Author: lillian

A Different Thing

lillian7 Comments

I defined myself by you; by your dreams and your gigs. I was integral to the group at first, when we sang together. Then you pushed me to back-up; then to working lights, and I was your afterthought. You were addicted to applause, to groupies, to uppers. You finally snorted your way to becoming a has-been. You had it all and threw it away.

This year’s a different thing. I’ll not think of you burning out in small town bars. I’m born again. Not in the religious sense. I’ve regained my self-worth. I’m the one riding the waves now, literally. As a cruise ship entertainer, singing in the spotlight and seeing the world. Some nights I stare at the wake. Energy churned up behind the ship, disappearing into darkness. It reminds me that the you I miss every day, disappeared a long time ago.

Written for Prosery Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today Merril asks us to include the line “This year’s a different thing – I’ll not think of you again” from the poem I so liked spring by poet Charlotte Maw (1869 – 1928) in our piece of prose that is exactly 144 words long. Photo by Jakub Pabis on Unsplash

AN INVITATION TO ALL MY READERS!
I will host OLN LIVE at dVerse on both Thursday, February 16th, from 3 to 4 PM EST
and on Saturday, February 18th, from 10 to 11 AM EST.

WHAT IS OLN LIVE?  Open Link Night (OLN) is an opportunity to post any one poem of your choosing at dVerse, on Mr. Linky, as folks did for this Prosery prompt.There is no required form, length, or topic.

Open Link Night LIVE (OLN LIVE) involves the same process EXCEPT folks are invited to literally meet poets from around the globe by signing into a LIVE session, complete with video and audio. You can tune in to just watch and listen or you can read aloud one poem of your choosing. Just come to the dVerse home page on either Thursday February 16th or Saturday, February 18th (times mentioned above) and click on the provided link and – voila! – you’ll see us all LIVE!

Questioning . . .

lillian23 Comments

I lie on cool moist earth
waking dreams in outdoor’s chill.
Stars gleam through obsidian scrim,
slivered moon slices ebony sky.
Night’s breeze whispers, lullabies me.
Thoughts float to loved ones
from generations past.
Do they live now,
somewhere out there in the universe?

Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today De asks us to write a quadrille, a poem of exactly 44 words sans title, that includes the word “star” or a form of the word. Image from Pixabay.com

Nature Song, by Lindsey Ein

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‘Tis early dawn and all around
no bird song floated down the hill
O Nature! All thy seasons please the eye
ring out wild bells to the wild sky.
Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright
between dark and daylight
a fragment of a rainbow bright.

Fair daffodils we weep to see
the violet loves a sunny bank
they grow in beauty side by side
into the sunshine.
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods
there through the long, long summer hours
the melancholy days are come.

Where, where are all the birds that sang?
The warm sun is failing.
Freshly the cool breath of the coming eve
in the west the weary day
electric essence permeates the air.
Yet one smile more departing distant sun
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank.
There are moments in life that we never forget.

Written by Lindsey Ein and read aloud at OLN LIVE on Thursday, Sept. 19.

Every line of this poem is from a line in a poem by a poet. Here, line by line, are the poems and author:

Line 1: Flowers: Thomas Moses
Line 2: The River Path: Whittier
Line 3: The Seasons: Grahame
Line 4: Ring Out Wild Bells: Tennyson
Line 5: Vertue: George Herbert
Line 6: The Children’s Hour: Longfellow
Line 7: The Rainbow: J. Keble
Line 8: Daffodils: R. Herrick
Line 9: Proposal: Bayard Taylor
Line 10: The Graves of a Household: Mrs. Hemans
Line 11: The Rountain: James Russell Lowell
Line 12: Solitude: Byron
Line 13: June: Bryant
Line 14: The Death of Flowers: Brya
Line 15: A Hundred Years Ago: Anonymous
Line 16: Autumn: Shelley
Line 17: Healing of the Daughter of Jairus: Willis
Line 18: In Reverie: Harriet McEwen Kimball
Line 19: An Acrostic: F.A.
Line 20: November: Bryant
Line 21: From The Merchant of Venice: Shakespeare
Line 22: Remembrance: Percival

All of the above poems are from “Favorite Poems Illustrated”: 1880’s, given to my Aunt Josephine Brown in 1881.
Image from Pixabay.com

Streaming Thoughts on “Ice”

lillian15 Comments

Toddler’s rosy ice-cold cheeks.
Zooming, bumping down icy hills
on cafeteria-trays as sleds.
Crack-the-whip flying on ice skates.
Chocolate ganache, icing supreme,
marguerita on the rocks, please.
Icicle turrets on snow castles,
I scream for ice cream.
Smiling me,
at a list like this.

