http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides
Today is the last day of the challenge and the challenge is to write a lesson poem.
Looking for Soul
I am looking for the soul,
What it looks like?
Where can it be found?
Is it something that can be felt?
Is it simply the essence of all things?
I am looking for the soul,
Can we roll the soul into a ball?
Is it the pony beside the road,
Is it the highway woman,
Is it all the words gone wrong?
Is it every chance taken?
Is it all that failed, or succeeded?
I am looking for the soul,
Is the soul something else?
What do we mean when we say --
Soul searching?
The words were soulful?
The soul of a nation?
Soul music?
I am looking for the soul,
I stand on this earth,
Rooted in my soul,
I seek it everyday,
And yet I can not answer,
The questions I pose to myself.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Monday, November 29, 2010
Monday November 29, 2010 Poetic Aside/Step Poem
http://blog.writersdigest.com
2010 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 29
Posted by Robert
For today's prompt, write a next steps poem. This might be a good opportunity to try writing a list poem. Or it might be a good time to write about your future plans. It might even be a good chance for you to write about spiral staircases. Who knows?
Holiday List
It is the time of the holidays,
As I attempt to be at peace
There are things I wish to avoid,
Department stores,
Sales,
Crowds,
Long lines,
Anxiety,
Overspending,
Christmas carols sung to ad-nauseam,
But instead I will wish you a
Merry Christmas,
And a Happy New Year!
2010 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 29
Posted by Robert
For today's prompt, write a next steps poem. This might be a good opportunity to try writing a list poem. Or it might be a good time to write about your future plans. It might even be a good chance for you to write about spiral staircases. Who knows?
Holiday List
It is the time of the holidays,
As I attempt to be at peace
There are things I wish to avoid,
Department stores,
Sales,
Crowds,
Long lines,
Anxiety,
Overspending,
Christmas carols sung to ad-nauseam,
But instead I will wish you a
Merry Christmas,
And a Happy New Year!
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Sunday November 28, 2010
Catch-up Poems for http://blog.writersdigest.com
November 23, 2010 The challenge was to write about form, or no form.
Poem Without a Form
Of form I know little,
It is the song I hear,
I hum along,
I listen,
With pen in hand,
I write.
Really not much to it.
Seek the essence of the moment,
Select the words carefully,
Read them back to myself.
Have I caught the melody?
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
November 24, 2010 The challenge was to write about space.
An Enchanted Space
The wind blows across the mesa,
The sagebrush shivers,
But the sun shins bright,
Dark clouds hang above Taos mountain
The mountains exist in shadows,
Shiny black ravens,
Practice ariels above
Dark shadows crawl across the sunny path.
Signs define spaces along the road,
32 degrees and freezing,
Double Arches three miles ahead
Yuletide Greeting spelled out in red.
Winter is the time to hunker down,
The bears dream of spring,
There is little snow this year,
Global warming it appears.
There are not many cars on the street,
The town is still sleeping,
Season's Greetings,
The wind blows the last leaves from the trees.
Scattered across the empty road.
Your mood colors the landscape,
Creates dark spaces,
Between each word.
Count the deaths along the way,
Marked with handmade crosses.
In the cold canyon,
Yesterday's snow remains in the dark spaces.
There are no people,You can see,
A picture drawn in loneliness.
The road winds through
The narrow space of the canyon.
Pine trees, too many to assign number,
As we climb the pass,
We now look down on the tops of tall trees.
It is an enchanted space.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------November 25, 2010 This challenge was to write an animal poem.
The grass on the plain has turned golden,
Ravens glide, against pale blue skies,
A brown and white pony
Stands the wind blows his tail.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------November 26, 2010 This challenge was about running.
Highway Woman
Tall and slim,
Long black hair,
Reaches down her back,
Tight jeans swing to the music,
A finger snapping rhythm.
Freestyle, no holding back.
In red shoes she runs for her life.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
November 27, 2010 The challenge was to use as a title, Blame the ______________(fill in the blank.)
Blame the Distance
To realize,
To see, with real eyes,
You think in a different way,
Have different thoughts all together.
It is no wonder,
We find it hard to communicate
Don't understand the words spoken,
There is no look of recognition.
Your face is blank,
In disbelief,
There is no way to cross the gulf.
I have forgotten how long it took,
To speak my piece,
With honest,
Without embellishment.
November 23, 2010 The challenge was to write about form, or no form.
Poem Without a Form
Of form I know little,
It is the song I hear,
I hum along,
I listen,
With pen in hand,
I write.
Really not much to it.
Seek the essence of the moment,
Select the words carefully,
Read them back to myself.
Have I caught the melody?
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
November 24, 2010 The challenge was to write about space.
An Enchanted Space
The wind blows across the mesa,
The sagebrush shivers,
But the sun shins bright,
Dark clouds hang above Taos mountain
The mountains exist in shadows,
Shiny black ravens,
Practice ariels above
Dark shadows crawl across the sunny path.
Signs define spaces along the road,
32 degrees and freezing,
Double Arches three miles ahead
Yuletide Greeting spelled out in red.
Winter is the time to hunker down,
The bears dream of spring,
There is little snow this year,
Global warming it appears.
There are not many cars on the street,
The town is still sleeping,
Season's Greetings,
The wind blows the last leaves from the trees.
Scattered across the empty road.
Your mood colors the landscape,
Creates dark spaces,
Between each word.
