Last night the moon rose, full and bright in the Eastern sky
I turned to gaze upon her, to offer my thanks for her blessings
for without her grace, without her light and influence, I would be lost.
Today’s challenge at d’Verse Poets ask us to consider the Korean form ‘sijo’ as we write. Sijo is similar in some ways to a haiku, but uses more syllables, which allows us to explore ideas more fully.
raucous and brazen woman of sharp wit
and sharper tongue
goddess of the unconventional
mistress of mayhem
even distance cannot dull
(covered as you are with glitter!)
though it does make me wish
you had never left
who else will share my scorn?
who but you
would revel in the unusual with me?
I wish the distance
were not so great between us
that we could share coffee while you fondle
(what were you thinking?)
one day I will knock
upon your T.A.R.D.I.S. door
bearing a gift of gnomes
and hear you scream “hooker!”
and I will smile
because from you
(and you alone)
it is true compliment
Written for d’Verse’s Poetics this weekend, which asked us to write about someone or something we miss. Rather than go to overly sentimental route, I chose to write about a dear friend who moved away this year. This piece totally fits her personality, and our friendship.
Photo is my own, taken at the Riverwalk in Rock Hill, November 2012
these mornings as I trek through the forest
as Nature’s creatures make preparations
for the coming cold.
I always take a moment to watch
to smile and wonder
what their busy work means.
old wives’ tales
herald a harsh winter when birds
spend months gathering nuts and berries
preparing a root-cellar of supplies
so I too begin to feather my nest
airing thick blankets
and sweaters and heavy socks
knitting warm hats and mittens and scarves
that I wear to keep warm
as I make the trek out to the forest
and watch the creatures of Nature prepare
for a long, cold winter.
Written to answer the challenge at d’Verse, which asks us to look at the ways in which we prepare for things to come; in this case, preparing for a cold, snowy Winter.
Image is my own, taken at the Riverwalk in Rock Hill, November 4 2012
How sad to be the path less traveled
To wait and watch as wanderers pause
Standing at the divergence
Only to continue on as others have.
How terrible to be a voiceless tree
Standing rooted in a wood
Or swaying, tossed by a faceless breeze
unable to pass on my tale.
How lonely to seek out only the night
To walk in darkness only
Forsaking the warmth of morning’s glory
And living a half-shadowed life.
I will not take the path often traveled
But seek the one that is mossy and rough;
I will seek the voice of the trees
though I must learn to be silent to hear it;
I will not walk only in the darkness
But will make time to bask in the sun.
This week at d’Verse’s Meeting the Bar, we are tasked to use literary allusion in our poem. Robert Frost has long been a favorite of mine, in part because I grew up on land that was once owned by him. I love how his poetry is tied to Nature, and this piece is an homage to the lessons he gives us in some of his works, namely “The Road Less Traveled”, “The Sound of Trees”, and “Acquainted With the Night”.
once I told someone
that poetry is all about play
about taking words and pressing them together
in ways that are often
that writing a poem is no different to me
than being psychoanalyzed
makes raw reality
compels me to search my soul
to find things buried
it requires I sacrifice little parts of me
carved off and hidden within each poem
the words I share with the world
lay me open
before those who wish to unearth
poetry also requires that I take those words
and turn them around
create new realities
envision worlds within worlds
so that the pieces of me I sew into them
are a part of those places
d’Verse’s Ars Poetica this week has us writing poetry about poetry. I’ve already written about poets, but here’s one about the writing itself.
I live in imperfect exile
somewhere within my own heart.
Existing in pieces
which have never been whole.
I wanted this to be longer, but there was nothing more to be said. This is my offering to this weekend’s d’Verse Poetics. Go read what others had to say on the subject!
Reposted again at d’Verse for their Anniversary Celebration. Happy anniversary, d’Verse!
open your eyes
slow, deliberate breaths
air too thick and heavy
your limbs alien appendages
unwieldy as you awaken
seventeen years of slumber
to awaken in an alien world
cobalt and verdigris
russet and crimson
colors so vibrant assault your vision
decay smells sweet
a reminder of your abandoned home
life assaults the senses
as these blossoming fields
sway with your new world’s breath
Written in response to this week’s Meeting the Bar challenge over at d’Verse Poets, which was to write a poem that evokes another world, or takes an alien’s look at our own.
I am the wild things
I am the wild rumpus
The cacophonous revelry
The danger and the dance
You who sit
Safe in your glass castle
You dare to toss pebbles
But it is I who will
I am the wild things
I -am- the wild rumpus
The fearsome tirade
The terror and the trance
I won’t find you
Stalk you and slay you
There is no wall which
Can protect you now
I am the danger and the dance
I am the terror and the trance
I am the fearsome tirade and the cacophonous revelry
I am the wild things, and I am the wild rumpus
I wrote this for d’Verse’s Poetics: Sendak & the Wild Things. Go check out what other amazing writers have written with the same inspiration!