This has been a year and then some. In these past twelve months of living the life COVID, it seemed to drag for so much of it. Yet, here we are again. I start this year’s Slice of Life Challenge, now my 5th year(!), as I always do, hopeful I will finish, but fully aware some days are going to be a close call, hitting POST with bare minutes to spare. I’ve been remiss on this blog, so I am also hoping this year’s Slife of Life Challenge gets me back into the swing of regular posting again. Also, to reconnect with a few of my fellow bloggers I’ve lost contact with in the craziness of this past year. I do and say this while working on a book of poetry, along with other challenges creatively and professionally. But such is life, no?
You call me to lie in the fragrance * Of the scent of those who only care To lay odious privilege in the ways That their pale puffs of new smoke Ignore the long burning dark fumes Of those who barely dreamed to dare The dreams never given a chance
To lay odious claim in the ways The scent of those who care For traditions of their halcyon centuries When their words were held as the only Voices that ever had the means to say What was yours to keep, not ours to share
That their pale puffs of new smoke Ignore the long burning dark fumes Of the peaceful conflagrations of the tired Who’ve long held the raisining to explode** Against those that desire their sweet past resumes In a future in whose vile stench we’re again choked
For those who barely dreamed to dare The dreams never given a chance For we citizens who like you, are born here or immigrated Still find ourselves the ones on the side alienated Don’t be surprised upon return to where you’ve called me to lie Quietly with nose wrinkled and looks askance That I’m brave enough to be, to see, to rise from there ***
* Line was inspired from the last line of Season of Lilac by D. Margoshes ** Line inspired by the poem, Harlem by Langston Hughes *** Line inspired by the last line of The Hill We Climb by Amanda Gorman
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Tonight at dVerse Laura Bloomsbury wants us Beginning at the End. We are offered several ending lines from select poems to be our muse for a new work of our own. We are asked to preferably not use the offered lines verbatim as the title or within the writing itself but either cite the reference at the end or place the quote as distinct Epigraph at the top. Naturally, Muse goes a little above and beyond and reference three poems.
It’s October. Halloween is a couple of weeks away. I write Sherlock fanfic. So I asked myself, “Self, what would the classic Sherlock Holmes thinking pose look like on a skeleton?”
Naturally, nothing I wanted came premade, ready to hang. It Joanne’s, Michael’s, Amazon and even IKEA to create it. Even with ample ventilation I feel I will be smelling spray paint for days. It took several passes to get the pieces, especially the hands that dark.
It’s not exactly as I imagined it. And I am not sure, Jeremy Brett, Nigel Rathbone or even Benedict Cumberbatch would think much of it, but I love it.
Tonight at dVerse Merrill has the feel of autumn and wants to be blankest in a quadrille, a poem of 44 words, excluding the title. It can be in any form, rhymed or unrhymed, metered, or unmetered and must include some form of the prompt word – blanket.
Tonight Linda tends bar at dVerse where on this day 58 years ago The Rolling Stones released “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” and tonight happens to be Open Link Night.
For this week’s Lucky Dip, the mystery bag gives us a Tableau.
The Tableau, a poetry form created by Emily Romano in October of 2008, consists of one or more verses, each having six lines. Each line should have five beats. There is no set rhyme scheme, although rhyme may be present. The title should contain the word tableau.
For this week’s Lucky Dip, the mystery bag gives us a Tableau.
The Tableau, a poetry form created by Emily Romano in October of 2008, consists of one or more verses, each having six lines. Each line should have five beats. There is no set rhyme scheme, although rhyme may be present. The title should contain the word tableau.
One dictionary states the word tableau means picture or representation; the poem should reflect this. A picture should come to mind as the poem is read.
Muse challenges with the representation of nothingness. Nothing to see here, but you can picture it.
Just once more, he begged and pleaded to her
A hello and farewell tour as it were
She scoffs it’s the silliest thing she’s heard
And besides she’s now much too old a bird
For what purpose could there possibly be
To take on the burden of one like she
To argue money came quickly and went
Her career had made her quite affluent
Nor could he argue for awards or fame
Not with world-wide accolades in her name
Just one more stand in the glow of limelight
Doing the craft that has been her delight
Ten years had passed since she last graced a screen
And Broadway? Well that was a near fifteen
It goes back and forth for a little while
But he knows she’s in once he sees the smile
That smiles that stops men even as jaded as he
It was hard not to rub his hands with glee
Some thought she turned a new leaf in life
She brought none of the old dramas or strife
A junior diva tested this new meek
And learned from the curb that sweet is not weak
And not a step was missed as she rehearsed
Her new elegance shined as others cursed
The nocturne really tested her voice
Her body tired but she had no choice
Once her fire’s lit she’s in for the fight
And she was just fine come opening night
She trusted her nerves would not let her sway
As a full house harkens each word she says
When that solo light shines, she feels such bliss
And knows nothing, nothing will equal this
The applause thunders as the curtain falls
And she waits for the first of curtain calls
A bouquet of taffy and red roses
Greets her as she rises from her poses
She laughs at the joke, both ancient and sage
And waves at the giver just left of stage
Exhausted but grateful she has this chance
To act, to sing and yes a little dance
As the light faded, she fell to the floor
The diva had had her final encore
She was called difficult but the best
Fact to which all who knew her did attest
Eulogies told with melancholy tears
At the services filled with loved ones and peers
Every soul there agreed that it was
Fitting the last thing she heard was applause
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Tonight Lillian tends bar at dVerse Poets Pub. It’s Open Link Night, where our words are all we’re ‘just sayin’…’ | Open Link Night : Just Sayin’ . . .
Raivenne-lations 