Category: Questioning

What If?

What If?

If the sky cracked open
and I was swallowed up
Would you miss me?
If the moon one night
refused to shine its light
Could you still see me?
 
If the coast was swallowed 
by an angry ocean’s rage
would you care?
If all the fabled stories
of Aesop were burned
Would that be fair?
 
If one day I floated
away like a balloon
Would run after me?
If the sun ever fell
From the sky
Would you let it be?
 
If the venturesome
Lost their nerve
What would occur?
Would it be natural
to give up?
If that’s what they’d prefer
 
If we had all the answers
To hypothetical questions
What would that indicate?
That we care enough
to ponder, what if?
and persistently formulate
 
 
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©
 
In response to the following prompts:

Hélène Vaillant's Photo Prompt What Do You See

National Poetry Writing Month

And now, for our (optional) prompt. Today, we’d like to
challenge you to write a poem of the possible. What does
that mean? Well, take a look at these poems by
Raena Shirali
and
Rachel Mennies. Both poems are squarely focused
not on what has happened, or what will happen, but on
what might happen if the conditions are right. Today, write
a poem that emphasizes the power of “if,” of the woulds
and coulds and shoulds of the world.


Word Prompts:

Fab or variations 
Venturesome
Coast
Natural
Personification in Writing

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Unity

Unity

Why do we walk
on different paths
in a world of sameness?
 
Choosing to separate
By culture and creed
Excusing it is shameless
 
Visibly different, but
skin and bone equal
Colors result of geography
 
Shapes and sizes
varying, and
down to demography
 
Heartbeat rhythms
And eyes that cry
Bones that will break
 
The differences minor
When all said and done
We all feel the ache
 
Blood the same color
Pumping and
yet unknown
 
Running through
Each other’s veins
A comfort zone
 
Color blindness
Should be our
only disability
 
A wedge driven
Between the cultures 
causing global volatility 
 
Embracing differences
Seeing the other side
Brings togetherness
 
Why do we walk
on different paths
in a world of sameness?
 
 
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©

Written for National Poetry Writing Month
April 2019 NaPoWriMo - Day 2
Today's Prompt - Questioning Poetry


Photo by Matteo Paganelli on Unsplash

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Disconnection

Disconnection

Passion reaching a dizzying height
Stars bursting in the sultry night
Two entwined bodies
glistening with sweat
Each one breathlessly spent
 
Slipping back into the forgotten gown
The temperature starting to come down
Escaping into the darkness of night
Hoping to forget all
By morning’s first light
 
He had excited her like no one before
Carrying her gently across the floor
Thrilling her with each caress
Murmuring softly
Easing her body from that dress
 
Reluctant to leave, her feet made of clay
Never had she felt this way
The connection she felt was strong
She watched him sleeping
Deep down knowing it would be wrong
 
At the door with one final glance
Did she dare take a chance? 
Fly away now
Best to be gone
After all, he is just another John
 
 
Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©

DVerse Open Link Night hosed tonight by Grace

Word Prompts:

Passion

Temperature

Philanderer

Philanderer

He welcomed her at the door
with his engaging smile
He had poured her favorite drink
Copious petals were strewn
across the floor
A carpet of red and pink
 
An intoxicating fragrance
and soft music playing
Was this too extreme?
The aroma of cooking
A romantic table set for two
Was doing much for her esteem
 
She immersed herself
into the bath he had drawn
The water was soothing
and feeling therapeutic
The candles flickered
Sensual oil calming
 
As she lay soaking
Pondering the events so far
She had developed a theory
Although charming he was slick
The intentions clearly devious
His actions definitely leery


Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:

Immerse

Extreme

Copious

Theory

Photo by Anita Austvika on Unsplash

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Perdition

Perdition

Love is an illusion
Conquering all
In the fiery furnace
Burning you with desire
It will you enthrall

Deciduous horns
Giving way to new growth
Lost In a burbled frenzy
You promise the devil
Your sworn oath

Cards in play
Could be your downfall
Queen of Diamonds
Greed and avarice
Disguised as jovial

Change inevitable
Never say never
Taking the road to Perdition
and condemnation
Before being lost forever

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing

Word Prompts:

Card

Inevitable

Deciduous

Illusion

Jovial

Burble

OctPoWriMo – Poem a Day – Prompt – Conquered

Photo by Miguel Orós on Unsplash

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©

Rendezvous

Rendezvous

Lightly falling rain
soaking her hair
Excited she moved quickly
Anticipating
Feeling the chill
of the night air

