Thursday, April 12, 2018

ARS POETICA/dVerse --LIFE ON AN ISLAND REMEMBERED/Imaginary gardens with real toads -- PRIVACY FOR SALE/https://claudetteellinger.wordpress.com

dVerse

ARS POETICA
What is a poem to me
I reach down deep
To dark places
Where no one lives anymore
Abandoned houses
Empty, cold and worn
A place where I can see
Exactly what I want you to see

Follow me
I’ll show you how
Drop to your knees
Bend low
Look in between
Into shadowed corners
Wait for your eyes to focus
Listen to silent words
A conversation is going on
It just happened
Or it happened long ago

Tiptoe over
Open the trunk 
Lift the lid
Look carefully
It is all gathered there
Or step outside on windy morn
Listen 
You will find your poem carried there

I have decided
Each poem is different
Like the one who wrote it
If we each look in the mirror
No two alike

April 12, 2018


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Imaginary gardens with real toads

LIFE ON AN ISLAND REMEMBERED
Yes, one day I lived on an island
The water lapped at the shore
The curlews awoke me each morning
Searching for breakfast
A noisy bunch
Like the streets of New York

The seagulls, too
Screaming and diving
Always alert for a tasty tidbit
They work hard for a living

At the beach
Crabs scurry across the sand
Clean the beach before the surfers arrive

In the cannel
The porpoise swim
Chasing their breakfast 

The bay flat 
Reflecting a kaleidoscopic sky
The colors of sea-lace
Wrap the tropical scene
Like a birthday present

Palm trees rustled in the breeze
Along the pier
The fishermen hawked their catch
That had slept in the bay last night



April 12, 2018


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 https://claudetteellinger.wordpress.com

PRIVACY FOR SALE
Because my birth came when it did
I am known to have secrets
But I would call it privacy
What belongs to me
What belongs to you
And what is the difference
There is nothing 
I really need to know about you
Other than what you want me to
And I will share with you
What you need to know about me
Don’t look under my dress
Don’t search my drawers
Don’t go through my trash
Don’t ask personal questions
Don’t raid my computer…
Without a warrant
There is a line drawn around me
And what is mine
Don’t cross that line
Don’t stick your nose 
Where it doesn’t belong
Allow me a small bit of privacy
In this world where facebook
Knows everything
And it is for sale

April 12, 2018



13 comments:

Anonymous said...

Privacy has become a high cost commodity, but even then it can be raided. There are always those things that others have no need of knowing.

Elizabeth

Jae Rose said...

I love the island you have created...you really transported us there

Ellecee said...

I love the "life on the island" that you've described. Would love to be there myself, :-)

Privacy is hard come by in our world today, caution must be taken,, so easy to lose what is special to what is not.

Marianne said...

How lovely to be free from interference and disturbance by other people. I cherish & appreciate my privacy. We all have secrets; there's no need for them to become fodder for anyone else. A thought-provoking piece. Well done!

gillena cox said...

Luv your island scenic. Besutifully worded. And as for privacy i totslly agree with you

Much­čî╝love

Sanaa Rizvi said...

Love how you depict life on the island in this beautiful poem. I agree, privacy nowadays is nearly impossible to come by.

Sherry Marr said...

I love the first poem with its lovely descriptions so much. In the second, it seems there is not much privacy left. Smiles. Well said, Annell.

Kim Russell said...

I love the poem about the island, Annell! I especially enjoyed:
'The water lapped at the shore
The curlews awoke me each morning
Searching for breakfast'
and
'The bay flat
Reflecting a kaleidoscopic sky
The colors of sea-lace
Wrap the tropical scene
Like a birthday present'.

Anonymous said...

What a stunning set of poems. The first sets up the other two so well. Each with it's own unique voice.

qbit said...

Wonderful!

Vivian Zems said...

Well done! I agree that every poem is different. Vivid imagery on this island.... and a sad loss of privacy.

Grace said...

That's the beauty of writing - each poem is different, as we share different aspects of ourselves ~

Kate Mia said...

So.. True.. Life
Without A
PoeM NoW
iS HoMeS iN
A Neighborhood
Large As
A World
wHere
no
one leaves
A MoTeL 6 LiGHT oN
Or HoTeL CaLiFoRNiA
WiTH No iMaGiNaTioN..:)