plentiful existence

wes-hicks-jaRUkG_4xDw-unsplashday after day, week after week
boxed inside monotonous mediocrity
tap, tap, tap of the ASDFJKL;
these sounds, a warning to escape

boxed inside monotonous mediocrity
what became of his dreams?
these sounds, a warning to escape
this life of the bourgeois

what became of his dreams?
month after month, year after year
this life of the bourgeois
possibilities lie heavy in his thoughts

month after month, year after year
faking the days, living the nights
possibilities lie heavy in his thoughts
the soul aches for a plentiful existence

faking the days, living the nights
day after day, week after week
the soul aches for a plentiful existence
tap, tap, tap of the ASDFJKL;

 

Written by Jennifer A. Fifield

Pantoum inspired by the lyrics, “I fake it so real, I am beyond fake” from the song Doll Parts by Hole, and the book Steppenwolf by Hermann Hesse.

Photo by Wes Hicks on Unsplash

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a happy life

gabriela-parra-66015-unsplashswirls of baby’s breath
reassuringly avow:

dreaming is the way

 

Written by Jennifer A. Fifield
Photo by Gabriela Parra on Unsplash

distant

tree in park google wikimediaEarly morning dreams
you silently,
slowly
wave hello

In the park,
of family picnics, atop
dry yellow grass.
‘Twas a version of
you. New and old. Standing,
limbs awakened.

The wave, distant.

Not knowing
what to believe, one
hopes
you see him.
… catch up
on story telling.
… fill in the holes
of
pieces
lost.

A numbed existence,
altered
by loss, has
inundated any emotion.
Tears dilute
all
that
was.

Early morning dreams
you silently,
slowly
wave goodbye.

 

Written by Jennifer Fifield
Image from Google Images

Tell me another, he says

bigstock-Vintage-Floral-Background-With-45011089a summer day on the patio:
my young knees dig
into the cushion of the chair;
bees scurry about in the flowers;
sweet lemonade sweats atop the table;
you ask me to make up another story;
but this time, to talk into the mic

 

Written by Jennifer A. Fifield
Image by Bigstock

the view, the feel, the moment

photo-1445964047600-cdbdb873673d“I’ve been here,” I whispered.

“You’ve been here? When?” he asked.

“In my dreams. I’ve been dreaming of this place for years. I never knew where or what it was,” I said.

I slowly absorbed each detail. How surreal to be somewhere for the first time, and the fiftieth time. The view, the feel, the moment – they were all the same as every dream I had ever had. And it was him, this wonderful person standing next to me, who had brought me.

Written by Jennifer Fifield

Image from Unsplash

Hay-on-Wye

Old Typewriter With Books Retro Colors On The Desk

She backed out of the front door of her apartment with her puffy purple suitcase in tow and saw him for the first time in months.

“Where are you headed?” he asked.

“To Hay-on-Wye in Wales for a couple months. I want to be inspired by all of the books,” she replied.

 

By Jennifer Fifield

Image: Bigstock