WHAT IS WORK (hour xiii)

Work is not about the midnight calls
It’s not about the late evening client parties
It’s not about the pillar-to-post dashes on public holidays
It’s not about stealing worship presence on Sunday mornings

Work is not about the nightclub rendezvous
It’s not about killing effort and exalting results
It’s not about grave-bound multitasking that defiles time principles
It’s not about being a parent by proxy

Work is bliss as play is
It is to create and see creation flourish
It is to write and see words in command
Work is a smile, like a fruitful journey and not an avoidable end

*Inspired by the text prompt

WHAT IS LOVE (hour x)

There’s companionship
Aloneness under vast sky
Contemplating love

*Inspired by a combination of the text and image prompt


It gives you twelve months’ notice
More than enough time for a full-term pregnancy
Alas, even after the delivery
It still leaves butterflies in the belly

There are butterflies in my verses tonight
The delivered poems stutter in hollowness
Finding form, aiming to be firm
Long after the stitches heal

*Inspired by the image prompt

UNEASE (hour vii)

Reality stands on it’s head, feet flapping in the air
It’s watching the courtroom drama as petitioners and
respondents do the drama of debacle

The jury and the spectators look on over solemn lunch, as
reality stands on it’s head, feet flapping in the air
The empty high seats creak under the weight of the judges

It’s a long walk, paths snaking out from chaos toward sanity
The mob outside wait, looking to lift the court building, to chant down the street
Reality stands on it’s head, feet flapping in the air

*Inspired by text prompt


When a people mine their blood and vote with it
When a politician burns healthy chunks of their votes
When a ruling party tells the victims to go to court
When they propose to buy up the judgment upfront

Then the people shall go to the ends of the earth
Then they shall look down the edge of the flat earth
Then they shall see a bottomless pit and say it’s a luxury hotel room
Then they shall ask all those in discord to go to court

*Inspired by the text prompt

BAGGAGES (hour v)

The crowd gather at
the center of the city
Their means are stolen

There is a suspect
walking through the gaping crowd
Something is stolen

There is a suspect
guilty until Judges prove
innocent and clear

Bags of gold litter
street sides, baggages roll over
More stuff are stolen

Searchlights beam, more lights
The suspect is the lone thief
buying handshakes hard

It’s arresting time
Then the thief steals himself, and
baggages grow heads

*Inspired by the text prompt.