So you say
only birds gather
to crow and cackle,
perched on wires
their party line?
Yet I see
humans wearing blinders
yes-we-believing
crowing the party line,
trying to keep their perch.
My hope?
I sense winds shifting,
see phoenix regain strength
poised to regenerate
and soar again in truth.
Written for Misky’s Twiglet #181: so you say. Photo from pixabay.com
If only, she said . . .
Abbracadabra
first star I see tonight.
And she closed her eyes
shut so tight.
Oh please, please . . .
then opened wide.
But there she was,
still standing
still waiting . . .
Written for Misky’s Twigletprompt #182: the words “if only”
Merm me –
shiny gleaming teal and aqua blue
magically beautiful and intelligent,
free to explore and dare.
Merm me –
flow, glide, glissade
braided seaweed round my wrists
necklaced in seashells and coral bright.
Would that I could . . .
dive deeply
escape earth’s rancor
and rollick in rolling waves.
Of what good are legs
and human lungs
when hell
is inhumanity on earth?
What if only life within the sea
in and of the sea,
can live and love
within the lunar tides?
Written for Tuesday Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, where today De asks us to write a poem that is somehow related to mermaids. Image from pixabay.com I must admit, I have always been smitten with the idea of mermaids!
Saturday, October 19th, 2013. A beautiful crisp fall day. Our condominium complex drive was cheerfully planted with bright cushion mums. Little did we know in July 1997, when we moved from Iowa to Boston, how important that housing choice and this date would become.
Our condominium high rise building is across the street from side entrances to Massachusetts General Hospital, one of the premiere healthcare facilities in the United States. As some of you already know, on Monday, October 14th, 2013, my husband suffered a six-minute cardiac arrest in front of our building. He was rushed by ambulance to MGH; put into an induced coma on life support. They lowered his body temperature and gave him a paralytic drug to keep him absolutely still, trying to minimize brain damage.
On Tuesday evening, October 15th, his body temperature was slowly raised as he was weaned from the paralytic drug. We were told he may or may not wake up. If he did, it would not be for at least 72 hours and, in all likelihood, he would not be himself. Against all odds, he woke up at 9 PM that night. Wednesday morning October 16th, he was taken off life support, intubation tube removed, and he correctly answered all questions posed to him by a neurologist. On Thursday, October 17th, he was moved to the cardiac step-down unit, out of intensive care. Friday, October 18th, he had a defibrillator implanted. Saturday, October 19th, he was released from the hospital. And in one shining moment, with our son and daughter on either side of him, he walked back home. Back across the street and back into our lives.
dark clouds dissipate – –
honeysuckle blooms again
bees hum in bright sun
Photo is a bit blurry as I was crying tears of joy when I took it.
Written for Haibun Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets where today I’m hosting and asking folks to write about one shining moment in their lives.
Man, woman
he, she.
Human humanity
their, heir
inhumanity.
Manual workmen
and man hours.
Policeman, fireman
chairman too.
Language affects action.
Live,
love,
be.
Written for Tuesday’s Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. Anmol hosts and asks us to write a poem about “pride, gender, fluidity, sexuality, protest . . .” Image from Pixabay.com
Rolling hills,
myriad shades of green.
Drive slowly, windows open . . .
Fresh crisp air,
cloudless blue sky.
Drumlins shaped patiently by glacial ice,
Mother Earth’s gentle curves.
Vibrant wildflowers here . . .
flowering brush there.
Stop. Rest.
Inhale the quiet calm.
Written for Quadrille Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. We are to use the word “drum” or a form of the word, within our exactly 44 word poem. Image from Pixabay.com
Believe in
Love.
Actually begin to
Comprehend,
Knowingly.
Live today
Inquiring, searching.
View
Equality as
Something
Meant for, but not given to
All.
Take time
To
Explore white privilege as
Reality. And understand,
ACROSTIC: poem in which the first letter of each line, when read from top to bottom, has meaning. Sharing with OLN at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets.
TO READ THIS POEM:
1. Read as you would a normal poem, noting the last line ends with a comma,
2. so continue reading by going to the first letter of each line (bolded) and puting these letters together, you have the actual ending of the poem.
She sat on the antiquity store’s floor and opened the diary – forcing its bent blackened silver latch. The first water-stained page said Miriam‘s Property. Turning that page, she began to read the faded script.
Dearest sister. I shall explain only here. It is far too difficult to say aloud, as surely your tears would flow. We have shared our mother’s womb; secrets; our very clothes. Never have we needed a mirror as our faces reflect each other’s. But I am no longer you. I long to experience more than our future holds. More than mother dearest teaches us; than father expects. You gossip with ladies on our streets. I near choke as dust engulfs my dreams. We go in different directions down the imperturbable street. And so tonight, I
There were no more words. Just empty pages ~ fragile and mildewed, minus Miriam’s hand.
Written a bit late for Monday’s dVerse prosery prompt; posted today for OLN.
Prosery is a form unique to dVerse: flash fiction, no more than 144 words, that includes a given line of poetry, exactly as it is written.
Merril asked us to include the line “We go in different directions down the imperturbable street.” The line is from Gwendolyn Brooks’ poem An Aspect of Love, Alive in the Ice and Fire.
Voices gain volume
numbers explode,
paradigm shift dawns.
Breeze gathers force
waters churn,
tsunami rolls in.
Murder abhorrent
eclipses pandemic,
births needed polemic.
Privilege unmasked
blinders torn asunder,
we will change.
Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. Today Frank asks us to write a 3 line poem….or a poem with 3-line stanzas. Photo from Pixabay.com
dark clouds gather,
humidity thickens.
Thunder mumbles, then roars
lightning rips through skies.
Slip inside for thine own relief
breathe in thine own security.
Or gather outside ‘neath city lights
take hands in solidarity.
Pray together for soothing rains
to ease this land’s parched soul.
Then work together that all may live
without the threat of storms.
Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, combining yesterday’s prompt word “slip” and today’s prompt to write a poem that related to rain.
