poetry

Musings on a Spiral

June 8, 2024 Sally11 Comments

who
can
resist
a spiral
laid in the pavement!
To walk heel-toe heel-toe around
the pattern carefully laid in brick in the courtyard

in
my
mind, it
was spiral —
faulty memory
that I have — when I looked it up
It was a mere labyrinth (as if that could be mere)

which
one
would prove
the harder
to build? A spiral?
Or a labyrinth? I would guess
The harder one to spell is the easier to build

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

FORM: Compose a ‘Fib’ poem(created by Gregory K. Pincus), which is a six-line poem of 1,1,2,3,5,8 syllables).
- VARIATIONS:
  1. Write as few or as many lines as you wish, as long as your syllable count is based upon the Fibonacci Sequence (1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, etc.).
  2. You may write more than one stanza, repeating the amount of lines of your first stanza.
THEME: Write about a spiral; spiral shapes in nature or art, or perhaps a more figurative or metaphorical spiral.

I was thinking about when I had been in Bayeux, France in 2017. One day, I had gone for a walk with my brother and sister. We found this labryinth:

It’s where my mind went when I read the prompt — but it’s clearly NOT a Fibonacci spiral.

poetry

Unrequited Love

May 30, 2024 Sally26 Comments

She walks into the room
She does a little scan
And chooses me, not the man
I see the darkest gloom
That no light can illume
Settle. And so it began
This had not been his plan
Oh, the doom! the doom!

He directs his kisses
Toward her, calling, beckoning
Come sit with me! Let’s chat!
Every advance, though, misses —
It’s a rude, rude reckoning
But who can understand a cat?

This is my response to the W3 prompt this week:

Compose a modified Italian sonnet with the following specifications:
Theme: unrequited love
Length: 14 lines
Stanzas: two stanzas (an octet and a sestet)
Meter:not required (this is why it’s a ‘modified’ Italian sonnet)
Rhyme: ABBAABBA CDECDE

This is based on a true story. What can I say? The cat liked me.

Sermon Recap 05.26.24

May 27, 2024 Sally10 Comments

I look for what I should be doing
Since I am captain of my soul
What is it I should be pursuing?
What should I do to be made whole?

Surely, I can make some changes
In my approach to living life
Surely I can rearrange this
Remove all this unneeded strife

And yet, and yet, and yet again
I know I am not in control
I bow my head, contrite amen –
So be it, God — I yield the goal

To “not my will, but Yours be done –“
It’s not my race, but Yours I run

A few weeks ago I had decided to try to process the Sunday sermon by taking notes and writing something later.

Last week was my first week doing it. It accomplished these things:

First, I went to church. I’ve been skipping so much lately.

I told Fr. N. that I was mad at God.

“Is that okay?” I asked.

“Absolutely,” he replied. “Go ahead and swear at God. Tell Him this is shitty.”

It’s just that I spent so much time and effort praying about a situation that did not resolve the way I wanted to do. What’s up with that, God?

Second, I semi-paid attention. Okay — I was distracted that morning. I pulled myself away from the distraction long enough to write a single line which I read back to Fr. N. later in the week.

“You paid attention!” he said. That may have been an overstatement. Here’s the line:

The places where we have fallen flat on our faces — those are the places where God comes.

Third, I wrote a post to process it. It turned out to be pretty personal so I didn’t publish it. I realized that writing something and NOT publishing is okay, too. It felt good to write and process, though.

This week, I went to church in part because the lectionary readings (and therefore the sermon fodder) were some of my favorites passages: Isaiah 6 and John 3.

Fr. N. went with John 3. I settled in, waiting for him to talk about the wind. You know, how it “blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes.” (John 3:8)

It’s verses like that that encourage me to embrace the mystery. Too long I attended churches that knew all the answers.

Fr N, however, didn’t get the wind memo. He went in a different direction: baptism.

He talked about how Nicodemus wanted something that he, Nicodemus, could do, and instead Jesus told him something that was impossible.

Rereading my notes from yesterday’s sermon led to today’s sonnet.

It’s not entirely what Fr. N said, but it’s what I needed to hear.

poetry

Editing

May 23, 2024 Sally16 Comments

Remeber
[back-back-back] mber
When we used white out
[back-back-back-back] -out
Or the coree
[back-back] rective tape on the typewti
[back-back] riter to fix all the typose
[back] ?

