What Is A Love Poem
What is a love poem
What should it look like
Hugs and kisses
Woven together
I was told once
If you are a weaver
Who weaves the cloth
You will fill it with love
Will a love poem be like that
Will it be like a special treasure
Hidden in the clenched fist
You are the poet
Will you put love into everyday words
Create a love poem
December 17, 2017
Words of a painter about art, painting and other thoughts about life, death and things that get in the way. I began my blog 2010.
Sunday, December 17, 2017
Wednesday, December 13, 2017
Poets United Midweek Motif/Celebrate
Celebrate The Snow For It Is Not a Permanent Thing/ When the
Sun Comes Out It Melts
We are told it is the season to be jolly          celebrate         be of good cheer
I awake each morning            with
good intentions              my
disposition tenuous
As delicate as the wing of a butterfly        or a rainbow       like melting snow
It appears                    and then it is gone      soon the corners of my mouth turn down
Memory begins to paint its picture    I remember     a beautiful
boy            
Strong and blond        a
funny character        against all odds we
had high hopes               
Your sailor hat cocked
to the side       your little black dog at
your heels      
what should not happen         happened        one minute you were here     
The next gone             in
place of snow         only a memory
remains
December 13, 2017
Tuesday, December 12, 2017
dVerse/ My Work Is Made Up of Straight Lines and You Know How Hard It Is To Draw A Straight Line
My Work Is Made Up of
Straight Lines and You Know How Hard It Is To Draw A Straight Line
At the beginning of each
day                I am self-conscious      of each brush stroke
The brush wobbles                               a straight line
is impossible       I continue
I begin to relax                         confidence sneaks in                the straight line comes easy
I am no longer aware of
myself            it is as if “I” have
left the room      no longer in the way
I have found my groove                       when I paint                 I construct the painting
Build it from the ground
up                 layer upon layer           the straight lines                      
join to create shapes                 sometimes the shapes join other
shapes        make new shapes
when I finish    it all looks like it is carefully planned               my
self-consciousness doesn’t show
December 12, 2017                                                                             
Monday, December 11, 2017
dVerse/ Haibun Monday. The peompt is, " Pleasantly Surprised" --Frank is our host.
to write                       gather
words into a coffee can          drop them
onto the white paper
sometimes      we are
pleasantly surprised        to find we have actually created poetry
collect nouns and verbs          show
action                            tell a tale
be it true                     or something from the brain’s
closet    carefully folded away
saved from long ago    for
this very day         waiting for the
right time to appear
maybe several stories in one     surprise
yourself                 sit down at the
loom
and weave      the
threads of different colors together        create
one story
someone’s ending                  another’s
beginning                who knew                   
where the story would take you         where it would go      what
would be revealed         
does truth matter                   I
think not                                telling
your story is the goal
slight of hand                          now
you see it            now you don’t
gather words in a coffee can
drop inky black onto white paper
a story of snow and dark shadows
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
Not Just A Cup
Not Just a Cup Southern born Not a tea drinker Always coffee For me Although I often find Bitter taste Of the dark brew A bit muc...
- 
I am taking some time off from posting on my blog. I am studying, practicing, have so much to learn....
- 
A Piece of Yarn i opened the door startled a pair of fly catchers they flew in unison a perfect circle... then another ...
 