Count the deaths along the way,
Marked with handmade crosses.
In the cold canyon,
Yesterday's snow remains in the dark spaces.
There are no people,You can see,
A picture drawn in loneliness.
The road winds through
The narrow space of the canyon.
Pine trees, too many to assign number,
As we climb the pass,
We now look down on the tops of tall trees.
It is an enchanted space.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------November 25, 2010 This challenge was to write an animal poem.
The grass on the plain has turned golden,
Ravens glide, against pale blue skies,
A brown and white pony
Stands the wind blows his tail.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------November 26, 2010 This challenge was about running.
Highway Woman
Tall and slim,
Long black hair,
Reaches down her back,
Tight jeans swing to the music,
A finger snapping rhythm.
Freestyle, no holding back.
In red shoes she runs for her life.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
November 27, 2010 The challenge was to use as a title, Blame the ______________(fill in the blank.)
Blame the Distance
To realize,
To see, with real eyes,
You think in a different way,
Have different thoughts all together.
It is no wonder,
We find it hard to communicate
Don't understand the words spoken,
There is no look of recognition.
Your face is blank,
In disbelief,
There is no way to cross the gulf.
I have forgotten how long it took,
To speak my piece,
With honest,
Without embellishment.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Monday 22, 2010 Potluck Poetry/ Magic, Miracles, Wonder and Wizardry
http://jingle poetry.blogspot.com
Challenge is to write a powm about magic, miracles, wonder and wizardry.
On a Day in Early Fall
My life was filled with magic,
On the first day that we went out,
Followed the list,
Penned by hand.
You said, "It was all that was needed."
Was it magic we were seeking,
On a day in early fall?
First,OFFICE SUPPLY,
He balanced himself,
On my rear view mirror,
Shinny black, a tight wire walker,
Spread his wings for balance,
Spun around like a clown,
Drew our attention to his act.
You said, "It was all that was needed."
Was it magic we were seeking,
On a day in early fall?
Second, was to find a tiny repair shop,
But instead we walked into a wonderland,
Filled with miniatures,
Created by a wizard,
Each tiny spindle,
Transformed to prefection.
You said, "It was all that was needed."
Was it magic we were seeking,
On a day in early fall?
Next, BOOK STORE,
Found my way to the back,
Reached up as high as I could reach,
Found the book filled with magic.
You said, "It was all that was needed."
Was it magic we were seeking,
On a day in early fall?
Challenge is to write a powm about magic, miracles, wonder and wizardry.
On a Day in Early Fall
My life was filled with magic,
On the first day that we went out,
Followed the list,
Penned by hand.
You said, "It was all that was needed."
Was it magic we were seeking,
On a day in early fall?
First,OFFICE SUPPLY,
He balanced himself,
On my rear view mirror,
Shinny black, a tight wire walker,
Spread his wings for balance,
Spun around like a clown,
Drew our attention to his act.
You said, "It was all that was needed."
Was it magic we were seeking,
On a day in early fall?
Second, was to find a tiny repair shop,
But instead we walked into a wonderland,
Filled with miniatures,
Created by a wizard,
Each tiny spindle,
Transformed to prefection.
You said, "It was all that was needed."
Was it magic we were seeking,
On a day in early fall?
Next, BOOK STORE,
Found my way to the back,
Reached up as high as I could reach,
Found the book filled with magic.
You said, "It was all that was needed."
Was it magic we were seeking,
On a day in early fall?
Monday November 22, 2010 Take a Stand
http://blog.writersdigest.com
The prompt was to create a poem about a "stand", take a stand, or build a stand, etc.etc.
I hate to have to take a stand,
It's not that I'm maleable,
Or can easily be pushed around,
It's just that I hate comfrontation.
I find I'm usually on the
"Other" side of the fence,
On any issue.
I don't really care,
That people have
A different point of view.
I assume they have,
Come to it,
After much thought,
Just like myself.
I'm not interested,
In changing minds,
Hard and firm,
Just like my own.
The current political temperature,
Has set family member,
Against family member,
Religion against religion.
When it comes to politics.
The battle of the North and South,
Rages on today.......
The prompt was to create a poem about a "stand", take a stand, or build a stand, etc.etc.
I hate to have to take a stand,
It's not that I'm maleable,
Or can easily be pushed around,
It's just that I hate comfrontation.
I find I'm usually on the
"Other" side of the fence,
On any issue.
I don't really care,
That people have
A different point of view.
I assume they have,
Come to it,
After much thought,
Just like myself.
I'm not interested,
In changing minds,
Hard and firm,
Just like my own.
The current political temperature,
Has set family member,
Against family member,
Religion against religion.
When it comes to politics.
The battle of the North and South,
Rages on today.......
Monday November 22, 2010 One Stop Poetry/Thanksgiving
http:// One Stop Poetry.blogspot.com
Four days until Thanksgiving,
As a child this was always a holiday,
Of friends and family.
I look back,
And like confitti,
The days of my life,
Flutter colorfully before me.
Each piece hard to catch,
For up close inspection.
People and places,
All are gone now,
Only in memory,
They gather round the table,
Wrapped in familiar holiday smells,
Raise their glasses,
In love and good cheer.
Today perhaps life
Seems more a burden,
Open wounds of loss,
Too fresh to ignore.
The heart misses,
The ones who are not here,
Age amd illness.
Have slowed the pace,
Footsteps unsteady.
