Poetry & Prose by Carol J Forrester
Misfortune comes in sets of threes,
but recently I’ve lost count of the omens
darkening these skies.
Understanding is important,
but so is justice, and memory to carry change
past the span of sympathetic anger.
All power in this world is man-made,
the bricks still sticky with greased fingerprints.
We were supposed to know better.
Carol J Forrester is a writer and a history geek. Her debut collection 'It's All In The Blood' came out November 2019. She has a 2:1 BA degree in history from Bath Spa University, enjoys judo at least twice a week, and tries to attend poetry events around the Midlands when she can. Her flash fiction story ‘Glorious Silence’ was named as River Ram Press’ short story of the month for August 2014 and her short story ‘A Visit From The Fortune Teller’ has been showcased on the literary site Ink Pantry. Her poems ‘Sunsets’ and ‘Clear Out‘ were featured on Eyes Plus Words, and two of her poems were included in the DVerse Poets Pub Publication ‘Chiaroscuro’ which is available for purchase on amazon.Her poem ‘Until The Light Gets In‘ was accepted and published at The Drabble and her poem ‘Newborn’ was published by Ink Sweat & Tears. She has been lucky enough to write guest posts for sites such as Inky Tavern and Song of The Forlorn and has hosted a number of guest bloggers on her site Writing and Works. View all posts by Carol J Forrester
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I’ve lost count as well of the omens. Good point at the end that we were supposed to know better. Nice set of three tercets.
Justice and memory to carry change….powerful words. I do this this time, change is within reach.
my mom use to tell me omens or signs come in 3s and I always wondered where she got that information. An old wives tale? the bible?
It’s an old superstition I believe.
I think we’ve all lost count. (K)
Lost count for sure but I hope we’ll finally know better
I like the way you used the three times three triplet structure to emphasise the opening line, Carol. Three is not only a magic number, a perfect number, but also ominous, and it’s a recurrent number in the bible. I love the metaphor of the omens darkening the skies, and the lines:
‘All power in this world is man-made,
the bricks still sticky with greased fingerprints.’
I stopped counting a while back… Brilliant poem, Carol.