Someday I want to go to Greenland
That fabled Viking Fantasyland
Eric assured all it’d be a nice land
though, it’s much icier than Iceland.
Someday I want to go to Greenland,
That rarely ever seen land.
.
In the WordPress map of blog viewers, I have visitors from all over the world, but I have never had a visitor from Greenland, so I thought I’d write a little ditty about it. Have you been to Greenland? What is it like?
The strings and the fingers
are smiling tentatively at each other,
recalling long ago acquaintance
but feeling shy with each other.
Once, fingers danced with strings
for hours, without a glance to
the books of lines and staffs that
were their matchmaker.
Then they were separated
and the comfortable rhythm
they once shared
slowly dissolved
into awkward tentativeness
on the rare occasions
when they came across one another.
Relationships take commitment,
after all.
Now they’ve been reintroduced.
The matchmaker pushes them together
and fingers hesitantly
caress the strings,
leave them vibrating,
longing for more.
.
It’s been far too long, but I’m finally back playing the harp. So far I’m working on a great book, Rose in Winter, by harpist Sharon Thormahlen of Corvallis, Oregon. Her original pieces are so pretty and fall easily on the fingers. In this photo (circa 2002) is my Bresch Jubal harp (33 strings) behind and my double strung Brittany from Stoney End in front. (The Brittany is cherry, and has the most beautiful, shimmering grain and a tremendously loud voice for a wee harp!)
God has left a toe
nail clipping on the best
blue velvet bedspread.
I don’t know you
and now I never will.
I wanted to.
.
Now you’re gone forever
and I will never
know you,
love you.
.
But I will grieve
for what
might have been.
Love this one from Haiku Andy!
leaving the office
late, but oh!
the molten sky
Band room:
contained in music
insulated from the world
wrapped in rhythm.
Sanctuary
while I waited
for my love.
.
.
While I was editing Grace Awakening Myth today, I came across this observation in chapter 3 or 4, and I thought Ben’s words sounded like a poem. Now they are! (How appropriate, since Ben is Orpheus, demi-god of music and poetry!)
What was YOUR sanctuary in high school? For me, it was either the art room where I spent hours working on school yearbooks, or Mr. Gobolos’ math room, where a gang of us hung out, played goofy drama games, and discussed theology.
I am
the common denominator
in my life.
If trouble comes
time
after time
after time,
relationship
after relationship
after relationship,
What each event
has in common
is me.
.
In Grace Awakening Power, Bright tells Grace that she is the common denominator to the problems. It’s not that it’s Grace’s fault that bad things happen to her, but they aren’t happening to other people, they’re happening to her, and it’s something in her that brings the trouble.
I’ve been thinking about this one a lot lately and wondering how to change the factors that result in the common denominator of my experience. How about you? Can you see how changing one or two things could change your experiences in a profound way?
PS. If find it very interesting that when centred, this poem took the shape of a punching bag. You punch these bags, and they whip right back at you. It seems full of profound symbolism. How do you interpret it?
A warm wind invites much lingering
Rain like a spectator listening
to the gold geometry
where my heart used to be.
Finding myself in Italy,
all I ever wanted to be.
I’m not broken:
shattered iris,
experience of sensuality.
You would be here
under the silky shield.
Stifled tremblings,
a flock of hardy souls
haunting the spaces.
Today I am deep purple,
written in the ink of my tears,
staring at the tea.
.
Second verse, same as the first! Single lines collected from poems on the blog roll from between 1:25 and 2:25 PDT April 8, 2013 and turned into a found poem. If you recognise a line from your poem, please link to your poem!
Shawn L. Bird 