But through it all,
A day to celebrate,
We are still here,
Though slightly diminished,
Life is still good,
Give thanks,
One more year,
One more holiday.
Four days until Thanksgiving,
As a child this was always a holiday,
Of friends and family.
I look back,
And like confitti,
The days of my life,
Flutter colorfully before me.
Each piece hard to catch,
For up close inspection.
People and places,
All are gone now,
Only in memory,
They gather round the table,
Wrapped in familiar holiday smells,
Raise their glasses,
In love and good cheer.
Today perhaps life
Seems more a burden,
Open wounds of loss,
Too fresh to ignore.
The heart misses,
The ones who are not here,
Age amd illness.
Have slowed the pace,
Footsteps unsteady.
But through it all,
A day to celebrate,
We are still here,
Though slightly diminished,
Life is still good,
Give thanks,
One more year,
One more holiday.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Sunday 21, 2010 Sunday Scribblings/What a Difference a Day Makes
http://Sundayscribbings.blogspot.com
What a Difference a Day Makes
The ground shudders beneath my feet,
The lights go out,
My eyes are blind, I cannot see,
It seems there is a loud blast,
I cover my ears in pain.
Just a small disappointment,
Not really larger than another,
I've lived mny years,
And there have been many others,
The lights go out,
My eyes are blind, I cannot see.
But when you've dived deep within,
Experienced all there is in the muck,
Often you have no way to control,
What you feel, it's all the worst.
It sucks! It seems there is a loud blast,
I cover my ears in pain.
Sometimes I know no way to heal,
But have to wait.
For another difference a day can make.
The ground will shudder beneath my feet.
What a Difference a Day Makes
The ground shudders beneath my feet,
The lights go out,
My eyes are blind, I cannot see,
It seems there is a loud blast,
I cover my ears in pain.
Just a small disappointment,
Not really larger than another,
I've lived mny years,
And there have been many others,
The lights go out,
My eyes are blind, I cannot see.
But when you've dived deep within,
Experienced all there is in the muck,
Often you have no way to control,
What you feel, it's all the worst.
It sucks! It seems there is a loud blast,
I cover my ears in pain.
Sometimes I know no way to heal,
But have to wait.
For another difference a day can make.
The ground will shudder beneath my feet.
Sunday November 21, 2010 PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 21
htttp://blog.writersdigest.com
The challenge for today was to write a poem that included permission or no permission needed.
To Grandma's House for the Holidays
When at the airport,
Travel has become so complicated,
Security is the issue,
X-ray or pat.
No permission is needed,
This way or that.
You might as well go naked,
Don't consider what to wear,
Stand on the yellow footshapes,
Hands in the air.
Your bones are perfectly visable,
No permission is needed,
This way or that.
What is better x-ray or pat?
Still the guy beside me,
Had a cough, a real hack,
Probably sick and passed it to me.
How to protect yourself from that?
No permission is needed,
This way or that.
There is no way to be totally safe.
It's all theater,
Makes us think,
What if.....
It's all a terroist's plot?
No permission is needed,
This way or that.
Makes the trip a tense,
And stressful adventure,
"Over the river and through the woods,"
Was how it used to be.
A little outing nearby,
A visit to Grandma's house,
No permission is needed,
This way or that.
And now it's more like,
Little Red Riding Hood,
Who arrived to find,
The wolf in Grandma's bed.
Beware, Be afraid,
It's terrifying!
No permission is needed,
This way or that.
The challenge for today was to write a poem that included permission or no permission needed.
To Grandma's House for the Holidays
When at the airport,
Travel has become so complicated,
Security is the issue,
X-ray or pat.
No permission is needed,
This way or that.
You might as well go naked,
Don't consider what to wear,
Stand on the yellow footshapes,
Hands in the air.
Your bones are perfectly visable,
No permission is needed,
This way or that.
What is better x-ray or pat?
Still the guy beside me,
Had a cough, a real hack,
Probably sick and passed it to me.
How to protect yourself from that?
No permission is needed,
This way or that.
There is no way to be totally safe.
It's all theater,
Makes us think,
What if.....
It's all a terroist's plot?
No permission is needed,
This way or that.
Makes the trip a tense,
And stressful adventure,
"Over the river and through the woods,"
Was how it used to be.
A little outing nearby,
A visit to Grandma's house,
No permission is needed,
This way or that.
And now it's more like,
Little Red Riding Hood,
Who arrived to find,
The wolf in Grandma's bed.
Beware, Be afraid,
It's terrifying!
No permission is needed,
This way or that.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Saturday 20, 2010 PAD Capbook Challenge/ Right or Wrong, Wrong or Right
Poetic Asides with Robert Brewer. The challenge today was to write a poem "Whats right or what is wrong."
Right or Wrong, Wrong or Right
Is it all the same?
What's right for me,
Might be wrong for you,
Samething in reverse.
But there are things,
We know to be right,
And we would say,
That's right every time,
Turn around,
Stand on your head,
Still right and not wrong.
And there are things that are wrong,
Where ever you go,
You will know,
That's wrong,
Still wrong,
And not right.
Right or Wrong, Wrong or Right
Is it all the same?
What's right for me,
Might be wrong for you,
Samething in reverse.
But there are things,
We know to be right,
And we would say,
That's right every time,
Turn around,
Stand on your head,
Still right and not wrong.
