Tag Archives: Poetics

The Shame Of It

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Artwork: Shame by Ally Saunders

Artwork: Shame by Ally Saunders

What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
Hurt – Trent Reznor (Nine Inch Nails)

I was darkness and fury
To your light and sun
On a whim I simply snuffed it
It’s a hurt that can’t be undone
I thought I knew what I was doing
To take you for granted and then some
Only to simply walk away
Leaving you as chaff in the wind’s sway
And how the shame of it numbs
What have I become?

With me as predator and you as prey
I shot an arrow through your soul
You had no chance in this farce
There was no means to console
I thought I knew what I was doing
Going for the break, not just the bend
Damn how your body trembled
As your soul disassembled
And how the shame of it wends
My sweetest friend

You were my own soul’s mirror
Shattered in a thousand places
And I felt the pain as my own
In a thousand fractured faces
I thought I knew what I was doing
How I’ve come to rue that day
Seeing the evidence of what I did
I was loathe to leave it hid
And how the shame of it stays
Everyone I know goes away

You never said a word, I know this
But somehow your break struck me to the core
Never one to rage, yet it changed you
And everyone wanted to know the score
I thought I knew what I was doing
Now I am the chaff in the wind
The wounds of my hateful inflections
Forever bared in my reflections
And how the shame of it does rend
In the end

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At dVerse for the first Poetics for 2017, Mish prompts us to reflect on new beginnings as she shares the works of various artists and invites us to “Choose the piece that speaks to you and let the words flow.” For me it was “Shame” by Ally Saunders that got the ol’ muses attention first, for shame of ones actions can bring change and new beginnings to the instigator of such as well.  With “Hurt” by Nine Inch Nails as further inspiration, I use my beloved glosa form.

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics ~ New Beginnings

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RealToads – Tuesday Platform

I Think of Spring

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A subtle intangible thing
These fallen leaves how they array
In autumn leaves I think of spring

Yellowed hues to the grounds cling
Bringing to thought vernal displays
A subtle intangible thing

I find my heart has taken wing
On how new blooms of crocus sway
In autumn leaves I think of spring

My eyes spy fall’s warm coloring
My soul denies thoughts of decay
A subtle intangible thing

A whim of my own soul’s choosing
This feeling does not go away
In autumn leaves I think of spring

I feel first hints of winter’s sting
Yet smile as I go on my way
A subtle intangible thing
In autumn leaves I think of spring

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For the first dVerse Poetics of 2017, Mish offers us an array of art and asks us to use one as inspiration of  New Beginnings. My chosen image brought to mind the bright yellow of daffodils in spring. Spring is new beginnings in its own way, so that’s where my muse went in the form of a villanelle.

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics ~ New Beginnings 

A Recipe for Hygge

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A large dose of merriment in the holidays that herald the coming of winter, regardless of hemisphere.

Delight in the dashes of Joy that are the a blanc beauty of fresh fallen snow.

Dollops of peace in enjoying the solitude of a good book or movie, new or old.

On a snowbound night – nothing re-hydrates like hot cocoa if cold; a chilled chardonnay if warm.

Dole heaps of compassion and goodwill for humanity’s less fortunate.

Whisk together friendship where the pot luck results in a smorgasbord of laughter and love.

Keep an extra roux of wisdom and strength on hand for rejuvenation to reduce the doldrums that may appear. Serve yourself and others liberally as needed in remembering it is only a season, and like all seasons, this too shall pass.

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What is Hygge? If you were to try to translate it, hygge (pronounced hoo-guh), like duende, it is more of a feeling than a word. It’s sort of a full-on embrace of all things toasty, cozy, and restorative to the soul, especially in wintertime.

Today at dVerse Michelle (Mish) tends the pub for Poetics and challenges us to create our own “recipe poem”, but not of the culinary kind. To instead, write about something more abstract such as “a recipe for love”.  Thus, for those of us, like myself – who are not major fans of cold weather –  I present my recipe for getting through the winter season quickly encroaching on the northern hemisphere.

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dVerse ~Poets Pub | Poetics | Recipe Poems

 

We are in the first full week of December and several of my northern friends are already facing snow. It seemed a good time to get this recipe going.

