God has left a toe
nail clipping on the best
blue velvet bedspread.
crescent moon haiku April 14, 2013
God has left a toe
nail clipping on the best
blue velvet bedspread.
I don’t know you April 13, 2013
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.
Haiku 20130411 April 12, 2013
Love this one from Haiku Andy!
leaving the office
late, but oh!
the molten sky
band class April 11, 2013
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.
common denominator April 9, 2013
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?
Found on the WordPress blog roll April 8 April 8, 2013
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!
Found on the blog reader April 7 April 7, 2013
Poetry echoes with vengeance,
Bifurcated lamentations against mortals
Full of dirty melt water.
You tuned the whippoorwills,
we felt larger than life,
huddled together under the blustery illusion.
There’s no exit,
infinite stillness;
weighted gates have slammed rusted shut.
Catch the tears of a sinful angel
ominous beauty
with subtle return.
The waves can’t reach you.
.
This is a found poem.
As I scroll through the WordPress blog reader a few moments ago, certain phrases or lines jump out at me, so today I scribed them, and then re-arranged the bits to make something new and interesting. The challenge is that I can only use the bits I found. What do you think?
glances April 5, 2013
You wiped my eye from the tears,
Tearing yourself from the
paper poetry of your perfection,
Ripping my gaze apart.
Shawn L. Bird 