Tag: poem

Life · poetry

Overwhelmed

Sally2 Comments

I have been stressed with too much to do
The grass grew tall in the lawn
Mow? Me? Ugh, I thought
My get up and go was gone
I went to the barn, John Deere tire was flat
My hope fell — [boing, boing, boing]
I drove to town to do a few things
Came home, and found a friend mowing

This is a true story. Who knew that someone mowing my lawn could be a beautiful moment?

I’m challenging myself to find a beautiful moment each day for a week. This happened on Friday. Did someone do something nice for you this week? Was it a beautiful moment?

This also follows the W3 Challenge criteria for the week — all one syllable words except the last one, 5- 8 lines.

poetry

Inspired by a Card

Sally6 Comments

Hop hop hop
[CHOP CHOP CHOP]
Paws pause

Hark!
Ears prick up!
[Sniff sniff sniff]

Hmmm…
What is this?
What do I hear?

Hop hop hop
[CHOP CHOP CHOP]
“TIM-BER”!

This is my submission to this week’s W3 Challenge. Poet of the Week, Ange, challenged us to capture a dramatic moment in just a handful of lines — a storm breaking, a glass shattering, a door slamming, a sudden realization, or any instant where something changes sharply or unexpectedly.

You may write in any poetic form, with the following restrictions:

Your poem must be between 5 and 8 lines long. (or maybe 12, if they’re really short!)

Every single word in the poem must be one syllable long.

You are allowed one multi-syllable word — but it must appear as the very last word of the poem.

I was literally staring off into space — or, more precisely, absently staring at the box of paper recycling beside me. This card was on top — a Santa carrying a Christmas tree. I love rabbits; I’ve been observing lots of wildlife in my yard this week– and the poem was born.

Life · poetry

Because I Lack Chutzpah

Sally1 Comment

Prompt: List ten things you would say to ten different people in your life, if you had the chutzpah.

  1. Please stop coming by the house.
  2. Please come by the house and help me sort through all this.
  3. Call your doctor.
  4. Do your job.
  5. Should you be eating that?
  6. Stop being such a bitch.
  7. Do you remember that time twenty years ago when I came to you for help and you shut the door on me?
  8. As a Christian, how do you feel about warehousing people? What would Jesus do?
  9. Could I tell you my side of the story?
  10. I love you.

This is a response to one of the prompts in this week’s Writer’s Workshop.

Ten things I would say. Ten people. No chutzpah.

Here’s a poem with the names of those 10 people hidden inside in no particular order.

A hadj
I’m dreaming of a hadje
Anywhere
Let me look
Arles looks nice
(Van Gogh and all that)
Or a farm
Where I could grab udder teats
And milk a cow by hand
Buy ripe fruit and vegetables
Harvested that day
Or visit the Cape
And hope terrapins emerge
From brackish waters
Travel to South America
See pika
(thy love for small animals satisfied)
Flee
Annotate
Breathe deeply
Visit an adobe house
Wear a robe
Kahuna visit
Honestly, though,
The best ever
Is home
Always home

poetry

Exploring Roots

Sally3 Comments

An ancester named Zidsel is in my tree
’twas a new name to me
Looking through the smoke of generations past
(No — no one asked)
I am curious about my roots
And look for attributes
Genetically passed down my tree
So that I understand me

Who am I? Why am I the way I am?
It’s an anagram
I try to rearrange letters to see
Nature? Nurture? What’s the key?

Zidsel married Peder to whom she bore
Four children, maybe more
My great-grandfather Andreas was her son
He left Denmark — US life begun

I think, though, I would learn the most
Walking Zidsel’s Jutland coast
Seeing where she was born and died
Visiting the church where she was a bride
Finding old homes in the town of Varde
Imagining Zidsel in the yard
Nearly two centuries have gone by
Still, I’d like to give it a try

One of this week’s Writer’s Prompts from the Writer’s Workshop was to write a post based on the word smoke.

This poem is what grew out of that.

Well, that, and some poking around on Ancestry.

poetry

Beach Souvenir

Sally8 Comments

My mica flakes sparkle
In contrast to my blackness
I think that’s why you noticed me
In the water
At the provincial park
In Nova Scotia

You picked me up
And caressed my smoothness
Water is so patient
At smoothing away edges

Well, water and jostling
Jostling against other rocks
The daily tides make us all a little smoother
All a little less edgy

But at my very core
I always sparkle

This is my attempt at a Dinggedicht: a poem that enters so deeply into a thing that the thing seems to speak for itself through image, texture, movement, and sensation alone. That’s the W3 Challenge this week.

poetry

Shucking Peas

Sally11 Comments

Pods
In hand
Peas removed
Bowl slowly fills
Mom’s garden harvest
In her lap as she works
Orange-red sunset outside
Head falls forward [snore] then snaps up
“I’m not sleeping — just resting my eyes!”
Pods in hand, peas removed, bowl slowly fills

The W3 challenge this week was to write a Dectina Refrain in honor of Mother’s Day and be sure to include the word “mother” (or a variation of it).

