possiblissities

A Realm of Sacred Joy

by Vivi Sojorhn(c)2024

  • Overdone

    By Vivi Sojorhn This year is baked too long or too hot or too wet . Tears fell for real, but not ENOUGH. I feel a well, an aquifer awaiting a drill to find it. Then there will be a flood. My dreams have a cork these days to avoid adding to the sense that Read more

  • Our Lady is Unlocked

    NOVEMBER PANTOUM   Under scaffold and stone, dreams rise, Once a scaffolded crone, grey and burned, she barely stood. Locks click into place, bridges sag with unrequited love, Her walls, once crumbling, sing of love reborn.   Once a scaffolded crone, grey and burned, she barely stood, Our Lady crowned anew with her sacred art. Read more

  • Do These Eggs Stink?

    PANTOUM FOR NOVEMBER   The dream hangs heavy, haunting my sleep,A nest of eggs in the Tree of Life.My life goes on, important on its own,The waiting eggs, their purpose bittersweet.   A nest of eggs in the Tree of Life, The years each a feast, though never quite complete. The waiting eggs, their purpose Read more

  • Passenger on Books

    PANTOUM IN NOVEMBER   Her grandmother drives her to the library each week, Through the White Witch’s snow and terrible shriek. The golden mane of Aslan flows under her hands, She’s a passenger bound for uncharted lands.   Through the White Witch’s snow and terrible shriek, Onto her voyage, while her parents’ drift seems bleak. Read more

  • Rolling Shadows

    Pantoums of November She rolls the napkins, smooth and neat,His laughter cuts like a paper’s edge.The pretty rings a small retreat,He taunts her with a mocking pledge. His laughter cuts like a paper’s edge,“Napkin rings don’t hide your folding flaw.”He taunts her with a mocking pledge,She swallows angers, raw and raw. “Napkin rings don’t hide Read more

  • First Snow

    NOVEMBER PANTOUN Dawn on the windshield and geese in the sky,bare branches grounded, wind continuously blows.A silk, soft wrap of snow slides in place and sighs,foggy morning plays black ice, tricking the eye with glow. Bare branches grounded, wind continuously blows,Jack Frost’s hand etching a silvery lace.Foggy morning plays black ice, tricking the eye with Read more

  • Forgive Me

    My head spins with goop Apologies for being a lemon Even though I like lemons As the flu crept in through tears   Apologies for being a lemon I tried to self-diagnose But when my knee audibly screamed I couldn’t walk and I cried with anger. I tried to self-diagnose But ended up in the Read more

  • Can We Please Be Done?

    A Cherita, October The election calendar’s tires drag, marking time through twelve more days. Once a gleaming Cadillac,now a dilapidated relic, barely holding together. Collapsed on a lot, the salesman praising its glory days,while the buyer eyes a sleek, nearly new Lincoln SUV, wondering why anyone would want to buy the past. Read more

  • Shifting Sidewalks

    An October Cherita She watches her steps, flagstones worn and layered by generations of shoes like hers. Behind the houses, where neighbors share gardens and stone-built burners, and kids burn their buttons on old metal slides — there is something — it feels safe, but shadows stretch long—too quiet if she stays too long. Her Read more

  • Second Best

    A Cherita for October They left me to repaint my room, wishing I were a boy.    Mom and Dad’s silent sighs always a specific disappointment lingering.  A daughter is never enough when they wanted a boy. Second best in their eyes.  They dreamt of games played on a field, doting love forever more.While I Read more