Wednesday, November 25, 2015

November 25, 2015 Writers Digest November PAD Challange/ Waiting to See II -- Poets United Midweek Motif/Survival

Waiting to See II
waiting to see     father always said      it was me     
still hard to say     it happened     right in front of you
thinking back     in a foreign land     probably not
who can say     poor little match girl     we could walk away

waiting to see     will you see      what I see
think it might be you     hard to admit
hard to know      when it started     faraway
the pieces didn't fit     the story line
as she grew     with matches to sell

waiting to see     will you be able to say
even though you know     the scene played out
it has been as it is     i had nothing to do with it
did you know     she a precious child
perhaps something missing     it is worst
she stands on the corner alone     she belongs to us

November 25, 2015

I have rearranged the poem 'Waiting...,' November 22, 2015 and repeated the lines, 'waiting to see.'  The prompt was to write an echo poem...or something about an echo.

Poets United  Midweek Motif  prompt:  Write a survival poem.

survival is the key word                you felt threatened               insecure

what else could one do                  strike out diminish            the opponent

so like                               a wild and frightened animal      still a little girl

what happened                               survival is your need

perhaps you are about to die         to be killed                            erased

it is hard to tell from the outside   what is going on                 on the inside

scream at the top of your lungs      beg for mercy               is there another way

can survival be accomplished         without killings others      find a place

safe and sound                                 pray for strength          survive if you will

November 25, 2015

Tuesday, November 24, 2015

November 24, 2015 Writers Digest November PAD Challenge/November's Love Poem

November's Love Poem

You asked for a love poem...       the sun in the sky      the freshness of rain

the scent of sage after the rain      sunsets on the horizon      the moon aloft

stars twinkling in the sky       the soft muzzle of a horse      and his warm whispers

the companionship of my dog      walks in the forest       coffee in the morning

a good night's sleep      a letter from home      the rhythm of drums

falling snow      a fire in the hearth      your hand to hold

the song you sing when happy      my mothers voice remembered      your final days

and all the days of your life      your gentle heart       the years you gave me

my kitten soft and sweet      antics at play      memories shared

old photographs      picture books       laughter remembered

the smell of paint       the quiet of the studio      work accomplished
and a thousand other things i love       my life is rich      because of you

November 24, 2015

Note:  The prompt for the day was to write a love poem, and I've written of some of the things that make my life rich.

Monday, November 23, 2015

November 23, 2015 Writers Digest November PAD Chalenge/ prompt was to write an apology poem

An Apology Poem
oh yes     i am so sorry it happened      at first 
i thought      it was a misunderstanding      but upon reflection
i realized     there was no misunderstanding      the response to my words
were as they should be      you did understand     what i was saying
i began to speak     and it was those words      you took issue with
didn’t let me finish    your inability to control    words spoken in anger
hard to forget      what should i apologize for      for breathing
for being     your desire to protect      was certainly understandable
but i had no desire to hurt      from the beginning      i decided not to take part
to see where it might go      the ugly words were yours      i made no response
it seemed to make you more angry      perhaps on that day      i should have begun
by telling you how much i love you     and how much i appreciate you
perhaps that is how we should always begin each sentence      but how could i have known
it was not an ordinary day      there was a terrorist waiting      a land mine ahead
you said you thought it began earlier      but earlier      i patiently answered every question
but grew tired of the questions      and objected      the questions made no sense
seemed intrusive      someone stomped away petulantly      saying 
i was only trying to have a conversation      the sun sparkled on the water
there was a light breeze      later the day grew stormy      there was no turning back
your words      and actions were hurtful      i am sorry
November 23, 2015

Sunday, November 22, 2015

November 22, 2015 Poets United Poetry Pantry -- The Sunday Whirl/The Search for the Unexpected --Sunday's WhirLigig/A Snowy Afternoon -- Writers Digest November PAD Challenge/ Waiting...


