the stuff of love
fear
anger
joy
power of the mind
script of the pen
stuff of relationshipships.
Use them wisely.

Photo from Pixabay.com
the stuff of love
fear
anger
joy
power of the mind
script of the pen
stuff of relationshipships.
Use them wisely.

Photo from Pixabay.com
Ear worm.
1-877-Kars-for-Kids.
Tickling incessant tune.
Words over-and-over-
and over-and-over.
Go in and out the windows . . .
1-877-Kars-for-Kids.
Shut off the radio.
Cadence that kicks
rhyme that sticks.
Like ear muffs close exits
on cold winter days.
1-877-Kars-for-Kids.
I don’t even own a car
but it’s driving
through my ear canal.
Drive it to Panama instead,
out through those locks.
Out of my ear drums.
Quit base thumping,
1-877-Kars-for-
oh just snare it!
R-E-S-P-E-C-T
Where are you, Aretha?
Lift the needle,
Just put on the B side,
PLEASE!
Click on the video and listen to it for a bit. I dare you. Beware the ear worm!
Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets where today Linda asks us to explore surrealism in poetry. She tells us surrealism in poetry is “the true function of thought. Thought dictated in the absence of all control exerted by reason, and outside all aesthetic or moral preoccupations.” To me, this sounds a lot like stream-of-consciousnes writing….which is what’s happening in this poem. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us!
naked tree’s lone leaf
shiver-blows in winter wind –
stubbornness defined

The Ancient One’s book
answered the question
deep within her mind.
You may choose the stars,
shine from the cosmos.
Lighten the canopy of darkness
as do many other souls.
Reflect bright wisdom,
comfort and awe,
to those who remain behind
waiting to grasp the Truth.
Or choose the dawn.
Join that orb of hope, 
those rays of warmth.
Become one of many filaments
that spark awareness,
knowledge for those who wait.
The realization,
each day lived is a gift
The choice is yours.
Even in death
there is more than one path
to the everlasting Wonder.
Today I host Open Link Night at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. This means folks can post one poem of their choosing, with no required prompt, form, or topic. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time – come join us!
Star photo from Pixabay.com
Dawn photo taken in Provincetown this past summer.
2001
We hiked across lava fields
steam rising in the distance.
Kilahuea, birthing new shoreline,
slowly spilling into the sea.
Lagoon House was our delight
on beautiful Kapoho Beach.
Delerious with plumeria’s scent,
we swam wth sea turtles oh so close,
in nearby Champagne Pond.
2018
No longer content with shoreline,
Kilahuea’s temper rose.
Eruptions spewed farther, fiercer,
gave birth to graveyards deep.
Solidified lava, fifty-feet thick,
buried that beloved place.
Homes gone. Plumeria gone.
Pele, Kapoho’s sole resident,
silent in her new abode.
Photos from our stay at the Lagoon House in 2001. That’s me floating/snorkeling in Champagne pond, just beyond the house. We really did swim with the sea turtles there. And we took our children and their spouses on a lava walk tour — obviously Kilahuea was very tame then – although it was HOT and hissing and the hardened lava was very sharp.
Kilahuea’s angry eruption in 2018 and the result today. The beautiful home we stayed in, and that entire area, is now covered by fifty-feet of lava. The last photo is a rendering of Pele, the goddess of volcanoes.
Thank you Amaya for our dVerse Tuesday Poetics prompt — to address “birthing” in some way.
Embrace the darkness, my dear,
keep hold my hand.
Listen to the quiet.
Many have come before you,
many shall follow.
Breathe slowly, slower still,
until your body dissipates.
Darkness will become light
as we soar into the cosmos
feeling peace among the stars.

Written for dVerse, for both Monday’s quadrille (poem of exactly 44 words, sans title) which required the word “keep” and today’s Poetics which asks us to write in someway about black/darkness. Photo from pixabay.com
Parents, she thought, learned to survive touching their children less and less.
From Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng
These were precious moments ~
holding you upon my shoulder
napping with you upon my chest
holding you to my breast
lifting you back up to walk again
reading together, you sitting on my lap
skipping lessons, hand in hand
sharing hugs on grade school days
combing hair and straightening shirt
and wiping tears as you tumbled.
Now you have growing children
and as their independence grows,
touching them is lessening too for you.
But between you and me
at this stage in our lives,
hello and goodbye hugs
seemingly last a bit longer.
Perhaps because we know
time passing, means less time left
and we treasure more
these moments of staying in touch.

I rise to a new day not yet dawned,
leaving you to your dreams.
Pad quietly in shadows,
light candle and just sit.
Memories flicker
before mind moves into now.
In the last filaments of darkness
I understand again.
You are the constant in my life,
you light my way.
Shadowed moon flickers
on windblown cornstalk stubble.
Red fox stalks its prey,
hunting through snow covered field.
Hunter in wool cap takes aim.

Frank hosts dVerse tonight, the virtual pub for poets. We are to consider the polytoton: rhetorical repetition of words within a poem, but each time used in a different way (cornstalk and stalks; hunting and hunter).
I’ve used the Tanka form: 5 line poem with 5, 7, 5, 7, and 7 syllables.
Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us! Image from Pixabay.com
The grove hides its secrets well,
cowering behind the decrepit shed.
That rotting wood that stands askew,
door long felled, splintered, near gone.
As if to escape, to ignore and deny
those happenings long long ago.
They argued under darkening sky.
Stars glimmered fearfully
as stealthy clouds crept in.
Temperaments turned tempestuous
till fury exploded in death,
and thunder roared its anger at their folly.
Found next day in storm soaked grove,
blood spewed over fallen fruit
mixed with rotted apples’ smell.
Their deaths desecrated this century farm,
marking 1957 as its demise
when lovers met, quarreled and died.
Grove turned fallow years thereafter,
apple trees neglected, tendered not.
That vile act didst poison roots,
stunt growth, until gnarly limbs
abandoned since that fateful night,
crouched low, berating fouled earth.
Each spring since, forgetting not,
winds gust disapproval.
Rend blossoms, so few to bloom.
Pockmarked fruit then drops to earth
as bees from nowhere find their way,
steal succor from this grove’s sad plight.
Autumn strips meager tattered cover.
Blighted fruit and curdling leaves
gladly shed by grieving trees.
With naked desire, they lust for snow.
That white soft silent blanket
to comfort limbs; cover blood stained earth.
Winter offers unconditional anonymity.
Memories of past sins cast upon this grove
retreat from souls of trees.
No fruit. No activity. No remembering.
Simply slumber, hibernation stupor.
Sweet serenity, adrift at last.

Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, where today Laura asks us to consider rhetorical questions. She then provides six unique questions, asking us to choose one for the topic of our poem. I chose Why did the grove undress itself, only to wait for the snow? Image by cocoparisienne at pixabay.com