 

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Slice of Life Tuesday Writing Challenge : Two Writing Teachers

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Imaginary Garden – The Tuesday Platform

 

I Am Ready

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A million candles burning for the love that never came
I can’t say much has happened since
If you are the dealer, let me out of the game
If you want a partner, take my hand
If it be your will
I’d crawl to you baby and I’d fall at your feet
You want it darker

I am ready

Vilified, crucified, in the human frame
I swear it happened just like this
If you are the healer, I’m broken and lame
If you want another kind of love
I shall abide until
I’d howl at your beauty like a dog in heat
I’m your man

I am ready

Magnified, sanctified, be thy holy name
A sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss
If thine is the glory, mine must be the shame
If you want to take me for a ride
Let your mercy spill
I’d claw at your heart, and I’d tear at your sheet
with nothing on my tongue but hallelujah

I am ready

You want it darker
I’m your man
With nothing on my tongue but hallelujah

I am ready

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At dVerse Bryan takes honored guest turn tending the pub and challenges us to to give our best “cover” a poem by a poet whom you admire.
In tribute to a great poet who passed away earlier this month, with the sole exception of the I am ready refrain, all lines are from the following songs of Leonard Cohen: You Want It Darker – I’m Your Man – Hallelujah – If It Be Your Will – Closing Time

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dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics– Covers with Bryan

Looking For You

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Looking for you to love
Laughing delightedly with empty leash in hand

Yawning widely

Your soft body in my lap
We all knew you chose me
Not the other way around
Tail wagging furiously
Already happy
On your first day

Yapping noisily

Gnawing my extended finger
That served just as well
As your favored chew toy
In your puppy days

Barking jubilantly

I quickly learned to measure
What was tail safe height
When you greeted me at the door
In your doggie teens

Growling menacingly

Strangers were quickly warned
Enter either with permission
Or at their own risk
In your adult days

Whimpering piteously

Though we could not see
Anything without
It was our first clue
Something was wrong within
In your senior days

Sighing contentedly

Looking up at me
Your soft head in my lap
Tail thumping the floor
I knew you were
Still happy
On your last day

Crying uncontrollably with empty leash in hand
Looking for you to love

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So Walt is tending bar at dVerse and we’re asked… what does love sound like? I was totally stumped not having truly thought of love from an aural perspective, other than love-making – and I did not want to go there. Honestly, I  was going to give Poetics a pass this week when a good friend of mine posted that his beloved Sherlock had crossed the Rainbow Bridge with the words:

“My best friend died today with his head in my lap.”

I immediately recalled a video he had posted a while back of a happy Sherlock making trilling noises and I thought he’ll never hear that again. That’s when I realized the sounds of love are not relegated solely to humans, and thus with a little poetic license – this poem for Drew and Sherlock.

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Tuesday Poetics: The Sound of LOVE

Another Forgotten Soul

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I hear the steady rhythm of a familiar beat
The beat that belongs to my heart
Each intake of breath induces own brand of sweet

I’ve been lectured its beat won’t last through the night
A motif I’ve heard several times before
This new morning again dispels that tale and again I’m alright

Well as right as right can be with these tubes in my chest
The clicks, chinks and whoosh, a daily orchestration of my machines
I half think to ask to take them out they’ve done their last test

I’ve buried children, a husband, and friends
The blessing and curse of having a long life
Outliving those who would be with me at my end

No longer with the ones of my long life’s sharing
To pillow my days with fond memories
I slowly die alone attended by some other’s caring

Who will last close these feathered eyes is out of my control
With no one left to rescue the memory of my name
I wonder how long before I’m another forgotten soul

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At dVerse we’re asked to pen our fears. This is mine – that I will outlive everyone who would love and advocate for me. That I will die, not necessarily by myself, but definitely alone.

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics: What Are You Afraid Of ?

Real Toads – The Tuesday Platform

Every Way The Wind Blows

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They marvel at your skill
How lifelike I appear
As though I could fly
Every way the wind blows

They know not your dark secret 

A twirl in Sol’s gold
Coiling in Luna’s silver
Diaphanous and solid
Every way the wind blows

How your majik sealed me within

Lighter than dandelion fluff
Joyful wings ever airborne
Yet never take flight
Every way the wind blows

A statue admired as so alive

The ethereal made corporeal
To this post ever bound
In eternal dervish motion
Every way the wind blows

I scream unheard in living death

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Today at dVerse Lillian invites  us to pick a piece of art and tell a story from the view of the artist or the art itself.  I recently saw this wonderful piece of kinetic art and have been completely enchanted by it.

I promise this started out on a much happier note, wondering about the unknown artist who could create such a delightful thing. But as I watched the video again, I thought what if this isn’t the magnificent work of a very talented artist, but of magic, dark magic that trapped a faerie playing with a dandelion.