The Dectina Refrain is a 10-line, unrhymed, syllabic poem with a precise structure:

  • Line 1: 1 syllable
  • Line 2: 2 syllables
  • Line 3: 3 syllables
  • Line 4: 4 syllables
  • Line 5: 5 syllables
  • Line 6: 6 syllables
  • Line 7: 7 syllables
  • Line 8: 8 syllables
  • Line 9: 9 syllables
  • Line 10 (Refrain): Combine the exact text of lines 1–4, in order, as a single closing line
Life · poetry

Rhyming Recipe for Ikigai

Sally13 Comments

Think of what you love to do
Jot those things down, one or two

Think of skills where you excel
Not half-bad, but really well

Think of things for which you’re paid
Perhaps in money or in trade

Now think of what the world needs most —
Is something there of which you boast?

Where those things meet is ikigai*
Find that thing; your soul will fly

*ee-kee-guy

This is my response to this week’s W3 prompt, which is to:

Write a poem in rhyming couplets (two lines that rhyme) that gives instructions for making something.

Requirements:

  • Use rhyming couplets throughout
  • Give clear steps or instructions
  • Be creative with what the“recipe” is for

Think of it as turning instructions into something memorable and playful through rhyme.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Ikigai this week. I have a version of that graphic posted in my office.

Too often, I feel that we, as a society, shove people into a job that meets only one or two of those criteria. Find something that meets all four and you’ll find fulfillment and happiness.

poetry

i sing of Alex

Sally10 Comments

i sing of Alex slender and brave
interjected self to save
a woman pushed
pepper-sprayed
oh, if Alex had only stayed
home (and watched the news)
but instead
armed with phone
(and holstered legal gun)
he reached out to help
(as any nurse would
caring
for the
SUFFE-
Ring)
BAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAM
agents counted bullet holes
as Alex lay dying
(minneapolis crying)

This week’s W3 challenge is to write a poem that is inspired by another poet.

My favorite poet has long been e. e. cummings. His poem, i sing of Olaf glad and big, is a powerful story that leaves me with a knot in my stomach every time I read it.

Do I love that poem? I love its power. I love its grittiness. I love that poetry can produce a knot in my stomach, and still make me want to read it again.

poetry

Words and Seeds

Sally8 Comments

Words are seeds; seeds are words
They are scattered by the breeze
Who knows where they will go, take root
On land or stormy seas

Words, you know, are regional
They similar to seeds
When they emerge from babe or soil
You glimpse the paths life leads

Our world is global in many ways
People, plants, ideas, thoughts
English full of foreign words?
American English is British ersatz!

Even with our deep deep roots
We are fragile. We are frail.
We are NOT in cahoots
Hoping to see others fail.

Let me welcome and embrace
Those who do not sound like me
Or look like me or think like me
We’re still similar at our base

This weeks W3 Challenge was to explore the theme: Beneath the Surface.

Write in any form, but keep your poem to 20 lines or fewer.

I started with one idea for a poem — but then it took me in another direction entirely. Like a seed blown with the wind.

William Shakespeare, in Merchant of Venice, wrote these words spoken by Shylock:

If you prick us, do we not bleed?
if you tickle us, do we not laugh?
if you poison us, do we not die?
and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?

I agree up to the last line. I do not want revenge.

There’s a scene in Searching for Bobby Fischer where the chess teacher is telling the boy, Josh, that he has to hate his opponent and Josh says, “But I don’t hate them.” The instructor says, “Well, you’d better start.”

No, no — he had not better start.

We need to look for commonalities, not ways to win.

poetry

Cuppa

Sally10 Comments

Cuppa
Hands curve around mug
Smell of java, swirl of cream [sigh]
Pink sunrise
One warm sip, this new day begins
The breakfast of champions:
Coffee

This is my response to this week’s W3 challenge:

Write a Cameo poem—a tiny, distilled moment—on any theme you choose.

Form:

  • 7 lines;
  • Syllable count: 2 / 5 / 8 / 3 / 8 / 7 / 2;
  • Imagery is essential;
  • Minimalism is encouraged