And there are things that are wrong,
Where ever you go,
You will know,
That's wrong,
Still wrong,
And not right.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Friday November 19, 2010 Poetry Big Tent
http://bigtentpoetry.org
The prompt was to write a cascade poem.
Big Apple Circus
The Big Apple Circus,
The big top had an unusual form,
It was a one ring circus,
Just your European norm,
A film was made, about
The folks in the circus,
Their lives in and out,
The Big Apple Circus,
There was a tight rope walker,
Jugglers, and such,
The tiny horse died,
The big top had an unual form.
The clowns were introduced,
Their act they perfected,
Made everyone laugh,
It was a one ring circus.
The fliers were graceful,
The catcher had a stronge arm,
They flew through the air.
Just your European norm.
The prompt was to write a cascade poem.
Big Apple Circus
The Big Apple Circus,
The big top had an unusual form,
It was a one ring circus,
Just your European norm,
A film was made, about
The folks in the circus,
Their lives in and out,
The Big Apple Circus,
There was a tight rope walker,
Jugglers, and such,
The tiny horse died,
The big top had an unual form.
The clowns were introduced,
Their act they perfected,
Made everyone laugh,
It was a one ring circus.
The fliers were graceful,
The catcher had a stronge arm,
They flew through the air.
Just your European norm.
Friday November 19, 2010 Chapbook Challenge, Day 19
http://blog, writers digest.com
The challenge today was to write a poem with a hole in it.
There are Holes in Most Everything
When considering a hole,
You will find, there
Are holes in most everything.
Some are good,
And others are to be avoided,
Some are open,
And let the sun shine through,
Others are shallow, not too deep.
Some are heavy,
Much too much to carry,
Others are small,
Just big enough for a button.
Some are useful,
While others are painful,
There are holes in most everything.
Holes in the ground,
Holes in the sky,
Holes in your heart,
For no reason why.
The challenge today was to write a poem with a hole in it.
There are Holes in Most Everything
When considering a hole,
You will find, there
Are holes in most everything.
Some are good,
And others are to be avoided,
Some are open,
And let the sun shine through,
Others are shallow, not too deep.
Some are heavy,
Much too much to carry,
Others are small,
Just big enough for a button.
Some are useful,
While others are painful,
There are holes in most everything.
Holes in the ground,
Holes in the sky,
Holes in your heart,
For no reason why.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Thursday November 18, 2010 PAD Challenge Lost and Found Poem
http://blog.blog.writersdigest.com
A Lost and found Poem
Paradise lost is a theme you see,
And found again behind a tree.
I lost my penny,
Then found it again.
Lost my way,
And found home again,
Lost my lover,
Then found another.
Life is like that,
Many things are lost, it seems,
But if we focus on what is found,
Lay it out, on the ground,
A paradise appears to be,
The things we found behind the tree.
Thursday November 18, 2010 Theme Thursday Food
http://themethursday.blogspot.com
Food
The abundance of food,
The dougnuts and bagals,
Carrots and ham,
Are the building blocks
Of who I am.
Foods I've eaten
Foods I've known,
Foods I imagine,
When I think of home
Yellow, green, white, and red--
Still there are those,
Hungrey to bed.
Sweet cream, cold cuts,
And cheese,
Pass me another
If you please.
And when I say grace,
I'll remember your face,
The one without,
Lost from me.
Are we the greedy,
Without heart?
Can we help?
What can we do?
The world just isn't kind,
You see,
Sometimes, there isn't a place,
For you......and me.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Wednesday 17, 2010 Mag 41
www. Magpietales.blogspot.com
Cock-a-Doodle-Do!
Time on the clock
Has nothing to do with,
The time of the cock.
Cock-a-Doodle-Do!
Will wake you from
The snooze,
To the new day,
With much to do.
He's a bit of a pest,
A regular shrew,
Turn over,
Back to sleep.
Cock-a-Doodle-Do!
Wednesday November 17, 2010 "Tell me Why............."
Poetics Asides with Robert Lee Brewer 2010 November PAD Capbook Challenge Day 17
Tell me Why I Missed the Prompt For Today?
I read it through,
Even read it again.
I thought there was no prompt.
All mixed up,
Wrote about how plans,
Often don't work out.
Posted my poem,
Went back,
And there was the prompt for the day.
Tell me why, I say,
I missed the prompt for today.
Tell me Why I Missed the Prompt For Today?
I read it through,
Even read it again.
I thought there was no prompt.
All mixed up,
Wrote about how plans,
Often don't work out.
Posted my poem,
Went back,
And there was the prompt for the day.
Tell me why, I say,
I missed the prompt for today.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Tuesday November 16, 2010 Challenge is to write a stacking poem
When it Comes to Stacking
There are many things that you can stack,
Kitties, clouds, boxes and hats.
But when it comes to stacking,
There are rules, similar to packing.
Things that are heavy,
Big and black,
Should be placed,
At the bottom of the stack.
Judge their wieight and their size,
And as they deminish,
Stack them up,
One upon the other.
Until a tower you will see,
And at the top,
Will be the smallest one,
Just big enough to hold a tear,
Or...
A tiny chuckle heard in your ear.
All the elephants will be stacked below,
Strong and sturdy, nice and tall,
You'll have no fear your stack will fall,
But without these rules,
You'll have a stack gone wrong,
Helter, skelter,
Down it comes.
There are many things that you can stack,
Kitties, clouds, boxes and hats.
