Quiz Prompt Poetry: Spirit Animal (Owl)

Salt of Earth

I’m “the owl”, grown into being
symbolic of wisdom and truth
sighted beyond mere years of time
sinful to those who ignore truths
  who’d paint a bird and call it death
  name it and nail it upon homes. *

Existence-compounded data
keeps me from such absurdity  

Like the owl, watching and worldly.

©2023 LifePoetic™ All Rights Reserved.

*In early Rome, owls were an evil omen. “A dead owl nailed to the door of a house averted all evil that it supposedly had earlier caused.” –The Owl Pages

Inspired by Colleen M. Chesebro’s #Poetry Challenge No. 322 for #TankaTuesday, which is based on one of those fun internet quizzes. What is your “spirit animal”? (I didn’t post a tanka, but did use syllabic verse). Visit Colleen’s post for any prompt guidelines.

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From ancient literature to modern literature and TV, people have been portraying owls as wise creatures, bad omens, harbingers of illness, and death. These solitary, nocturnal birds of prey with fascinating characteristics and recognizable physical traits have inspired all sorts of superstitions and myths.

M. Gould



Write, unwind, relax

the work of writing
impresses me not of rest
though I love it so
it uncomplicates therefore
unwinds bound-up perceptions   

©2023 LifePoetic™ All Rights Reserved.

On Writing as Activity to Unwind and Relax

Although my tanka poem entry might seem to differ, I completely agree w/ Sadje‘s points of experience—final result being a kind of relaxation . . . a keen sort of calm, capable of establishing composure or order in thought. Once experienced, to consider it again is the road to dedication [to habit] and greater perspective.

Inspired by David’s W3 #56, “Relaxing with Blogging” and Suzette B‘s prompt to write a haiku or tanka about “a favorite way to relax/unwind”; found, and also inspired by, Sadje’s “Relaxing with Blogging” entry linked previously. Thanks for the prompts, fellow writers/poets/bloggers . . .

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Land of Nod

I sleep
Loosed mind-folly, recognizable in part
Often confirmational

But unknown elements pervade some slumber  
Lingering, even upon the conscious mind
Uncertain times

Two or three notable dreams, or visions
Repeat with some insistence that I take notice
And I do, in dreamland

Carry them along, even as I try a run
Delights of Nod, morphed into fearsome life  
Perhaps misunderstood

Within me grows apprehension, confusion
With these, burdensome heaviness: I’m not to move until
I wake

Written for dVerse Poet’s Pub Poetics: Visionary Poetry prompt. Hit the link for participation guidance!