Written for Quadrille Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today Mish asks us to include the word “ice” or a form of the word, in our poem of exactly 44 words, sans title. Image by annca from Pixabay

Life’s Merry-Go-Round

lillian3 Comments

They lived a merry-go-round life
senses dulled by blurred vision.
Maniacal calliope music,
mired in manufactured grooves.

She rode the blue horse
its mane gilded in gold.
hands cold on metal pole,
forever spinning ahead.

He rode two steeds behind,
eyes wild with lust
chasing her round and round,
never gaining ground.

Desperately out of synch
his up to her down
so close, but always out of reach.
Gold ring dangling in neon lights
they rode on and on and on.


Rewritten from a poem I penned in 2016. Shared at dVerse OLN LIVE, the virtual pub for poets around the globe, today, Saturday January 21st.

Come join us LIVE from 10 to 11 AM EST, Saturday, January 21st. Read a poem of your choosing aloud, or just come to watch and listen. We’re a very friendly bunch! Click join us…you’ll find the link for Saturday’s LIVE session here!

Choices At My Age . . .

lillian25 Comments

. . . my to-do list is
much too mundane to do.
* Laundry
* PT exercises
* Vacuum
* Clean out drawers

So I sit, pen in hand
page patiently waiting to be filled,
inscribed with delectable words.
Words like bubblicious,
fantasia, pomegranate,
or perhaps persimmon.

Images dormant in my mind,
clamor to appear on the page.
Orange sherbet sun,
shapeshifter clouds.
Raucous carousel horses
racing round and round a blurred world.

Shall I take my pen in hand?
Or grasp that vacuum’s wand.
Consider the choice.
Attack cobwebs in corners of the house?
Nope. Not today.
Much more productive
to clear cobwebs from my brain!

Posted for Open Link Night LIVE at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe.

Come join us LIVE between 3 and 4 PM EST today, Thursday Jan 19th by clicking here……and then clicking on the link provided on the post. You’ll be connected to audio and video to meet folks across many time zones and countries. Come to read a poem of your choice OR just to listen!

We’ll also have OLN LIVE on Saturday January 21st from 10 to 11 AM EST. Click here and then click on the link provided for Saturday’s session. Hope to see many of you!

Crocus Me

lillian13 Comments

Born in May these many years ago,
amongst lily of the valley
and gaiety of tulips bright.

I am like the crocus
enjoying first rays of spring sun
in the midst of winter’s final stance.

Assertive, I push forward
first to appear,
even when slicked with chilling frost.

During coldest of times
I burrow in found comfort.
Your arms, ready to enfold me.

Like Mother Earth,
you are my home
in every season of the year.

Written for Tuesday Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today Sanaa asks us to “become the embodiment of winter. Tell us what you feel during this season.” Crocus Me is where my muse took me!

NOTE: HOPE you will join us this Thursday, Jan 19, from 3 to 4 PM EST for OLN LIVE . . . OR . . . for the first time, on Saturday, Jan 21, from 10 to 11 AM EST.

You’ll find two links on Thursday’s dVerse: one for Thursday and one for Saturday. Clicking on the link will bring you to a live session with audio and video! Come meet your fellow dVersers and either read one of your poems aloud or just come to listen! The more the merrier! We’re a very friendly bunch!

Hope Grows in Beneficence

lillian18 Comments

Violet was born after a spring storm. She emerged from between the rainbow’s green and blue arcs. I am a centenarian angel, called to witness her birth. I’d been handmaiden to Death through all my years, grief skewing my existence. I was granted this new assignment, my aging wish. To assist non-humans within a species immersed in flights of fancy and joy.

I nudged Violet’s tiny fairy wings, guiding her through the sun’s rays toward the Land of Beneficence. Here she would learn to interact with the young offspring of humans when she journeyed to their earth. To spark their imaginations before ideas of difference and negativity took root. The hope of humankind lies within Violet and all her pixie kin, born every time a rainbow appears. My task, your very livelihood, is within the rainbow. Everything I do is stitched with its color.

Written for Prosery Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe.

Today we are to include the line “Everything I do is stitched with its color” in a piece of flash fiction, composed of 144 words, sans title. The required line is from a poem written by William Stanley Merwin, 17th Poet Laureate of the United States.

Image from Pixabay.com