Life · poetry

The Fawn

I looked out and saw a fawn
On the lawn fleeing the road
Toothpick legs receiving weight
Then airborne! Smol greatness flowed


This is a Welsh poetic form: Awdl Gywydd. I liked it because it called for internal rhymes — but, good golly, it was hard! I have to say that I’m not happy with the poem, but I tried.

For the We’ave (W3) challenge, we were to “Write about the first wild creature that you see which inspires you on the day you write your poem.” #30DaysWild

Yesterday, I set out to watch for a wild creature. Almost daily, I see deer on my way to work — but, of course, this was not one of those days. It was rainy-ish, so everyone was staying in, I guess — even the squirrels!

After work, as usual, I fell asleep in the chair in the living room. The trials and tribulations of being old, you know. Suddenly, I was awakened by my daughter in the neighboring chair crying out, “Oh! Oh! Oh!”

I jumped up to see what she was looking at and barely caught a glimpse of a tiny fawn racing across the lawn. Where its mama was, I have no idea.

But I can still see those spindly little legs stretching forward, catching the body weight, and then stretching out again as the rear legs caught up. In the midst of each cycle, that little body was airborne.

Sidenote on the word “smol” — one of my kids uses this, and I thought it was just a misspelling. It turns out that it’s a word — it is internet slang for cutesy smallness, like puppies and kittens and, for my sake, fawns.

poetry

Hitchhiking

Okay — here’s the challenge I’m trying today. It’s called “What Do You See?” The question is, does this picture inspire you to write something. I wrote a poem.

Yo, buddy, can you give me a lift?
It seems the whole world’s gone adrift

Rusted cars kinda wrecked off the road
I’m worried this whole place will explode

So, buddy, shoot that ray thing o’er here
You know, just make me – *POOF* – disappear

I’m game for wherever you’re going
Half the fun is the really not knowing

poetry

Over the Town (a poem for two voices)

Come fly with me!

(a leery look)

Come fly with me!

(nose in book)

Come fly with me!

(a heavy sigh)

We’ll go up high
And see the town from the sky!


I’m dubious.

I’ll keep you safe,

I’m dubious.

My darling waif.

I’m dubious.

Come now! Make haste!

Your hope is quite displaced.
My feet on earth are firmly based.


We’re going up!

I’m not a bird!

We’re going up!

This is absurd!

We’re going up!

Cannot look down.

Oh! Look around!
You’ll see our lovely little town.


Oh me! Oh my!

Look at the trees!

Oh me! Oh my!

Feel that breeze!

Oh me! Oh my!

It’s charming, yes?
And you would never guess!

I was blinded by my stress.



This is in response to this week’s W3 prompt — a choice of two Marc Chagall paintings for inspiration. Initially I was going to use the other painting — The Big Wheel — and try to write something about my trip to Paris in 2017, but I kept going back to the other painting, Over the Town, which I ultimately used.

I’ve never written a poem in two voices before. I wanted to tell a story. This is what came out.

poetry · swimming

How I Relax

Dive into coolness
Catch, pull, release, recover
Stroke, flutter kick, stroke
Exhale into the water
Turn my head to catch a breath


The W3 prompt for this week is:

The more I read about haikus and tankas, the more I realize that something is lost in translation. A tanka is more than 5-7-5-7-7 syllable counts. It’s actually not syllable counts, it’s kana.

What’s a kana, you ask? I’m not 100% sure because it’s something in Japanese. And Japanese “uses a combination of logographic kanji, which are adopted Chinese characters, and syllabic kana.” (according to Wikipedia) English is phonetic. These two language systems aren’t the same. How can we adapt something like poetry from system to the other. I don’t know.

But I know how I relax. A pool is my happy place and swimming laps helps me unwind.

So here’s my tanka-ish whatever.

poetry

Unicorn

Underneath the sparkles and glitter —
No — lose that shiny excess litter —
I see strength — such strength that must be chained
Chained, crown around its neck, constrained,
Or is it? No, no — not a quitter–
Rugged, royal, powerful, proud,
Not subdued. No knee is bowed.


Unicorn was one of the prompt words for Tanka Tuesday. The challenge was to write an acrostic poem.

Honestly, I looked at the list of words and none of them struck me. I’m not a sparkly, glittery sort of person — especially in this chapter of my life. But, man oh man oh man, do I love that Scotland has the unicorn as its national animal. Fiercely independent and untamable, he is the heart of Scotland.

collage · poetry

Meditation

My mind’s a scattered mess
Errant thoughts I cannot catch
Direct result of stress
I deeply breathe — attach
This diffuse excess
As if herding butterflies
To scented blooms of peace
I deeply breathe — and sighs
Open me — I cease
Needing order. Chaos dies.


This was much harder than I thought!

The challenge was to write an acrostic poem using one of five words: Discipline, Meditation, Enthusiasm, Tumult, or Trouble.

My poetry muscles are weak.

I just started working out with weights again at the gym. Some of my flesh-and-blood muscles are SO SORE. Thank goodness my brain doesn’t hurt the same way 🙂


I realize this collage is not terribly meditative, but I was looking through my photos for one of a butterfly and found this collage that I made years ago. It made me laugh.

flowers · poetry

Daffodil

Daffodil
Smiling flower
At my workplace
Joy in the clutter
Laughter

Daffodil
Overfriendly salesman
Hogging the conversation
“Hey, there! Notice me!”
Pretension


A double-elfchen written to participate in a poetry prompt from The Skeptic’s Kaddish W3 #54

An “Elfchen” has a set form of 11 words, the lines having 1-2-3-4-1 words, respectively. The first word is the topic and the final word is often a commentary or summary. The two elfchen are supposed to present opposing views.

Seriously, though — is there an opposite to Daffodil?

poetry

Emily Dickinson NaNoWriPo prompt

To make collages it takes pictures and glue —
Some pictures, some glue
And something true.
Truth alone will do
If pictures are few


I read a post yesterday called Fame is Morning and used this NaNoWriPo prompt:

  • Find an Emily Dickinson poem – preferably one you’ve never previously read – and take out all the dashes and line breaks. Make it just one big block of prose. Now, rebreak the lines. Add words where you want. Take out some words. Make your own poem out of it!

When I saw Emily Dickinson’s Revery Garden on the wall at the Fenimore Art Museum, I want to give it a try. I added my own restriction of 23 words for the poem.