But when it comes to stacking,
There are rules, similar to packing.
Things that are heavy,
Big and black,
Should be placed,
At the bottom of the stack.
Judge their wieight and their size,
And as they deminish,
Stack them up,
One upon the other.
Until a tower you will see,
And at the top,
Will be the smallest one,
Just big enough to hold a tear,
Or...
A tiny chuckle heard in your ear.
All the elephants will be stacked below,
Strong and sturdy, nice and tall,
You'll have no fear your stack will fall,
But without these rules,
You'll have a stack gone wrong,
Helter, skelter,
Down it comes.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Monday 15, 2010 Poetry Bus
http://keepingsecrets-karen.blogspot.com
Path Not Taken
I can not tell you
Of the path not taken
I do not know that road,
The faces are unfamiliar,
For I chose another,
Even though the path not taken
May have been the right one,
I do not regret,
The path chosen.
Path Not Taken
I can not tell you
Of the path not taken
I do not know that road,
The faces are unfamiliar,
For I chose another,
Even though the path not taken
May have been the right one,
I do not regret,
The path chosen.
Monday November 15, 2010 Poetry Potluck
Challenge is "moods, feelings and emotions."
Moods, feelings and emotions,
What pesky little things,
Sometimes out of control,
On their own,
Turn life to chaos.
They want to be stars
In their own right,
Center stage,
Return obsessively,
Shoot the stars,
Or dive deep,
Life in the slow lane
Is not for them.
They will show up,
Upset the apple cart,
And begone again in a wink.
Moods, feelings and emotions,
What pesky little things,
Sometimes out of control,
On their own,
Turn life to chaos.
They want to be stars
In their own right,
Center stage,
Return obsessively,
Shoot the stars,
Or dive deep,
Life in the slow lane
Is not for them.
They will show up,
Upset the apple cart,
And begone again in a wink.
Monday November 15, 2010 PAD Chapbook Challenge
The challenge was "just when you thought it was safe."
Today is the fifteenth of November,
The middle of the month,
My month.
I was born in this month.
And I was a middle child.
Just when I thought it was safe,
Yes, I thought I had returned home,
To safety.
To people who cared
I was attacked in a most vicious way.
Later, I saw a film on TV
About wolves,
The older wolf didn't like a younger sister,
And drove her from the pack.
We are animals after all.
And our behavior is the same.
This happened many years ago.
But I have not forgotten,
It is like yesterday.
And I do not expect to forget.
Sometimes behavior
Goes over the line,
Goes too far,
Erases the past,
There is no going back.
Today is the fifteenth of November,
The middle of the month,
My month.
I was born in this month.
And I was a middle child.
Just when I thought it was safe,
Yes, I thought I had returned home,
To safety.
To people who cared
I was attacked in a most vicious way.
Later, I saw a film on TV
About wolves,
The older wolf didn't like a younger sister,
And drove her from the pack.
We are animals after all.
And our behavior is the same.
This happened many years ago.
But I have not forgotten,
It is like yesterday.
And I do not expect to forget.
Sometimes behavior
Goes over the line,
Goes too far,
Erases the past,
There is no going back.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Sunday November 14, Bright Ideas
Bright Ideas
Those are the best,
The world is brighter,
I find my step is lighter,
I'm excited,
Can't wait to get started.
Then there is a pause,
I question the sound of the
Chatter,
I went to the window,
And realized the multitude
Of Magpies were on my roof,
Each screaming and yelling,
Then a small hawk rose
From the sage,
A magpie on his back,
The flight took them directly,
Into my neighbor's window,
Thump!
Instant death to the magpie,
All is quiet,
I return to the studio,
Realizing that bright ideas,
Can sometimes mean
Death of one life,
All is changed
In one moment,
While thinking about bright ideas.
Sunday November 14, 2010 Homelessness
http://oneshotpoetry.blogspot.com
Homelessness
Homeless, you are my son.
If you are lost,
I will find you.
I see you on the corner,
With your cardboard sign,
And puppy at the end of a cord,
The road home,
May be a difficult one,
But I keep the light on in the window,
Tears form in my eyes,
With open arms,
I wait for you.
Sunday November 14, 2010 Crossroads
http://blog.writersdigest.com
Crossroads
To see the crossroads of our lives,
We may need a special instrument...
These crossroads may be buried,
Hidden from light.
Your going was the biggest
Crossroads of my life,
You followed the path of your destiny,
In shock, I followed mine.
Taking one step at a time,
My hands trembled,
I was alone in the dark,
I danced to the howl of the moon,
My eyes were blinded,
I used my hands,
My fingers to feel my way,
The path was a circle,
And at the end of this path,
I was my own discovery,
There is no shame in our
Lack of skill,
It is a learning experience and
There are many things to learn,
Most of all, It is the depth of the well,
And it's location.
This information,
May save our lives.
Crossroads
To see the crossroads of our lives,
We may need a special instrument...
These crossroads may be buried,
Hidden from light.
Your going was the biggest
Crossroads of my life,
You followed the path of your destiny,
In shock, I followed mine.
Taking one step at a time,
My hands trembled,
I was alone in the dark,
I danced to the howl of the moon,
My eyes were blinded,
I used my hands,
My fingers to feel my way,
The path was a circle,
And at the end of this path,
I was my own discovery,
There is no shame in our
Lack of skill,
It is a learning experience and
There are many things to learn,
Most of all, It is the depth of the well,
And it's location.
