Skip to main content

Decisions

 Sharing for The Sunday Muse #165:



it's the bad decision
offer me a ride; let the wheels spin
it's the wrong decision
there's a blacktop where we've been

We've sent the leaves to vortices, up within our spin
Trees still lean above us, tangling shadows in the wind
There's no road that holds us, errant in our tin

it's the bad decision
made with brevity and whim
it's the wrong decision
on the blacktop where we've been

-- Chrissa 

Comments

  1. robkistnerJune 19, 2021 at 1:00 PM

    This reads so well Chrissa — fluid and pedal to the meddle… ;)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Carrie Van HornJune 19, 2021 at 2:00 PM

    Wow I really love this poem Chrissa! A warning, a message, a song, and advice we may not have taken. An amazing response to the image my friend!!

    ReplyDelete
  3. indybevJune 19, 2021 at 2:08 PM

    Bad decisions, wrong decisions, blacktop in the past. Haven't we all? Well penned!

    ReplyDelete
  4. kaykualaJune 19, 2021 at 5:41 PM

    Thoughtful take Chrissa! An impending consequence keeps us smiling at the end. There is a tinge of humour, here!

    Here!

    ReplyDelete
  5. FireblossomJune 19, 2021 at 6:28 PM

    All roads lead to Rome, just some roads may be bumpier than others! ;-)

    ReplyDelete
  6. Sherry Blue SkyJune 19, 2021 at 7:38 PM

    I so love the repeated "on the blacktop where we've been." A very cool poem.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Gillena CoxJune 20, 2021 at 5:58 AM

    A whirligig from start to finish, a high contrast to the image prompt Nice one
    Happy Sunday

    Much💛love

    ReplyDelete
  8. hedgewitchJune 20, 2021 at 7:06 AM

    Very imaginative use of rhyme, nicely paced. I love that last (chorus-like) stanza, and the feel of an inevitability to everything. The middle stanza seems like a lament, as well as a call and response to the first and last. Skillful and evocative writing. It's the bad decisions that we can't leave behind.

    ReplyDelete
  9. HelenJune 20, 2021 at 12:31 PM

    On the road again ... with an edge. Brava, Chrissa.

    ReplyDelete
  10. .June 20, 2021 at 1:36 PM

    Love the imagery. The flow sugggests to me how easy ad decisions are, even when they are wrong. 'There's no road that holds us, errant in our tin'

    ReplyDelete
  11. CadJune 20, 2021 at 2:20 PM

    Tangled shadows in the wind - hmm. No plain sailing in such weather? :-)

    ReplyDelete
  12. ms_liliJune 20, 2021 at 6:03 PM

    Sometimes the bad decisions are the most fun, even if you end up paying, with interest, later. Been down that road a time or two.

    ReplyDelete
  13. JimJune 20, 2021 at 10:00 PM

    Yes, but the paved road is sooo boring.
    Fun read, Chrissa.
    ..

    ReplyDelete
  14. Marion HortonJune 21, 2021 at 2:11 AM

    Oh yes, all those decisions made in haste .... I enjoyed this ride.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Treacle Season

  Sharing with The Sunday Muse #190 ,  hosted this week by Carrie. Keaton was great in that show—the one with wings— Where he was constantly a [man]child on a ledge  dreaming an angel who became a superhero.   She was a sarcastic (fake?) angel—it was the 80s— But always good, on time, her lessons easy, Easy as it would have been for him to fall.   The metaphor so obvious...but I didn't get it. Nor the easy and obvious good. (/s)   I watch the TV movie every other December Remembering believing in easy And crushing on this character, that city...   Angels should be sweet, sarcastic figures, knowing (like nurses and social workers) we prefer Sleeping on the ledge, reckless to call for "heroes." To clear up any confusion:  there is no Michael Keaton movie we watch every holiday season. Although, if there were...I'd probably watch it.  -- Chrissa
16 comments
Read more

Turn Away

  Sharing with The Sunday Muse , for #193. Turn away, like the moon, listening... Listening to the planet that rumbles with a hundred million slaps. All the feet, all the rockets, all the  pistons in the cars on the asphalt over the chasm where the veins run deep, blue in sunlight, black at night. Running over the chasm.  Once or twice they ran to you. Once or twice they ran by. Greetings and salutations. The sky is an entertaining shade of concrete yellow as the rain promised earlier in the week makes good on its arrival. It's a disturbing bright sallow sky, the kind of sky that puts you in mind of old movies and degraded film stock and the pops and crackles incidental to the main story.  Several years ago I made a resolution to journal more and last year I came across a video that suggested I actually re-read those journals, at least those of the previous year, at the beginning of each new year. Technically, I have kept the journal resolution, making daily notes in the margins of
15 comments
Read more

Revelations

 Sharing with The Sunday Muse #169 : It takes time for the quest to settle into your calves, to work through your soles and up to your shoulders, spreading through nerve and vessel until  you can't go home because you've already left something of yourself there. You can't be in two places at once. You remember vacations but now you think your family's plans probably resembled some supervillain's monologue:  we'll do this and then take them here. It'll be fun. When do you leave the house on time? Who's time? There's a collar of dead bushes at the lawn in front of the gas station, a tiny, grassy patch of the suburbs beyond, ruins of landscaping, bright, dead. Two years ago feels like twenty, feels loud, a power wash of wind through the window; roaring down the dry sewers that funnel a/c through the lawns and backwards, carrying dreams dry and sharp. At this speed, everything cuts as it passes. Appendix 1:  Chrissa is Full of Stuff and Nonsense Let'
13 comments
Read more