Author: lillian

Life on the Wall

lillian41 Comments

Can the rough stuff on the wall.
Spray it rough, slingin’ words. Crap tough graffiti.
It’s me sprawled here. My stuff. My hustle.
Sling the crap y’all. This ain’t no conference call.
Life sucks, no shit. And you’re no prize, sweetie.
That paint’s my soul. Hands rough from slingin’ shit.
Are ya listnin’? I can scrap the words and shift to muscle.
Shit happens and guess what? I’m still here takin’ the hit.

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Photo Credit: Audrey Johnson. A San San (means three three in Chinese) written for Day 14, NaPoWriMo.  A San San is a seven line poem, ABCABDCD rhyme scheme with three “terms”  repeated three times. Also written for dVerse Open Link Night!

Notes from a Musical Interlude Fantasia 2

lillian40 Comments

It was the big band era, lots of brass
Billy whalin’ on the drums
while Johnny waited for his riff
makin’ the keyboard swing.

And me, standin’ on the riser
my long arms waitin’ too.
“Wing span of a hawk” mama said,
just the ticket for a trombone man.

Yeah, I could slide that brass
hear the notes clear and smooth
no strings or keys,
just that long sleek glide.

And Mabel at the mic,
feathers clipped in henna dyed hair
sultry voice in the sweet spots
hips, always swingin’ to the beat.

Never made it big like the Duke
but we had our gigs.
A glass of gin between sets
and smoke swirlin’ round our heads.

They’re all gone now.
Pawned my ‘bone long time ago.
But sometimes, while I’m sittin’ here
I can put myself there.

I close my eyes and start to sway
Mabel leanin’ real close like she did.
I wheel this chair around a bit
and I can feel us back there again,
swingin’ to that big band sound.

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Rescored for dVerse Poetics Fantasia. This was originally posted in 2015, inspired by Carl Sandburg’s Jazz Fantasia. I’ve reworked it a bit — thinking it a good one for today’s prompt. I am hosting dVerse today — wonderful experience. In the words of Carl Sandburg, Go to it oh jazzmen!

Bermudiana Morn

lillian48 Comments

I awake at dawn to sit outside,
watch darkness turn to light,
listen to the fantasia
composed by friends of flight.

Gulls screech, black birds caw,
blend in loud cacophony.
Yellow kiskadees sing their name
kiss-kah-dee atop palmetto tree.

Whistle woo, ee-ooh ee-oohs,
stutter sounds that stop and start.
Nature’s composition,
her ode to sunrise joy.

Sparrows peep and chirp beside me,
ruffle flutter wings then flee
startled by my scratching pen
scoring sounds of brightness in the morn.

Sun warms as notes begin to simmer
overture slowly ends.
Curtain rises on blue skies,
a new Bermuda day.

Thrilled to be guest-hosting dVerse Poetics today! Loving all things fantastical, my poem today uses “fantasia” as it relates to a musical free flow composition. Video from our deck in Bermuda, listening to the dawn. You’ll hear the Kiskadee (yellow bird) quite plainly. And this is one of my many feathered friends who came often to sit with me. Also applying to  NaPoWriMo Day 12.

How Long Can We Ignore?

lillian30 Comments

Alaska weeps daily. Generations of ice, layer upon layer, receding.
Our hush, accompanied by the incessant slow drip of her melting tears.
Like a primal scream from self-inflicted wound, the crack of calving
sends shock waves through our cold.

We turn gingerly, hiking sticks in hand, clamp-ons strapped to boots.
Our quiet retreat is nudged by descending mist. A veil to cover her shards.

Earth dies every day.
We stand on the precipice
blind to her needs.

Glacier melting.

Written for Haibun Monday at dVerse. Prompt is to reach out, write somehow about a silence among us.  Photos from our 2015 trip to Alaska. Chunks of ice as the cruise ship approaches Hubbard Glacier; its shelf looks so small here — in reality it is hugely tall and in the sun, appears as this beautiful color. Other two photos from our 5 mile hike to the toe of Laughton Glacier. The close-up is on the toe, rock debris carried as the glacier slowly moves.  Look closely, about in the middle of the photo, you’ll see the melting. Incessant melting creating glacier streams. We are all too silent, watching the effects of global warming.

 

 

Forecast Error

lillian12 Comments

Once delicately balanced
upturned to the sun,
finely veined plumeria petals
lie strewn across the path.

Last eve’s maelstrom winds
unexpected. Wreaked havoc.
Battering, felling
these blushing blooms.

Perfumed scent mingles
with rotting leaves.
They shall decay
and disappear.

I trusted you,
until you became another.

plumeria-flower-2-1543659

National Poetry Writing Month continues with day eleven’s prompt: write a poem in which you closely describe an object or place, and then end with a much more abstract line that doesn’t seemingly have anything to do with that object or place, but which, of course, really does. Photo Credit: Bert Grantges.

What’s in Your Book Spines?

lillian11 Comments

i
The Happiness Project
Swing Swagger Drape
A Hundred Daffodils

ii
You’re Wearing That?
The Audacity of Hope

iii
Plain and Simple:
If I Had My Life To Live Over
I Would Pick More Daisies
Off Camera

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NaPoWriMo Day 10: My suggested prompt was used for everyone today! Stack ’em up and write  Book Spine Poetry, hopefully from books on your book shelves.
My three poems include titles from: Gretchen Rubins’s The Happiness Project, Jane Slicer-Smith’s knitting pattern book Swing Swagger Drape, Jane Kenyon’s White Daffodils; You’re Wearing That? by Deborah Tannen and Barack Obama’s The Audacity of Hope; and the third one includes Sue Bender’s Plain and Simple, If I Had My Life to Live Over I Would Pick More Daisies edited by Sandra Haldeman Martz, and Ted Koppel’s Off Camera.  Happy Sunday!

Glass Jar World

lillian9 Comments

I am afloat
no eyes, no touch
in this senseless world.

This cadaver cavernous world
dreams dissipated, despair afloat
you see me, but do not touch.

Ignored. Here, not. Not for touch.
Gasping in your fragile world,
I am no one, simply afloat,

afloat, a glass shard, in your no-touch world.

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Tritina written for Day 7, NaPoWriMo. The Tritina: three, three line stanzas and a final concluding line. Three “end words” are used to conclude the lines of each stanza, in a set pattern of ABC, CAB, BCA and all three words must appear in the final line. Another poetry sudoku! Photo Credit: Pickled 2, 2009 by Antoine A. R. Hunt, Bermudian, 1967: in the Collection of the Bermuda National Gallery.