Packed Away

Through the myriad rays of
Late afternoon sunlight
Dust flecks shift, flicker flow over
The slowly opening trunk of
Packed away memories, not mine

In fluid pen, on lined sheets
Harsh words of war, of need, his
Contrast the soft verbiage of home, of desire, hers
The sharp scratches, on unlined vellum
Scant hints of Chantilly scent
The barely there waxy impression of lips pressed
Of my triple, double and solo great grand predecessors

From a time not so long ago
When letters with news were already
Weeks old upon receipt
Instead of the instant access
That we come to expect now
No now, no now, no now, no now…

Baptismals, confirmations, certificates of life and death
And though it is not the same , freshly printed emails in san serif,
Screen-captures in HD sharpness and clarity join them

I jot a quick note of reference in cursive,
Giving the only human touch
To more papers becoming
Packed away memories, not theirs
Of my future solo, double and triple great grand successors
Before I softly close the trunk on it all,
Setting more dust flecks to drift
flicker, flow in the myriad rays
Of the fading late afternoon sunlight.

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Theme  Thursdays | Paper

At a Slant

I do not understand this slant
The course of which to rhyme
For my natural flow of banter
Escapes its rhythm binds

Is it on consonant or vowels
In which diction should rule?
Syllable counts have me scowling
In fret of lines I’ll misconstrue

Erato and I scratch our heads
And ask a boon of Calliope
For even Euterpe deeds
This may better suit Melpomene

Above lined paper my pen pauses
To wit my brain cells are not bent
I’m feeling like a poetic pauper
No, I do not understand this slant

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So at dVerse Poets Pub, Karin/Manicdaily has us using slant rhyme in poetry. Well, others are using, I’m weakly attempting, as I cannot seem to grasp my cranium around the concept. Still, The Little Engine That Could in me never says die. So as I’m wont to do when I don’t get it – I had some fun with it instead and hopefully my frustration becomes your enjoyment.

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Meeting the Bar at a Slant

Bring Her Home

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The multiple hues a cacophony of color
Cascading twixt tired fingers
She sighs knowing,
She should go do something
She should go do anything,
Anything but the nothing she’s doing now
Still her fingers swirl as she lingers

Her thoughts as deeply jumbled
as the colors before her
While she ponders the fate
Of the little girl who owns them
They will be hers again she thinks resolutely
Because she cannot think of her daughter in past tense
No, she cannot think that it is already too late

This room that hurts the most to dwell
Yet her heart carries it along anyway
When to other rooms she roams
She lifts her head to sky her heart sees
Beyond the walls of the room she stands
Praying her prayers are heard,
Praying her prayers are answered

** Hear my prayer
In my need
You have always been there
She is young
She’s afraid
Let her rest
Heaven blessed.
Bring her home
Bring her home
Bring her home

#BringOurGirlsHome
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** Gender switching the heatbreakingly beautiful “Bring Him Home” from Les Miserables.

Today at dVerse we’re challenged to write a poem about NEWS of any type. From personal to local, national, international, past, or present news. And this just happened to be sitting around…

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics – Good News, Bad News, Your News!

To Know That Kind

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I watch the moon so cold and pale
As to the dawn it starts to vale
Its glow reflecting in the dew
I can’t decide what plight is worst
In sun or moon should a heart burst?
As I recall the warmth of you

Your inner hue, not just your touch
‘Tis such and I miss it much
The deep rumbled “je t’adore”
When without fear your soul sprang free
And laid its care in none but me
And how it blessed me to my core

In these times sore I question so
To know that kind of love once more

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At dVerse we asked to do a sonnet.  I decided to give a go at one of the much lessen known Jeffreys Sonnet.

A Jeffreys Sonnet was created by Scott J. Alcorn. It is isosyllabic (only 8 syllable per line), 2 sestets with a cross rhymed couplet (the cross rhyme is in the 2nd to 4th syllable in each of the two lines of the couplet). Also there is a cross rhyme in the first line of the 2nd sestet (between the 2nd to 4th syllable), tying the 1st sestet to the 2nd. So the rhyme scheme would be: aabccb, (b)ddeffe, (e)g (g)e. The letters in ( ) are the cross rhymes.

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Meeting the Bar ~ Rhyme and Sonnets

Because She Knows

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Because she knows the end is near
No, things weren’t quite as they appear
She’s forced to face her own worse fear
Proof that he holds another dear

Her world, now turned upon its ear
Because she knows the end is near
A love that had no other peer
Has turned to one that can’t adhere

The pain she feels is so severe
She may lose all held in revere
Because she knows the end is near
She starts to get herself in gear

Her actions now become quite clear
Protect what’s left, which she holds dear
She wipes away her final tear
Because she knows the end is near

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Having another turn with the Quartern.

National Poetry Month 2014 – 8

I Offer

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I offer unto you these hands

Their hold is strong, but never tight

I offer unto you these arms

To keep you close both day and night

I offer unto you this heart

The broken shards that you made whole

I offer unto you this grace

That you complete body and soul

And all I ask of you is this;

To answer ‘Yes’ with one sweet kiss

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National Poetry Month – 2014-4

Breaking the rules using a rhyming Sonnetina Uno while Meeting the Bar at dVerse.