This information,
May save our lives.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Friday 12, 2010 Challenge 12/ Forget What They Said
http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/2010/11/12/2010NovemberPADChapbookChallengeDay12.aspx
Things to Forget, And Things to Remember
Forget what they said,
They said you couldn't be a writer.
You were not tall enough,
Had no imagination,
Couldn't spell.
Forget what they said,
You couldn't be an artist,
After all you were the
Girl next door.
You were a woman
Forget what they said,
When they said, you
Couldn't fly.
Your only limits are
Your own thoughts and beliefs.
Remember instead,
Yes, I can!
You can do anything,
Be anything.
Say it everyday.
Things to Forget, And Things to Remember
Forget what they said,
They said you couldn't be a writer.
You were not tall enough,
Had no imagination,
Couldn't spell.
Forget what they said,
You couldn't be an artist,
After all you were the
Girl next door.
You were a woman
Forget what they said,
When they said, you
Couldn't fly.
Your only limits are
Your own thoughts and beliefs.
Remember instead,
Yes, I can!
You can do anything,
Be anything.
Say it everyday.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Thursday November 11, 2010 2010 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 11
The challenge was to write a poem, "No One Wants.........." fill in the blank.
http://blog.writersdigest.com
No One Wants to Have His Feathers Removed
No one wants
To have his feathers removed,
For this would be the end of flying,
To no longer soar across town,
With the greatest of ease.
It would be a cruel fate.
But this must have happened at sometime.
As I rarely see a human fly,
And have not been known to do so myself.
http://blog.writersdigest.com
No One Wants to Have His Feathers Removed
No one wants
To have his feathers removed,
For this would be the end of flying,
To no longer soar across town,
With the greatest of ease.
It would be a cruel fate.
But this must have happened at sometime.
As I rarely see a human fly,
And have not been known to do so myself.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Wednesday November 10, 2010 MAG 40
Monkey King
Monkey King in your temple of gold.
I saw you in Nikko,
Wearing your beautiful fur coat,
Lined with royal blue tapestry.
You wore baubles and beads,
To denote your rank.
You were lord of your gang,
Bullybang, you sat by the road,
Waved hello, and goodbye,
And as I left your town,
You were the last one I saw,
Up in a bare winter's tree.
Wednesday November 10, 2010 Challenge #10/ A Love Poem
http://blog.writersdigest.com
A Love Poem
The morning is still, and quiet.
The idea of love,
Seems an unexpected thing.
Far from home,
Out at sea,
A rough rider,
Makes a big splash,
Love hurts sometime,
This is also unexpected.
My first thought is romantic love,
But there are so many things
And people to love,
Apart from romance.
Often a love we forget is our work,
I dream of it at night,
It makes me whole,
It invites me to be me,
I can't wait for each day to begin,
The opportunity to be in my work,
I have heard some people don't like their work,
This would make me sad,
My work is my life,
My expression.
And I think of you....
You have turned from me,
Shall I try again to reach you?
Does love continue to try?
Over time is there an answer?
Oh, love is such a complicated thing.
Sometimes love returns to you,
Without rhyme or reason,
You pick up the phone there it is,
You open a box,
Something in that box
Reminds you of the missing,
Love is everywhere,
It's up to you to find it.
A Love Poem
The morning is still, and quiet.
The idea of love,
Seems an unexpected thing.
Far from home,
Out at sea,
A rough rider,
Makes a big splash,
Love hurts sometime,
This is also unexpected.
My first thought is romantic love,
But there are so many things
And people to love,
Apart from romance.
Often a love we forget is our work,
I dream of it at night,
It makes me whole,
It invites me to be me,
I can't wait for each day to begin,
The opportunity to be in my work,
I have heard some people don't like their work,
This would make me sad,
My work is my life,
My expression.
And I think of you....
You have turned from me,
Shall I try again to reach you?
Does love continue to try?
Over time is there an answer?
Oh, love is such a complicated thing.
Sometimes love returns to you,
Without rhyme or reason,
You pick up the phone there it is,
You open a box,
Something in that box
Reminds you of the missing,
Love is everywhere,
It's up to you to find it.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Tuesday, November 9, 2010 The Challenge was to write a Slow Poem
http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/
I Begin Again, Slowly...
I am alone in the studio, It is overcast,
The clouds hang like
A gray blanket over the village.
There is a low light coming thru the windows,
All is quiet.
I begin the day slowly,
I review the work
Accomplished yesterday,
I reject it all.
Reminding myself,
It is not a "waste,"
I was practicing and
I learned much.
I clear my work space,
To begin again.
I select different paper,
I hang brushes to dry,
Carelessly left in water,
I choose new brushes,
And select paint.
At the end of this day,
Or in the morning,
I will review my work,
And I will begin again,
Slowly.
The path of creativity,
Is a slow process,
I am required to bring,
All that I am,
Or Ever have been,
Or experienced,
To my work,
This becomes my map,
My compass.
I take a deep breath,
And I begin, again,
Slowly.......
I Begin Again, Slowly...
I am alone in the studio, It is overcast,
The clouds hang like
A gray blanket over the village.
There is a low light coming thru the windows,
All is quiet.
I begin the day slowly,
I review the work
Accomplished yesterday,
I reject it all.
Reminding myself,
It is not a "waste,"
I was practicing and
I learned much.