Perhaps the statue looks so alive because she is….

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics : Chisel Me A Conversation

And It Has Come To This

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We once thought this was heaven, why are we going through such hell?

For now I find I’m opening myself like wound on skin
And on the cusp of everything at our beck and call
Feeling how deep the well that’s held within
I’m giving everything I’ve got , but is this your all?

And it has come to this, we’ve reach this bittersweet impasse
Too far gone to start over, not far enough to see a path clear
This could be all we’ve wanted, but now it’s so close to being trash
And from that I’m not sure we can recover, I fear
And it has come to this

One night we disturb the neighbors with the sounds of our passion
The next night it’s with the anguish of our fights
We nod like mimes faking life in our own fashion
Seems like we can never find a balance that’s just right

And it has come to this; can we keep our eyes on
The prize of happiness a magical love to bewitch?
We sit here hoping for a sign on this horizon
When the horizon looks as bleak as the execution’s switch
And it has come to this

Sometimes we look upon each other and we both know we can still feel it
But we’ve dealt each other mighty blows – is there enough left to heal it?

Knowing me all too well you exploit all that makes me weak
Knowing you even better, with a precision I play your game
Have we the courage to love the love of which the old folks speak?
The ring is in my hand, but I’m not sure if you still want my name

And it has come to this, you’re facing my white light
Am I here to let you in – or to get you out?
Am I warm, comforting? Or a sudden fright?
I could be your sinner or your savior; what is this about?
And it has come to this

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At dVerse  Mish wants the random song in us to come out.

dVerse ~ Poets Pub | Poetics – The Music in You

 

In The Back Woods

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I’m raised deep down in the country dues
I’m all chicken and gravy and liquor and blues
Don’t trust no man who know nothing ‘bout muddy shoes
It’s all good, in the back woods

We still a got general store back here the sticks
With saw dust on the floor ‘bout a half inch thick
‘Cause if it’s broke ’round here, it’s ‘round here we fix
For it’s all good, in the back woods

Some of us work the farm, some work at the factory
‘Till sundown comes or the ol’ mill whistle set us free

Seems like from the first cries announcing my arrival
It’s been one hand on my work and one on hand my bible
Dusk to dawn working on the land and my soul’s survival
But it’s all good, in the back woods

Oh, I work somethin’ hard and hard’s how I play
Takin’ a roll in the hay, spinning wheels in the clay
Lord knows I wouldn’t have it no other way
Naw, it’s all good, in the back woods

With its skyscrapers, and noise, and streets all gritty
I tried the living, but I ain’t cut out for no city

So it’s tailgate down, under the stars, when my day is through
Or swinging on the front porch with the fam for a spell or two
I’m gonna drink me some cold ones, yup that’s what I’ll do
Yeah, it’s all good, in the back woods

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At dVerse guest pub-tender Stacy Lynn Mar invites us to write our own folk poem.

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dVerse ~Poets Pub | Poetics : Folk Talk 

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National Poetry Month – Day 21

Pages Left To Turn

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Waiting for the day when I was too old to scold
Not knowing such a time would never come my way
My younger years once spent being reckless and bold
Those pages burned away in such furious blaze
In fantasia that thirty is considered old
Oh how the numbers changed as I added on days
Now I’m the one telling, instead of being told
Back then are not the words I’d thought so soon to say

Now I wonder if I will reach a point of sage
To look back upon the times of my days before
Some tales I have told in this pen and pixeled stage
Some tales are only known in memory to store
Should older me still have plenty of time to gauge
This life I’ll live from babe to days of hoar
I’ll fill these lines with joy before I turn the page
‘Till the pages left for me to turn are no more

My dossier holds Raivenne-lations nevermore

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Today I have something of a trifecta:

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1. At dVerse Lillian challenges us to create a poem that includes the word fantasia, phantasia, or fantasy. The word can be used in the title or the body of the poem itself.

dVerse Poets Pub | Poetics – Fantasia

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2. At Real Toads Kerry provides us the side inspiration of writing about living through the years.

Real Toads | Open Platform Tuesday

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3. National Poetry Writing Month – Day 12

It is still NaPoWriMo and today’s form is: The  Lucubration

The Lucubration is a form by Amanda J. Norton. It has two octave (eight line) stanzas, followed by a single line for 17 lines all together.

It has a rhyme scheme of abababab cdcdcdcd d.

The poem’s title must be a 5 syllable title. The two octave stanzas have 12 syllables per line. The final line must be 12 syllables in only 5 words and in italics.