There is a beauty in the withering . . .
as if through sheer will power
life endures in fragility.
Color long faded
veins protruding
curling inward . . .
Death shall not win
until snow blankets the earth
to comfort its fall.
Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, where today Mish is hosting and asks us to write a poem in which we find beauty in the ugly. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us!
i. Hovering
That night . . .
my body turned against me
you praying, willing me to live.
My last breath
words unheard by you.
I am still here.
I hover
in rays of sun
in soft mist beneath grey clouds
in star lit and blackened nights.
My essence ever walks with you.
Savor life, my dearest.
I am content, waiting patiently.
ii. In Absentia
That night . . .
your breath rattled
eyes closed,
never to open again.
Days later
we celebrated your life
even as emptiness suffocated me.
I redecorated yesterday
all mirrors removed.
My reflection without you
too painful, too alone,
reminder of you
in absentia.
I’m hosting Tuesday Poetics at dVerse today, the virtual pub for poets, asking folks to write a poem that somehow deals with opposites or uses the literary device of antithesis. One can include simple words in opposition happy/sad, inside/outside; or describe one event from two opposite viewpoints. The opposition can happen in one poem; different stanzas; or even two short poems. Folks are free to be creative….as long as they deal with opposites! For a different take on the prompt, a satirical one, go to my second post, Mishmash Succotash. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time….come join us and write in opposites or just read along!
Raw winds blow. Rusted lock bars entrance to dark, dank family crypt. Souls long forgotten. Generations ceased their lineage, lost in the dust of time. Undisturbed cobwebs ensnare no prey. Nothing lives here.
Steps away, a young mother’s tears salt the ground below open-toed shoes. Her gaze locks on the small white coffin. Follows it lower, lower, and lower still, until its sides are nestled by mother earth. Stunned mourners file by, gently releasing miniature white roses into fresh dug grave. Wind shifts. Breeze rifles through nearby trees. Magnolia blossoms, rift from spring green leaves, rain quietly on forlorn scene.
Rest little one, love shall follow you. Mother, father, sisters too. All will come in time. And more. And more. Until the dust of time consumes them all.
Used for Napowrimo day 28 where the prompt was to write prose poetry. Photo taken several months ago at the cemetery in Valparaiso, Chile. Shared with dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, on Thursday, May 3rds OLN.
family
mom, dad, son
me, last born
they waited nine years for me
now they wait again
mist hovers
floats above their graves
hushes sounds
muffles grief
head bowed, I know they miss me
I whisper, not yet
A shadorma written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. Amaya is our host today and explains that a shadorma is a syllabic poem consisting of six-line stanzas, each stanza defined in lines of 3-5-3-3-7-5 syllables. She asks us to be motivated by the title of the form and perhaps write about “fog, the paranormal, or the unexplained phenomena of death and life. ” I’ve also posted a second shadorma, Bermuda Beautiful. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us!
Spirits beneath the blue
assuaged by filtered sun
and undulating sea grass.
Marauding masked visitors
disturb your sleep,
seek riches beyond the pale.
Wherein lies the treasure?
Corroded trinkets, ancient coins
or peace for lost immortal souls.
Delighted to host Tuesday Poetics today at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets. Many folks across the globe celebrate holidays during the month of November and December and with that comes visitors to our homes and, perhaps, travel for us. Today, I’m asking folks to write a poem that includes the word “visit” or a form of the word. Photo is from last February’s visit to Bermuda. There are more than 300 sunken ships around the coast of Bermuda – a haven for adventurous divers. Pub opens at 3 PM Boston time — come join us!
I stand
feet solid upon this earth.
What then
when ashes float
upon ocean’s tide?
What of my spirit
my energy
my soul,
clamoring for release
from embers’ dust?
Shall my essence
melt amongst the stars?
Dissolve into tincture of dawn?
Swirl within some galaxy
unknown to earthly man?
Mingle through generations,
welcome those yet to come?
Somewhere beyond this realm,
somewhere
out there beyond?
Perhaps this earthen home
is but a way station
weighed down by skin and bone,
awaiting release into a dominion
of absolute timelessness.
An otherworldly universe,
glimpsed only by the dreamers,
those who peer
beyond this spatial dwelling place.
