Another audacious day

Morning keeps arriving
with a slap of good intentions —
cheeky red reminder
that fortune favors those
bold enough to get out of bed.

Do I merely follow the sun
on Instagram or
dance cheek to cheek
with others audacious enough
to face another day?


Phillip Knight Scott | © 2019

Written for dVerse Poets Pub Quadrille #91 – Keep. We must write a poem of exactly 44 words, including the word keep.


A cosmic chorus

The lyrical sun meets the day hopefully,
a low trill softly rising like the hum of footsteps
falling on the hillside, bringing goodwill
to those who listen. That subtle, haunting
sound warbles in the ears of humanity,
perched above us but inviting fellowship.

There’s a lesson here, I think — the light
recedes and returns (a tide for the whole
planet not just the flustered oceans)
permitting the moon to hold luminescence
until it illustriously trumpets its return — 
an example of civility for deaf ears.

Are we more moon than jelly fish? 
Do we hold a mirror to the light, feigning
a warmth we have not within us? Or can we glow
from within, lighting a course for people
to accompany us as we find the chords
to harmonize with the orbiting haloes 
circling us in a cosmic chorus?


Phillip Knight Scott | © 2019

Written for the BrewNSpew Cafe weekly prompt “haunting” …. though admittedly not so much with the Halloween. 🎃 👻


Sunlight

History shines here, filtered
through the trees and mixing
with the sunlight that warms our
necks just as it did
years ago creating a dense fog
we’ve almost stopped
noticing.

We choose the sun, tickling
our necks as we face
another day, heads held high,
with a long-remembered warmth encircling,
enveloping,
encouraging us onward.

We find the heat, massaging
our chests as we perspire
through the thick air, breathing hard,
with a too-familiar determination warming,
warning,
wearing us onward.

Still, we live in its shadow,
and while we choose to
stay in the light we see
our shadows play longer
though we blindly seek a refuse
from cold breezes
stirring up again.


Phillip Knight Scott | © 2019

This is a revised/mutated version of a couple of poems that have morphed into … this? Can poems be living things? Or is this merely a matter of me being hard to please? (No comment on that.)


A loud sunrise

Photo by Sue Vincent

The sun screams from behind
darkened clouds –
a crescendo of deep oranges
bustling just over the horizon.

A din of shaggy clouds hang
higher, standing with a clamor
before the blues of another day
waking up with fresh eyes

and stale breath. We inhale
the new day – the tumult
from another revolution
erupting to wake us, wiping

the night from our eyes –
and blinking, step into the light.


Phillip Knight Scott | © 2019

Written for the Thursday Photo Prompt “Murmur” #writephoto from Sue Vincent
Submitted for dVerse Poetics – Meet the bar – Metaphorically speaking #dVersePoetics


Fade to

The mouse crept beneath a window,
hushed footfalls ringing with regrets –
cheese (oddly placed) left untouched,
cats (strangely absent) go unseen,
cold mists (often intoxicating) left outside.

The moon acts traitor to the day,
exiling sun pillars to memories,
its cryptic desire for dark
in a world teeming with low-lying rodents
(best left unnoticed) puzzles the thoughtful.

We chose the sun (tickling our necks)
as we face another day living
in the audacious light where yesterdays
fade to
today fade
to regrets
fade
and we get another chance
another choice
between cheese or cats or cold mists
or creeping in the night
clamoring for the sun.


Phillip Knight Scott | © 2019

A few prompts on this one:
Putting My Feet in the Dirt : “sun pillars
Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Get Listed! with Helen Dehner : “a
bsence” “audacious” “exile” “clamor”
Word of the Day Challenge : “traitor


And then

A funeral, then the beach –
tastes hot in my mouth,
clinging to top of my mouth,
lingering unwanted
black heat into the void.

The sun insists on spitting
spicy splinters of light,
splashing in my eyes, children
playing on retinas, harmless
and infuriating – such indifference.

A hurricane, then back home –
feels wet on my face,
showering on a young shopping cart
creeping to the bike rack
winding eyes wide in witness.

I dare not wade into
mischievous waters, churning
in the pit of my stomach,
longing for relax, last
to reach the calming land.


(c) 2019 by Phillip Knight Scott

Prompt: “mischievous waters” from Go Dog Go Cafe. Come join us!


Mirrored nature #writephoto

The sun peaks between the timber
unsure, hesitant to reveal
itself fully to an insipid world
too often indifferent
to its nourishing warmth.

And still we look to it
to illuminate the beauty too often
unnoticed – the greens shining
with life, brilliant and glistening
in the early morning.

But the pond holds close its treasures,
refusing to admit
the luminous gleam as we are left
to wonder what mysterious riches
lay submerged,
twirling in the dark

secret celebrations beneath the calm – looking
glass turning glamour
upside down
for our benefit. I dare not
provoke ripples.


(c) 2019 by Phillip Knight Scott

Written for this week’s photo writing prompt courtesy of Sue Vincent’s brilliant #writephoto challenge : “mirror”

Photo by Sue Vincent

Also written for the Ragtag Daily Prompt – “insipid”


sunlight

We chose the sun, tickling

our necks as we faced

another day, heads held high,

with a long-remembered warmth encircling,

enveloping,

encouraging us onwards.

We found the heat, massaging

our chests as we perspired

through the thick air, breathing hard,

with a too-familiar determination warming,

warning,

wearing us onwards.


For the dverse prompt : temperature. Can you tell it’s hot here?