Today's Phoenix Poetry Challenge inspiration is to write 2 poems inspired by the prompt Empty Cart. If upturned and everything spilled out or empty, what would you put back in? Again this is a metaphor for life. The quote offered is a good one - New beginnings are often disguised as painful endings. by Lao Tzu - but I am again struggling with the prompt word. Here goes.
Renovations
by Marilyn R. Wilson
From the moment we moved in,
And for the eight long years following,
Our house sighed and whispered,
Occasionally visiting us in our dreams.
Only 11 years old when we embraced her,
She was now almost 20.
Her dreams were of reinvention.
The kitchen, too small and cramped,
Opened wide and given new life.
New cupboards, new gadgets,
More brightness and warmth.
We finally heard her yearnings
And agreed to the change.
It began with a conversation,
But moved quickly to chaos.
Cupboards and shelves contents
Spilled out onto the floor,
To be sorted and packed lovingly,
Sent away to find a new home,
Or sadly discarded as trash.
The furniture had to be stored away.
Walls denuded of their art.
We stood in silence in this empty space
Filled with echoes of our lives.
But from this black hole
Arose an exciting new landscape.
Wood floors glorious reborn.
Light and joyful new tiling
New wood cabinets glowing warmly.
A shiny, white porcelain farm sink.
Gone was the confining peninsula.
In it's place a butcher block cart.
When the last nail was hammered,
The last tile put down, and
The last glitch corrected,
Items thoughtfully packed away
Were placed lovingly in their new home.
Newly reborn and glowing,
Filled only with cherished treasures.
Our house again sighed.
But this time it wasn't mournful.
The breath was instead full of gratitude.
As we gazed upon our new landscape
Put our feet up and relaxed in comfort.
Our home offered a beautiful thank-you.
From the bottom of its heart.
The Pursuit of Followers
by Marilyn R. Wilson
Create a name, choose a picture, then publish.
Followed by building, building, building.
Trying to get those numbers to rise.
It's a bit like throwing shit at a wall
To see what sticks.
Some of the strategies don't call me.
There are others that offend me.
What's left are those I am drawn to.
Post a picture, get the right hashtags,
Reach out, comment on others.
My numbers rise quickly
Like a helium balloon suddenly freed.
A web of connections and welcome
Mutual support builds.
Then Gozer the destroyer arrives.
Just like in Ghostbusters.
A hacker than slipped past all my defenses.
A trickster of the first order.
Gone - gone - all the hard work ruined.
Wresting control back proves impossible.
Sadly I wallow in self pity,
Then put on my big girl panties.
Create a name, choose a picture, then publish.
This time, however, the focus changes.
The quality of connections takes the lead.
The pursuit of followers fades.
Each new relationship is vetted carefully,
And most follows flow both ways.
From you to me to you to me.
Returning to the beginning,
With the knowledge already gained,
Has offered me a different perspective.
And a new way to move forward.
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