In the hanging basket:
skeletal memories of
last summer’s blossoms.
poem- see love April 23, 2015
As these lines came into my head, they came on a suspiciously familiar tune, so I think of these as song lyrics, and I will have to see if my harp and I can turn them into a song at some point. In the meantime, they’re a poem. (I wouldn’t hold your breath for the music, just so you know).
.
You don’t look.
You don’t see.
You don’t hear.
You don’t speak
words she needs you to speak.
You’re not listening
when her heart weeps.
You don’t hear.
You don’t hear!
Please come here.
You must look.
You must see
what she’s trying desperately
to help you see.
You must hear
how she’s struggling with her fears.
You must speak,
whisper love,
for that’s all she truly seeks.
Look.
See.
Hear.
Speak
Love.
poem-spring snow April 22, 2015
This April snow
fills the air with pink petals and
scents the sky with spring.
.
.
http://www.napowrimo.net prompt for today, Earth Day, April 22 to write a pastoral poem, one about nature.
poem- NaPoWriMo- I know April 20, 2015
I know
wholeness
snapped pieces
knitting together
painful steps
I know
laughter
echoes of memory
wishing toward tomorrow
wanting it to be.
I know
potential
dreams bouncing
around halls and walls
I know.
.
.
Today’s http://www.NaPoWriMo.net prompt was to write ‘what you know.’
poem- landay April 19, 2015
Today’s http://www.NaPoWriMo.net prompt is to write a landay. This 22 syllable couplet poetry form is a secret, underground women’s poetry in Afghanistan. I was fascinated by this article about collecting landays in the war-torn land. This secret voice tells us about the real undercurrents, the real experience, of life for these women.
.
When the woman is Afghani,
The power of her voice is found in hidden poetry.
.
I am profoundly touched to read these secret treasures that vividly paint a reality we know so little of. This is the hidden power of poetry, to condense so much into a few lines. I like that they’re meant to morph as the lines are seized by others, and the message is intensified or modernized .
.
When the woman is Afghani,
The fire in her voice is found in flames of poetry.
.
The form is supposed to be 9 syllables on the first line, 13 on the second, but my first lines all kept turning out as 8 syllables, so I just made 14 in the second, to reach 22. (as per my Poetic Licence).
poem- NaPoWriMo- Rush & Hurry April 18, 2015
Today’s NaPoWriMo.net prompt in honour of the Midnight Ride of Paul Revere is a poem on a theme of rush and hurry.
(and today I was delighted to discover I am the Day 18 featured poet for yesterday’s social media poem. How lovely!)
.
.
When it’s true
there’s all the time in the world.
Slow down.
.
They say
“Marry in haste, repent in leisure.”
.
I remember seven months
when time stood still
and you were the air I breathed.
.
In haste, married,
then filled a house with babies.
Now they’re gone, but you’re still here
Our leisurely repentance
is luxurious reward for our haste.
.
.
Happy 30th engagement anniversary to my love. (4 months after meeting and 3 months to the wedding!)
poem- social media found poem April 17, 2015
Today’s NaPoWriMo.net prompt is to create a poem from social media
So here is a found poem created from snippets of 15 current statuses of people on my Facebook feed (in order):
.
.
It was never your destiny to take the easy or quiet route through life.
Home, sweet sweet HOME.
I’m in the same room
fixed up all nice today
Are there any 5 year olds out there?
You never go to the cupboard and find the bottles empty.
My mom surprised me
You can’t really hate on suffragists and true feminists
Luckily for horses
They featured me in the news letter
People wonder
I’m a mixed metaphor
(must shower)
literary treasure.
Best damn car chase I’ve ever seen!
.
With thanks to (in order) Ursula, Andrea, Jodi, Paige, Joei, Carol, Kowan, Desi, JM, Ben, Krystal, Jodi (again!), Diana, Sylvia, and Blu.
8 writers, 2 musicians, 5 former students.
Jodi’s line was “I’m in the same room as Dougal McKenzie! (And he’s wearing a kilt.)” We’re totally jealous! 😉 (Except maybe Diana. She’s probably over it by now).
poem- Outlander terzanelle- time April 16, 2015
She falls through time
he’s everywhere
assumes a crime.
She’s gone to where
her heart finds home;
leaving despair
he waits by stones
then moves along,
lost while she roams.
New life, new song
Heart home, the past
She learns she’s strong
her love slips from her grasp
tears her in agony
The question must be asked
Is it him, or is it me?
For this is destiny
A journey through time
to find her love sublime.
Today’s NaPoWriMo.net prompt is to write a terzanelle: a cross between a villanelle and a terza rima. I chose to write on Outlander, a little awkwardly! lol But I only have half an hour to spare for this, so don’t be too demanding. 😉 The rhyme scheme is
ABA
bCB
cDC
dED
eFE
fAFA or fFAA.
poem- poetry April 15, 2015
It bides,
waiting out of sight.
It hides in
quivering leaf
tearful cheek
passionate heart.
It burrows
into dark places’
shines
with glorious abandon,
lingers, longing for you to see.
Poetry.
.
.
Today’s http://www.napowrimo.net prompt is to address a poem or component of a poem. I think the goal is to use apostrophe, but that’s not what I ended up with. Will metaphor/personification do?
poem- he said she said April 14, 2015
That scarf was a ridiculous purchase, he said. I don’t work for you to buy gauzy strips of gratuitous fabric.
I don’t know why, she sighed, you insist upon these games
Because, said he, games are fun. His lips quirked up on one side. His eyes were dark
Not always, she said. Take chess, for example.
Racing is fun. Speeding around the track, outmanoeuvring competitors. I never liked chess. All that cornering the king. It’s unbecoming.
Oh I know, said she. She touched the damned scarf to a lit a taper and tossed it out the window as it flared. Oops. How clumsy of me.
His eyes grew wide and he rushed to the window to see flames rapidly licking the dashboard of his Aston Martin convertible.
You always forget that the real power on the chess board is the queen’s, she said, as he raced shouting from the room. Check, mate.
.
.
Today’s NaPoWriMo.net prompt is to write a dialogue poem.
Shawn L. Bird 