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | MeetingTheBar– Emotion in poetry

Perfect Stranger

I do love her still, for she’s still mother
Though oft she calls me by names of others
Her soft eyes remain, shining warm with care
The curves of her body, her graying hair
But her mind now slides from what’s really there

Her concave lips form that familiar smile
Like when she showed off her latest hairstyle
Even with loose curls each strand was in place
Particular to the point of basket case
Never walked out the door without her face

Made a clean home look easy to attain
My haphazard ways were always her bane
It gave her license for years to nitpick
My style she joked was an urban beatnik
But she loves my roast chicken with garlic

Her home now’s not what I thought would occur
But she’d gone beyond my means to help her
After jumping with haste to a rescue
When she tried to melt wax for a fondue
Insists utensils could be eaten too

She’s no longer the mother that I knew
Some days it takes all just to muddle through
I look at her and it’s my face I see
So it’s twice as hard when she looks straight at me,
And then asks ‘And who are you sweetie?’

That I remind her of her little girl
Who fidgets wearing pinafore and curls
She’s the woman that once knew me so well
But if she knows me at all now I can’t tell
Yet I know her deeply, and that’s my hell

Roles reversed, she’s the one whose hair I comb
When I visit her at the nursing home
“See this pin my girl gave me yesterday?”
I was a child, it’s so old in years even I cannot say
But for her, the years time has washed away

Seeing the pin makes me break down in tears
She coos “Oh miss, it can’t be that bad dear”
I fall in the familiar arms of hers
As everything becomes just one big blur
And I cry upon a perfect stranger

Pictures Taken

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Such silly smiles that split the planes of our faces
Vacations have a way of doing that
Pictures taken visiting places
So happy anywhere we’re at
Dressed in our Formal Night styles
Now looking over these
Staring at our smiles
I’m on my knees
Tell me why
I cry

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I recently came across some images of my late-husband and I on our very first cruise together. It was a bittersweet discovery to say the least.

I haven’t done a form in a while and what better way to kick off National Poetry Writing Month? This form is called Emotive Ten.

Emotive Ten (nonce form)

An Emotive Ten describes some form of emotion and has ten lines, the only restrictions is that it is syllable based.  It starts with twelve syllables and throughout the poem working its way down to two; it should describe usually an emotion in paradox, i.e. life to death, loneliness to love, light to dark etc.

If rhyme is used it must go with the syllable count in numbers and rhyme in letters:

12A, 10B, 9A, 8B, 7C, 6D, 5C, 4D, 3E, 2E

An alternate rhyming suggestion is a/a/b/b/c/c etc. The form can also be done in reverse, still ten lines, but starting out with two syllables and ending with twelve.

I Fell In Love With You Again Today

Braden Summers - Gay Couple

Braden Summers Photography
(Click for full size)

I fell in love with you again today

The good times that made us friends
Between the breaths of mine you took away
How the simple thought of you
Kept playing over and over in my mind

Remembering the day that we met
The emotions that had no words yet

I fell in love with you again today

The hard times that made us strong
The way I made you smile to learn
You were the shoulder when I need to lean
The ear when I need one to bend

There was that magic in the past
That makes our love today still last

I fell in love with you again today

The sweet times that made us lovers
And I smile remembering
Those first fears, the arguments
Yes, even the break-up and reconciliation

For in your smile I still find peace
In your arms I still find release

I fell in love with you again today

The best times that made us spouses
And all of those old feelings
Came rushing back on fresh wings
Once again brand shiny new

For after all our time together
I still believe this is forever

And I fell in love with you again today
====================

I actually had an entirely different poem in the queue setup for today. Then a friend posted a link to the Braden Summers collection on Buzzfeed that contains the above photograph. I, and apparently my muse, was enamored of this image, the last one of the set shown on the website. This is an image of a mature love, but clearly a still very happy and giving love. Whether a real couple -oh I hope, they look so happy together!- or merely models, I felt the couple looked like new lovers and the write you see above was born.

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight : Week 133

You Know You Want Me…

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I take a gulp of calorie free air
To stave off the craving I’m trying to brake
But I just can’t cope for goodness sake!
It’s not that the bunch of grapes are bad
Save it’s just not the thing to make me glad
So I’ll not lend an ear to its call
I’ll not let my gut be my downfall
I’ll not waiver from my niche
I’ll not satisfy this itch
Though it’s call is to me is proud
I’ll not give in it’s not allowed
“Just a thread of a piece” the call starts to quiver
No! No! No! Oh all right! Just a tiiiiiiiny sliver!
Knowing straight to my hips is where it’s bound
It’s a slippery slide from a diet to a pound
Oh why did that rhubarb, to me, start to talk?!
Guiltily home, with my whole pie, I walk

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…because I’m in a silly mood

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight Week 132