ASKEW

 

Recently, my lifes been on

opposing turnstiles. Things run

askew. No more right is right,

wrong is wrong

 

Sure, Ive had a lot of letdowns

along the way--that missing,

meandering kind of life. You

would think that living in your

own head space for that long,

your versions would get less

humiliating. You would think that.

 

But a boring, uncharacteristic

life doesnt get the flair its due

 

Tortured sometimes, I plunder

into sharp and brutal strife--

its complicated. Doors, closed

and uninviting, continue

haunting without grace.

Nighttime garners a sickly

force, forsaken by wavering

days.

 

Slowly I blink the sleep from

my eyes and contemplate my

doom.  The warming hills and

vital forest echo within my

dismaya songbird chirps her

eager grace and warms honors


healing air. Natures simple,

luscious fate waves in

beauteous clarity

empowered to soothe ones

thirsting pain and linger my

sadness away.


 

 

 

 

CONSENT

 

 

Serendipity

wasnt etched in mind

as my damaged affairs emerge vulnerable

 

 

or was it a test of will? Ex-lovers

proclaim me a champion

of gathering, chaotic storms

 

 

Changes can emerge

to camouflage bleeding hearts.

Without your knowledge, without

your consent, I choose to heal

 

 

Your sullen words unfurl blunt, magnetic darts.

Frothy, conniving secrets embrace my

desolate, flaky thoughts

 

 

A brash idea begins

to conquer fertile minds;

my healing song of strength

cajoles inside your veins

 

 

beckoning

its new-found power, as smiles

linger within my warmth


 

 

 

IN THE MALL

 

 

At first she refused to sway, her chitchat so sneakily,

Perhaps you should lose some weight

Our trendy parcels lurch mid-air, not sure

of their faade. My friend, Lucinda,

flips curly bangs away from botoxed eyes,

poised to abandon, she stares ahead

fretting this drama wont be good.

Silent, hoping this story is done, her

blurt defeats good style; this rudeness

is simply scathing for it to continue on.

She turns her shoulders away from the gang

and grabs her Gucci bag, misguided mantras

deployed in haste, there will be no latts today

 

 

Patricia Bruce

 

BIO:  Patricia Bruce is a retired actor living in Western Canada and working toward her BFA.  Patrica enjoys sharing the angst and hope of young adults through the eyes of a Senior.  You may read Patricia's work in:  Calliope, Poetry Quarterly, Crack the Spine and upcoming in Big Pulp.