Yeah, well
I’ll bet kids these t
[back] days have no idea of what we went through
Just o
[back] to repair silly mistakes —
Those fat-fingered ones we all make

Now control-Z is my best friend
As well as that back space key

I have yet to figure out how kids type with their thumbs, though.
[back-back-back-back-back-back-back-back-back-back-back-back-back-back-back-back-back-back-back-back-back-back-back-back-back-back-back-back] on their phoe
[back] nes with their thumbs, though –
And with higher accuracy ta
[back] than I have even though I took a keyboarding class.

Crazy, yes?

This is my response to the W³ prompt this week. Poet-of-the-week Suzanne Brace asked us to: “Compose a poem that conveys ‘Movement’, using repetition to move your ideas and imagery forward.”

However, I didn’t move forward. Pretty sure I was doing a lot of moving backward.

poetry

Signs of Hope

May 17, 2024May 17, 2024 Sally15 Comments

Dandelions: dreams, prayers
Each seed holding hardy hope
Wind blows it beyond our dares
To where we thrive, more than cope

The poem started off as another unpronounceable Irish form — but the form had way too many rules, so I made up my own rules: a quatrain, every line 7 syllables, abab rhyme scheme. I suppose I should make up a name for it?

“Every seed is a bit of Optimism” — this sign was one I painted to go on our barn. When I took it out to the barn, though, it was hard to read from the road, so I painted over it and painted this one instead:

I’ve watched people turn around and come back to photograph the sign on the barn. Some even hop out of their cars and pose in front of it.

We all need reminders of hope, right?

Thank you to Sadje who came up with the prompt of “HOPE” for W3 this week.

Faith · poetry

Adrift

May 2, 2024 Sally13 Comments

Adrift
In a coracle
No oar
Unmoored
Belonging only
To the One
Who authors
Currents
And winds

This is my response to the W³ prompt this week which is to write a free verse poem of not more than 12 lines with a theme of belonging.

I’ve been feeling a bit at loose ends lately, like I’ve lost my footing. Even my faith, which has been my bedrock, has felt shaky. Belonging to a church feels like a crock. Speaking Christianese, which once felt so natural, now feels false.

I am, indeed, unmoored — and yet I belong.

A to Z Blogging Challenge · Bible Study · poetry

Nazareth

April 25, 2024 Sally6 Comments

Can anything good come out of Nazareth? — John 1:46

It’s a speck
On the map
Nazareth
Let’s recap:

It was home
To a mere
300
(so I hear)

Nothing big
Nothing key
Just a spot
Zilch to see

Yet from there
Came the Christ
Who for us:
Sacrificed

This year for the A-to-Z challenge, I’m challenging myself to write a Cethramtu Rannaigechta Moire ~~every day~~. I can’t pronounce it, but I can tell you that it’s an Irish poetic form that requires 3 syllable lines in quatrains. The second and fourth lines rhyme.

Additionally, I’ve been collecting questions for a few years — specifically questions from the Bible. I have so many questions.

Turns out the Bible is full of questions.

So, I’m using questions from the Gospel of John for this challenge.

poetry

Folly

April 24, 2024 Sally8 Comments

A ladder
Propped up (could he be madder?!)
‘gainst barn on sawhorses, planks
Tanks.

No surprise
It failed — who would/could advise
Such a scheme? Only a fool
(You’ll

Soon agree)
Maybe you’re thinking “newbie” —
Nope! That’s not it either. See —
He

Was skillful
But also way too willful
To listen to any sense
(Dense)

Just foolish
And, like a donkey, mulish
Stubborn. He thought it would work.
(smirk)

To foresee
(he could not) those sheep, carefree,
Stampeding through his death trap
(Crap!)

He survived!
This story is not contrived;
It’s true. I heard it last eve —
Steve

This is an Irish form called Deibide Baise Fri Toin. It’s made up of quatrains with an aabb rhyme scheme. Syllable count 3-7-7-1. Lines one and two rhyme on a two-syllable word; lines three and four rhyme on a monosyllabic word.

This is in response to the W³ prompt: folly