I clear my work space,
To begin again.
I select different paper,
I hang brushes to dry,
Carelessly left in water,
I choose new brushes,
And select paint.
At the end of this day,
Or in the morning,
I will review my work,
And I will begin again,
Slowly.
The path of creativity,
Is a slow process,
I am required to bring,
All that I am,
Or Ever have been,
Or experienced,
To my work,
This becomes my map,
My compass.
I take a deep breath,
And I begin, again,
Slowly.......
Monday, November 8, 2010
Monday November 8, 2010 Second Book Project
This is my second book project. I have been working on it, along with the first book project, Petite Enchantments. The pagoda itself is a paper mache box, and has four compartments. And there is a book in each compartment. The content of the books are my own drawings.
Monday November 8, 2010 A Poem of Agreement
http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/2010/11/08/NovemberPADChapbookChallengeDay8.aspx
The challenge was to write a poem of agreement.
The Agreement
You ask me to agree,
But how can I?
Without knowing the terms
You propose.
Come sit by me,
Explain your desire,
I'm sure I will agree,
If what you say is
Reasonable and sound,
It will be an agreement
Of the heart ,you see.
The challenge was to write a poem of agreement.
The Agreement
You ask me to agree,
But how can I?
Without knowing the terms
You propose.
Come sit by me,
Explain your desire,
I'm sure I will agree,
If what you say is
Reasonable and sound,
It will be an agreement
Of the heart ,you see.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Sunday November 7, 2010 Petite Enchantments
This is my first completed project. I have always been interested in books, and thru the years have become more and more interested in artist's books. So I have decided to become a creator of artist's books. The tiny bookcase is a found object. I have painted it with five coats of buttermilk paint, the final coat was a light cream. I will put a piece of glass into the door of the bookcase, and there will be a final finish on the cabinet. At first I planned 20 books, but decided I liked it not so full, but more casual. I chose this as my first project, so I could learn something about book binding. I have several projects planned, and will post them as they are finished.
Sunday November 7, 2010 Challenge #7/ Pro-Something Poem
November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 7
http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/
My pen is poised above white paper.
I am ready to explore, to examine,
And you say, "pro-something."
I am stopped in my tracks.
My pen is motionless,
and remains poised.
What is this Pro-something I wish to write about?
My mind finds you in the darkness,
I drag you into the light,
It is you, you are the one.
Your smile lingers in my mind.
The smell of you follows me thru the day,
Your touch upon my skin,
Awakens my desire.
Without you, all would be the same,
Except for the big hole,
Your leaving would create.
You ask how I would feel,
If you went away for a while,
Took a trip for three months?
Can I say, your absence would leave me lonely?
Your coming or going,
Has grown to be important
And you, how would you feel?
We never know for sure,
Exactly where we will be.
You have to do whatever it is,
You need to do.
It would be an adventure for sure.
Would I become the mummy,
Waiting in my tomb for you,
Uttering soft whispers of love
And longing?
There are other ways to be sure,
A chariot ride with wind in my hair,
A merry-go round,
Riding the circle of time.
Like the French Lieutenant's woman
Waiting.....
Or would I even notice your absence?
My life is full,
There is so much I want to do.
I run each day,
My work is demanding.
No one can say
When it comes to the future.
We'll have to wait,
For the curtain to rise,
See what is written,
It will be one way or the other,
We'll have to test the wind,
Chart a course,
Put out our sails.
http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/
My pen is poised above white paper.
I am ready to explore, to examine,
And you say, "pro-something."
I am stopped in my tracks.
My pen is motionless,
and remains poised.
What is this Pro-something I wish to write about?
My mind finds you in the darkness,
I drag you into the light,
It is you, you are the one.
Your smile lingers in my mind.
The smell of you follows me thru the day,
Your touch upon my skin,
Awakens my desire.
Without you, all would be the same,
Except for the big hole,
Your leaving would create.
You ask how I would feel,
If you went away for a while,
Took a trip for three months?
Can I say, your absence would leave me lonely?
Your coming or going,
Has grown to be important
And you, how would you feel?
We never know for sure,
Exactly where we will be.
You have to do whatever it is,
You need to do.
It would be an adventure for sure.
Would I become the mummy,
Waiting in my tomb for you,
Uttering soft whispers of love
And longing?
There are other ways to be sure,
A chariot ride with wind in my hair,
A merry-go round,
Riding the circle of time.
Like the French Lieutenant's woman
Waiting.....
Or would I even notice your absence?
My life is full,
There is so much I want to do.
I run each day,
My work is demanding.
No one can say
When it comes to the future.
We'll have to wait,
For the curtain to rise,
See what is written,
It will be one way or the other,
We'll have to test the wind,
Chart a course,
Put out our sails.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Saturday November 6, 2010 Challenge #6/ Looking for _________
http://blog.writersdigest.com
Looking for Something
I went to the book store,
On the South end of town,
The proprietor offered to help,
But I told her I was looking
for something, but
I didn't know what.
I looked thru the fiction,
And the nonfiction.
Thru the art section.
Thru travel and adventure,
I looked thru the self help,
Just in case.
I left the store empty
Handed. Life
Is that way sometimes,
We need to know what
We are looking for,
We then have more of a
Chance to find it.
But sometimes it is the
Adventure of the hunt.
And who knows after all
Maybe one day we will find it.
