Poetry

On Her Day, She Wails

Posted on by Khaya Ronkainen / 36 Comments

Great mother of all
on her day, she wails.
A crude joke,
heavenly gods
left her clutching
ungrateful offspring
her wide-bosomed
frame ravaged.

Whoa! She cautions
Milk supply insufficient
to feed ever-growing
numbers.

Nipples cracked and
bleeding, gaping maw
continues to suck
her dry.

Be merciful to the innocent:
rocks
clouds
streams
glaciers
and all
creatures
that partake
for survival.

Generous in nature
she bellows gutted
not to be abused
by the amused.

On her day, she wails
for anyone with ears
to hear her cries.

In response to: “On Her Day, Gaia Wails” Dark Poetry for the Cruellest Month Challenge.

Poetry

Somebodyism

Posted on by Khaya Ronkainen / 22 Comments

Sensitive and misunderstood affliction of the soul
manifests in bewildering ways:
excessive unhappiness
wounded confidence
ego under stress

Tried and tested:
a dose of tears as often as required
some swear egomania offers temporary relief
and awareness soothes the compassionate soul

But F.I.N.E symptoms soon emerge
(Freaky, Irritable, Neurotic & Emotional)

Patient confined with imaginary friends talks about
words, together they coin a new term – talksanity.

Proud of achievements, talks about ME
all the time. An irritating itch
on susceptible wounds

Urgent medical breakthrough needed
as somebodyism continues to infect
inhabitants of the vale.

Note: I have to admit, I found this prompt difficult. I hope I did it justice.


In response to: “Write a poem that illustrates the symptoms of a quirky made up illness” Dark Poetry for the Cruellest Month Challenge.

Poetry

Coloured Flashcards

Posted on by Khaya Ronkainen / 23 Comments

Bring me all your dreams
of splendid restful nights
flashes of inspiration
envy to your friends

Bring me all the flashers
especially the one
with sterling ideas
pinned
prized
a collector’s item
things colourful dreams
are made of

Bring them all!
Let’s create flutter fun
fantasy and nightmare
to dance with fire
for the witch must burn.

Note: We still burn witches (effigies) in Finnish countryside, that is, Easter & Midsummer Bonfires, a tradition carried over from pagan days. I found this practice peculiar at first but nowadays I enjoy it, for reasons that have nothing to do with the tradition.

Also, I’m a list freak. I’ve got a number of ‘to-do’ lists going at the same time. I pick colour of flashcards (according to the mood) and write ideas, one-word triggers, one-liners, dialogue from my eavesdropping occupation and so on. They decorate my working space. One day I promise, I’ll peel them all off the wall and throw them on the fire. Imagine what peculiar fun that would be!

This poem is in response to the prompt, “I enjoy peculiar fun” Dark Poetry for the Cruellest Month Challenge.