Hubris
The amber glow of candle light reflects against the wall,
but caught up in your hubris, you don’t notice it at all.
You seize the chance to prattle on about your newest deal,
overlooking table settings and this tender veal
I’ve cooked just to your liking. The asparagus grows cold
as you expound on how intelligent you are, and bold.
While I, my dear, think my own thoughts concerning your bombast,
of how this anniversary might well be our last.
A Sedative Soliloquy
He was a jovial companion, but his constant burbling ways
inevitably put folks in a protective daze.
So although I’m sure his ego assured him they were rapt,
in fact it was illusion. All too frequently, they napped.
Prompt words today (actually, yesterday’s as I’m running late) are burble, illusion, jovial and inevitable. Here are the links:
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/10/06/rdp-saturday-burble/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/10/06/fowc-with-fandango-illusion/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/10/06/jovial/
https://dailyaddictions542855004.wordpress.com/inevitable
Miss(ed) Popularity
Her inflated ego received its puncture
just precisely at the juncture
of her ego colliding with
the truth that contradicted myth.
That she was hot was not debated—
just whether she was educated,
for it was clear to any fool
mere heat does not determine cool.
The prompt today was “punctured.”
About that picture. I was walking along the shore and saw a man sitting in this chair drinking a margarita. “That’s the life,” I said to him and at this point he got up, offered the chair to me and gave me his margarita. With the other hand he took the camera from me to snap this photo. As he did, this woman came out of the ocean and posed in front of me. I swear this was not set up–at least by me!!!
There is a rear view I will spare your from. Well, what the heck. Why spare you from anything?
I cannot face the infinite—
that colossal haunted house—
too many rooms seemingly empty
that teem with invisible somethings
that I can’t comprehend.
How could I find myself in such vastness?
What in those giant corridors knows I exist?
Ego, finally, my undoing, as I fear
becoming part of what I find impossible
to grasp.
Everything I am
yearns towards the specific—
fine detail being more or less
how I have spent my life.
How can such a life be reconciled
with the infinite? Everything
cycling up and up from nothing
and, we fear, back down again.
He who says that nature is not ironic
lies or simply refuses to face the truth.
It is a cruel infinity that has included
such a tiny space
for me.
The prompt today was “infinite.”
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 