August Approaches – A Puente Poem


As August approaches,

in a golden sweltering haze

Impostor-syndrom encroaches,

trapping in this self-loathing maze

I’ve lived here for ages,

familiar with its confounding ways

Seen my dreams turn to ashes,

evaporate as hopelessness blaze

~ I’ve made new choices,

now can I the changes face ~

As August approaches,

in golden sweltering haze

Thoughts of breaking free encroaches,

I have to burn this thorny self-doubt gorse maze

Learn and evolve as I ages,

find new self-caring and nurturing ways

I will rise from the ashes,

remade by this creative blaze

©RedCat

Flowers Hermitage in Winter from Wikimedia Commons

I should be asleep, but can’t because all thoughts swirling. Realized after reading others poetry, that writing the turmoil out probably where a better way than watching tv.

So sat by candlelight, watching the moon and poured it on paper.

Written for First Line Friday over at Mindlovemisery Menagerie.


Stechginster Blaetter from Wikimedia Commons

Where did the trip go wrong? – A Puente Story

PHOTO PROMPT © Russell Gayer

It had been a colourful hippie bus, proclaiming love and peace.
Vibrant, buzzing with hope and life.
Wheels turning for untold miles, on roads and in minds.
Traveling all over the country spreading the word.
Encouraging the travelers to go further, look beyond.
Envision a world where everyone belongs.

~ Where did the trip go wrong? ~

When did we lose it’s soulful songs?
Forget that a new era never dawned.
Today its message a lost echo, barely heard.
Such sentiments much harder to find.
The world full of nature’s destruction, division and strife.
A faded, bleached out memory overgrown with weeds.

© RedCat

Vasilios Muselimis on Unsplash

Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers.

This is my third Puente poem, the others are, Another Piece of the Puzzle and Sounds in the wind which is a story inspired by art.


Click here to read more Friday Fictioneers or participate.

Click here to read other stories by me.


Sounds In The Wind – A Puente Poem

Tawny Owl At Coach And Horses by John Law

Somewhere in the golden dusk a tawny owl calls
From another direction wooden wind chimes makes a dull sound
Over at the pub there’s cherry voices
Comforting homely noises
I lean against the ancient stone wall
Exhaustion pulling me to the ground
I’m just gonna rest my eyes for a minute

~I’m awakened by a trumpet~

Over the hill comes the crest of a centurions helmet
The air fills with the sound of marching feet
The rattle and clang of weapons and armour
I scramble for my bow and arrows
They fill the air like a flock of sparrows
The romans have come to another tribe uprising meet
Certain their might will make them the victors

©RedCat

Roman Soldiers by Jane Cornwell

I learned the Puente form just yesterday, and as I so often do, had to write another one as soon as possible to get a feel for the form. 

It can be both rhymed and unrhymed, both mine and rhymed, but with different rhyme schemes. This one has the following rhyme scheme: abccabd d defggef.

Inspired by all three works of art for today. To read all poems go to The Wombwell Rainbow.


The Sky Is Filled With Voices by Kerfe Roig
Jane Cornwell


likes drawing and painting children, animals, landscapes and food. She specialises in watercolour, mixed media, coloured pencil, lino cut and print, textile design. Jane can help you out with adobe indesign for your layout needs, photoshop and adobe illustrator. She graduated with a ba(hons) design from Glasgow School of art, age 20.

She has exhibited with the rsw at the national gallery of Scotland, SSA, Knock Castle Gallery, Glasgow Group, Paisley Art Institute, MacMillan Exhibition at Bonhams, Edinburgh, The House For An Art Lover, Pittenweem Arts Festival, Compass Gallery, The Revive Show, East Linton Art Exhibition and Strathkelvin Annual Art Exhibition.

Her website is: https://www.janecornwell.co.uk/
John Law

“Am 68. Live in Mexborough. Retired teacher. Artist; musician; poet. Recently included in ‘Viral Verses’ poetry volume. Married. 2 kids; 3 grandkids.”
Kerfe Roig

A resident of New York City, Kerfe Roig enjoys transforming words and images into something new.  Her poetry and art have been featured online by Right Hand PointingSilver Birch PressYellow Chair ReviewThe song is…Pure HaikuVisual VerseThe Light EkphrasticScribe BaseThe Zen Space, and The Wild Word, and published in Ella@100Incandescent MindPea River JournalFiction International: Fool, Noctua Review, The Raw Art Review, and several Nature Inspired anthologies. Follow her explorations on her blogs, https://methodtwomadness.wordpress.com/  (which she does with her friend Nina), and https://kblog.blog/, and see more of her work on her website http://kerferoig.com/

April Ekphrastic Challenge – GloPoWriMo 2021

Another Piece of the Puzzle – A Puente Poem


Always felt other and wrong
Never truly felt like I belong
Never felt unencumbered and free
Allowed to just be me
Perpetual cycles of pain and abuse
Always guessing which persona mask to use
Living with nagging doubt, maybe I’m just insane

~Can a diagnosis everything explain~

Help me to equilibrium gain
Teach me what I need to know
To at functioning life have a go
Give me hope of fitting in
Break my minds eternal tailspin
Show me how to reach good mental health
Allow me to fully use my minds idea wealth

©RedCat

Sitting here wondering if I really dare to post this. Afraid to expose myself. Afraid to overshare. Afraid to be rejected once more. At the same time feeling like I need to share how much upheaval there is right now. And why. 

I’ve had bouts of depression on and off through life. And I’ve been told to view them and every other issue as stemming from the abuse I’ve gone through. That my struggles depend on that only and if I can somehow overcome them I will be as everyone else. 

Cue a new psychologist.

Who started to ask questions I’ve never got before. Who administered not just the really short screening tests (that apparently typically don’t catch female sufferers) but longer fuller tests that screen for Adhd/Add and Autism spectrum disorder. The last months have been test upon test. There are a few left but the first of the two is by now a given, the second one in some kind of high functioning way very probable.

I don’t know how to feel about either. And I don’t know if it will really help in any practical way.


I’m still me, as I’ve always been. 

Will this alter others’ perspective of me?


Written in the Puente form for tonight’s Poetics: Build a Bridge at dVerse. 

Rhyme scheme: aabbccd d deeffgg


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