion
flowers can enchant
in sunlight and rain.

8/15/2023: My passiflora has finally bloomed. I got to enjoy her striking curls for about 5 minutes, before rain showered them closed. Now she’s impersonating a fairy skirt--yep, she’s gifted like that.

 

8/22/2023: A 19-year-old (who might or might not be related to me) told me that “a healthy relationship isn’t supposed to be hard”. I didn’t think laughing hysterically would be constructive, so I didn’t laugh. I felt like yelling in their face, “Are you 5?” wouldn’t help either, so sent them this poem.

 

I dreamed of a life without pain,
and reality laughed.

8/26/2023: Well, maybe I haven’t truly had this dream in a while. Not that I can remember. But I still enjoyed stitching the thought. 😁

- for Poets and Storytellers United--Friday Wrings #91: Muscle Memory.