Looking for You
My feet in the warm
shallow waves,
I called your name,
I said goodbye in yellow,
As I planted the daffodils.
I stand on the mesa
And howl to the moon.
The Mad Madonna.
You are lost to me
Suddenly the earth trembled,
Your absence fills my heart.
Looking for Something
I went to the book store,
On the South end of town,
The proprietor offered to help,
But I told her I was looking
for something, but
I didn't know what.
I looked thru the fiction,
And the nonfiction.
Thru the art section.
Thru travel and adventure,
I looked thru the self help,
Just in case.
I left the store empty
Handed. Life
Is that way sometimes,
We need to know what
We are looking for,
We then have more of a
Chance to find it.
But sometimes it is the
Adventure of the hunt.
And who knows after all
Maybe one day we will find it.
Looking for You
My feet in the warm
shallow waves,
I called your name,
I said goodbye in yellow,
As I planted the daffodils.
I stand on the mesa
And howl to the moon.
The Mad Madonna.
You are lost to me
Suddenly the earth trembled,
Your absence fills my heart.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Friday 5, 2010 http://blog.writersdigest.com
Day 5, The challenge was to write a metamorphosis poem.
The Importance of Today
At this stage of life,
One is probably,
Amazed at what we have become.
Yesterday, I was a girl,
With girlish hopes and dreams.
Today I am an old person,
Coasting on the downhill side of life,
Very aware if I am to accomplish anything,
It needs to be done today!
The Importance of Today
At this stage of life,
One is probably,
Amazed at what we have become.
Yesterday, I was a girl,
With girlish hopes and dreams.
Today I am an old person,
Coasting on the downhill side of life,
Very aware if I am to accomplish anything,
It needs to be done today!
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Wednesday November 3, 2010 2010 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 3
THE LAND OF ENCHANTMENT
The sky is wide, too big,
To gather into my arms,
Instead it gathers me.
The color is often the bluest blue,
Clouds position themselves into,
Abstract patterns 360 degrees.
Wherever you turn the landscape,
Opens up to you,
And you see,
Something never seen before,
The wind scours the land,
And carries memories,
Of ancient things.
If you listen you might hear,
Voices of people from,
Long years ago.
It is called the land of enchantment,
And it is true,
You will find you are enchanted,
Or mesmerized. A dream
In which to wander.
Mountains rise from the desert floor,
And the sage covers the rolling mesas,
To create the illusion of a vast sea,
And when night falls,
The whole sky is filled with bright stars.
In winter the smell of burning pinion
Fills the air.
As after a rain,
The aroma of the sage makes one heady,
I have come to this place,
Like no other,
I have sunk my roots deep,
And I never cease to be amazed.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Tuesday Novmber 2, 2010--Not Ready or Never Ready Poem
Regardless of how much we try,
To be prepared.
When death calls,
It's always such a surprise,
We are not ready,
And perhaps we will never be ready.
There is no need to linger here,
It is universal,
Death comes as a surprise,
We are not ready,
And perhaps we will never be ready.
There is something human to long
For eternal life.
But life is limited,
Death is a blessing,
We are not ready,
And perhaps we will never be ready
But wait...what if we greeted Death
Each morning,
And said goodnight to him
Each night?
Would he become our companion?
And no longer surprise us at his presence?
To be prepared.
When death calls,
It's always such a surprise,
We are not ready,
And perhaps we will never be ready.
There is no need to linger here,
It is universal,
Death comes as a surprise,
We are not ready,
And perhaps we will never be ready.
There is something human to long
For eternal life.
But life is limited,
Death is a blessing,
We are not ready,
And perhaps we will never be ready
But wait...what if we greeted Death
Each morning,
And said goodnight to him
Each night?
Would he become our companion?
And no longer surprise us at his presence?
Monday, November 1, 2010
Monday November 1, 2010 PAD Chapbook Challenge
2010 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 1
http://blog.writersdigest.com
Closing the Door or Turning the Page
The only way to know
The door will remain closed
Or the page will remain unturned,
Is death itself,
And even so...
Memory may dredge up what
Is forgotten
Throw it down before you,
For another inspection.
That is life and as Isak Denison
Says, "We must tell the story
To ourselves, over and over until
We can at last..."
Quietly close the door,
Or tenderly turn the page.
http://blog.writersdigest.com
Closing the Door or Turning the Page
The only way to know
The door will remain closed
Or the page will remain unturned,
Is death itself,
And even so...
Memory may dredge up what
Is forgotten
Throw it down before you,
For another inspection.
That is life and as Isak Denison
Says, "We must tell the story
To ourselves, over and over until
We can at last..."
Quietly close the door,
Or tenderly turn the page.
Monday November 1, 2010 Poetry Potluck -- Halloween
Halloween
I would like Halloween
To be my favorite holiday,
It comes at my favorite season,
But like all holidays,
It is an interruption to my time in the studio,
As an artist, instead of a "day off,"
I need more days to work.
365 days a year is just not enough,
To inquire, to delve, to explore,
To experiment, to execute,
No, there just aren't enough days at all.
A life time is just too short,
But I try to make each day count.
To show up, to be present
With a pure heart and a clear mind.
And when all is said and done,
I'll try to match my goals,
With the work accomplished,
And I'll be glad to see what I have done,
Even though there isn't enough time.
http://jinglepoetry.blogspot.com/2010/10/poetry-potluck-halloween.html
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