The Search for the Unexpected

it was late in the evening            the light fell softy                         over her shoulder

as she began her tale                   telling us of finding                      the bits of leather

now unrecognizable                    hard to tell                                    what they had been

little dark abstract shapes            you could hold in your hand         you wondered about

she said long ago                         the butchers threw scraps              into the thames

when the tide receded                  all the hidden things revealed        secrets exposed

nothing holy there                        only things altered by time            drifting under the

things thrown away                     waiting to be found                        things from the deep

each day                                      when the tide goes out                   the search goes on
fall is best                                    the weather cool                          sometimes mist

as she told her story                     we lost track of time                   we were hardly aware

just as she said she did                  when searching on the beach       imagination filled in 

                                                                                                                    the blanks       

she told of one day finding            a complete clay pipe once            as she told her story

goosebumps rose on our flesh       just to think of the everyday treasures             

and how she lost herself                on the beach           as she searched for the unexpected


A Snowy Afternoon

what rhythms are hidden in the snow              so white                            so cold

the whirligig                         in the shape of a blackbird                       spins in the wind

black against white               late afternoon                                           no longer snowing

the light flat over the snow   shadows whistling                  the low afternoon light pierced

by the brilliant setting sun    the landscape frozen                        only the wind is moving

sometimes it picks up a hand full of snow                               and throws it as far as it can

it sparkles in the light           the trees stand in silhouette                           limbs bare

the scene is a pantomime      of other days                                                 all is quiet




waiting to see                       if you will see what i see                 will you be able to say it

my father always said it was me        but i think it might be you    even though you know

still hard to say                     hard to admit                                   the scene played out

right in front of you             you want me to carry the blame        when it has been as it is

for all times                          hard to know when it started         i had nothing to do with it

it seemed to happen in a foreign land          faraway                     did you know

probably not                         didn't fit the storyline                       she a precious child

smart as a whip                    the pieces didn't fit                           perhaps something missing

who can say                         as she grew                                       it has gotten worst

poor little match girl            with matches to sell                          she stands on the corner

we could walk away            and forget                                          but she belongs to us

November 22, 2015 

Saturday, November 21, 2015

November 21, 2015 Writers Digest November PAD Challenge/ A Strange Poem Indeed

A Strange Poem

your words audible             i am your father                i am your father

almost a whisper                 a guttural tone                  is it a promise or threat

what do the words mean     where did they come from   who is speaking

my father is dead                 died many years ago        does it speak from the dead

the voice didn't stutter          the words were sure         yet i know not the meaning

this has never happened before    i am your father        i am your father

shouldn't the dead stay dead                not intrude on a sunny november morning

actually tomorrow is the day before his birthday      does he want me to remember

afraid i will forget                i tell the voice                i will never forget

i keep him with me always     a strange thing to happen on the day before his birthday

i say to the voice with love   happy birthday             you are my father

i am your daughter                and so it will always be

November 21, 2015

Friday, November 20, 2015

November 20, 2015 Writers Digest November PAD Challenge/No Time for Looking Back

relent, horrendous, artifact, lagoon, wobble, and plunder

No Time for Looking Back

i pick it up                            an artifact                             left behind

dropped                              forgotten                               turn it over in my hand

it wobbles                           catches the light                    i am reminded

of the horrendous events   almost forgotten                    the past slides under rocks

hides there                         we have no time                   for looking back

hard to just keep up           hard to stay balanced           our days minutes hours

filled with necessities         things to be done                  interruptions of more serious ideas

thoughts                             reflections                             memories

the present is relentless     in its' demand                       for our attention

the loon cries                      in the lagoon                        a lonely sound

a reminder of another world                           past           present

future                                  what is treasured                  is often plundered

November 20, 2015

Wednesday, November 18, 2015

November 18, 2015 Writers Digest November PAD Challenge/ Questions of the Heart -- Poets United Midweek Motif

Questions of the Heart

lately i have had many questions       the big question mark          hangs above 

                                                                                                                my head

why would a person do something            when their behavior seems so foreign

i have questioned my own actions     when the heat began to rise  i stepped away

the answers form slowly                             like opening cream colored envelopes

tied with blue ribbons                    the years unfold                     memories appear

as if it all happened today         my love has grown           you say we have grown 


how could this be                     hearts entwined               how is this ever separated

what was mine                         taken away                               your eyes glittered

as you spoke unkind words      perhaps you feel              you were torn

but still                 you marched onto the battle field         took no prisoners

i thought you knew me            the years say                      it is so

your words say                         something different          you show no mercy

all is quiet on the western front                                   my heart lies broken and bruised

the day you walked away         is burned there forever      sometimes

there are no answers                 to the questions                 of the heart

November 18, 2015