Branches hanging low
snagging her dress
Oblivious to the elements
Extremities turning numb
Her zealous thoughts
she could not repress

Sheltering under the trees
he saw her running
toward him
In all her beauty
even disheveled
she was stunning

Facing each other
he was reticent to speak
Holding back his words
reining in his actions
fearing the havoc
he might wreak

Looking into his eyes
she knew it was wrong
Her head lowered
in a shameful repose
She opened her eyes
but he had already gone

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Word Prompts:

Reticent

Zealous

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Questioning Myself

I am the status quo
My temperament even
Contained and rarely sad or angry
Life is too short for either
I rationalize the ups and downs of my life
Easily, effortlessly and with thought for others
This is who I have learned to be
When your sweet soul gets lost in your indignation
The dark shadow encompasses you and all in your path
Which includes me
I dread it
It comes from nowhere and swiftly
It swallows me
Stripping me of my composure
Sucking me into the abyss of whatever has displeased you
You feel justified in your state
And question my emotions
That are now so unraveled and visible
You have no patience with me
And you are now challenging in your address
You feel justified by your displeasure and subsequent rant
And you cannot understand why I do not agree
How does this happen?
I fear it and when it comes
It is as if struck by your words
It is not a happy time
I struggle to get past it
I sweep it under the carpet and pretend it didn’t happen
I enable you
By doing so you get a free pass to do it again
What does that say about me?

Christine Bolton

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Biting The Hand That Feeds Us

Biting the hand that feeds us 

I heard a news story just the other day that the owner of a wildlife sanctuary in South Africa had been severely mauled by a lion, that he hand-reared from a cub, in a ghastly attack witnessed and filmed by staff and his tourist/clients.The graphic video showed the owner entering the lion’s enclosure and suddenly the lion started running towards him in a threatening manner.  The owner tried to get back to the gate but the lion reached him before he could escape and dragged him towards the bushes. The lion began to maul its owner to the horrifying screams of the witnesses.

The good news is the owner is alive and recuperating in hospital with a broken jaw and neck injuries. The sad news is the lion was killed.  It appears that the owner was investigating a strange smell in the enclosure that had been upsetting the lion for several days. If only the animal could have communicated what the problem was, right?  Well, of course he couldn’t, he was a wild animal.  Reared in captivity but still wild by nature.

This story made me realize how tenuous any relationship can be regardless of the species and the love that is shown.  Whether a long term partnership or a brief one, there is the possibility of irreparable damage to the relationship for one or the other involved. It can be as simple as drifting away from each other through indifference or as severe as an abusive situation.  What is it about us, as a species, that we allow this to happen?  In the case of the lion and its owner there was love and respect between them, but there was a language barrier.   Between humans there is no excuse.  We have the ability to speak.  When something disgruntles us or makes us unhappy, as with the lion and the bad smell, we at least, can communicate that verbally.  The lion did not have that opportunity.  As a result he lost his life and his loving owner ended up in the hospital.  In my humble opinion talking to our spouses and partners about everything, good or bad, is the life-blood of a relationship.  Communication leads to love, respect and the understanding of each other’s feelings and enables us to grow together.  If only the lion and the man had that ability.

Biting The Hand That Feeds Us

Mysterious and wild
Beautiful and brave
The king of the jungle
Went to his grave

He was just a cub
When he was bottle-fed
Raised lovingly in captivity
Until he ended up dead

He loved his owner
And that feeling was shared
Until the fateful day
When his owner got scared

Their eyes locked for a moment
But the message was not understood
One started to advance
The other ran as fast as he could

The hand that fed him
Was about to be bitten
The wild in the animal
Showed he was no longer a kitten

The king was the hunter
The man became the prey
No good would come of this
There were no debts to repay

The man is a mere mortal
An the lion is a beast
So a lesson to be learned
Is that man was almost the feast

Christine Bolton

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Again – Poem of the Month – March 2018

Monotony, Same thing over again

Again

I have been here before
This place, this time
It feels the same
My heart feels the same
The date is the same
The year is different
What does it matter
The traditions of this day
Cause more pain and
More questions than necessary
I fall victim to this celebratory
Time again and again
It means nothing to me anymore
Once it was the hope
The expectation
Of things to come
Now it is a chore
A day to be spent alone again
Every year for whatever reason
It is inconsequential
It is underwhelming
It is dull
Next year I will disappear
From time and space
So I do not have to answer
Those inevitable questions

Christine Bolton

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