Attention’s Coin

Clank your chains and count your change. Try to walk the line. Did you say your name was Ramblin’ Rose?~Noel Sherman

I tend to enclose flow when I’m hangry
confusing juice for food, gut-stuff angry
so useful for fuel, but it makes me sick
I worry so, intuitive and thick

each electrical connection insists
I pay and though my new training resists
the old ways persist. My suffering, clear,
is ancient. So queer its reach and grip here

in the present I gift myself with tears
allowing the ramble roses and thorns
cut quick in the midst blaring my own horn
in my gentle way. Just look in my eyes

the hurt of your judgmental critique–how you despise–

so here I breathe and tune. Healing demands
a spiral revisit of ships unmanned
abandoned at the harbor. No one hears.
The ghosts alone inhabit these old piers.

Inspired by: Hangry, Ramble, Enclosed and Tend.

Featured image: Peace rose blooming today.

Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

3 thoughts on “Attention’s Coin”

    1. Thank you, Mason. Wow, I receive all of these roses–I can’t believe how many dozens, this is outrageously extravagant. I’m still having thoughts about changing that last word to “piers” but I don’t want to be too heavy-handed.

      Liked by 1 person

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