Photo Credit: ESA/Hubble; European Space Agency, NASA, and J. Hester (Arizona State University)
Posted for dVerse where I’m delighted to host Tuesday Poetics, asking everyone to look up! Write a poem inspired by one of four photos, taken and released by the Hubble telescope, included in the prompt. Jump into the photo, imagine its world; write about space or not. Simply be inspired by the image and see where it takes you!
dVerse, the virtual pub for poets, opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us!
NOTE: I emailed the Hubble site from which the four available images come. Permission was given for this prompt, providing each poet includes the exact photo credit as listed on the site and thus copied to my prompt.
Cue dream journey.
Breeze flickers, curls, skips, dances.
Creaking ghosts kick clouds,
grin, giggle, twist, shimmer.
Whispered sounds spring free,
echo, bubble, balloon.
Still lull spills open,
sparks storm, jars bliss.
Drizzled rose-red blood-shadows
pepper dawn, scar green leaves.
Fear spices breath.
Hope melts.
De hosts dVerse today. We must include the word “kick” in a Quadrille: poem of exactly 44 words, sans title. Quadrille Mondays occur every other week. Each quadrille series includes 44 Mondays: a different prompt each Monday. We need only include that week’s prompt in our poem. WE ARE NOW AT THE END OF THIS SERIES, MONDAY #44! This post includes all 44 words given in the series thus far: kick, creak, hope, spice, free, bliss, dream, fear, flicker, pepper, dance, bubble, grin, lull, melt, shimmer, twist, skip, green, breeze, spill, rose, journey, jar, leaves, open, shadow, cloud, spark, cue, breath, scar, curl, whisper, dawn, ghost, giggle, drizzle, still, echo, sound, storm, spring, and balloon. ‘Tis the final act of the Film Noir series. Bar opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us!
Blissful dream deteriorates.
Breeze flickers, curls, skips, dances.
Spice jar creaks, spills open.
Greenish ghosts spring free,
grinning, shimmering, twisting.
Breathless whisper sounds echo.
Clouds balloon, bubble, spark storm.
Drizzled rose-red blood-shadows
pepper dawn. Hope melts.
Journeyman giggling fearfully,
leaves scarred.
Cue still lull.
Grace hosts dVerse today. We must include the word “creak” in a Quadrille: poem of exactly 44 words, sans title. Quadrille Mondays occur every other week. Each quadrille series includes 44 Mondays: a different prompt each time. We need only include that week’s prompt in our poem. This post includes all 43 words given in the series thus far: creak, hope, spice, free, bliss, dream, fear, flicker, pepper, dance, bubble, grin, lull, melt, shimmer, twist, skip, green, breeze, spill, rose, journey, jar, leaves, open, shadow, cloud, spark, cue, breath, scar, curl, whisper, dawn, ghost, giggle, drizzle, still, echo, sound, storm, spring, and balloon. Bar opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us!
Breeze flickers,
leaves curl, skip, dance.
Spice jar spills open,
peppers dream.
Freed ghosts shimmer, twist, whisper.
Breathless sounds echo.
Clouds balloon, bubble, spark storm,
drizzle rose-red blood-shadows
scarring green spring grass.
Journeyman grins, giggles.
Fear dawns.
Bliss melts.
Hope dies.
Cue still lull.
De hosts dVerse today. We must include the word “hope” in a Quadrille: poem of exactly 44 words, sans title. Quadrille Mondays occur every other week. Each quadrille series includes 44 Mondays: a different prompt each time. We need only include that week’s prompt in our poem. This post includes all 42 words given in the series thus far: hope, spice, free, bliss, dream, fear, flicker, pepper, dance, bubble, grin, lull, melt, shimmer, twist, skip, green, breeze, spill, rose, journey, jar, leaves, open, shadow, cloud, spark, cue, breath, scar, curl, whisper, dawn, ghost, giggle, drizzle, still, echo, sound, storm, spring, and balloon. Bar opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us!
Ghosts invade sugar-‘n-spice blissful dream,
grin, shimmer, twist, skip, dance freely.
Whispers spark sounds, jars echo.
Breeze flickers.
Clouds pepper sky,
curl, balloon, bubble open.
Dawn melts, spills rose-red.
Storm drizzles blood-shadows,
scars green spring grass.
Journeyman giggles fearfully,
leaves breathless.
Cue still lull.
Mish hosts dVerse today. We must include the word “spice,” or a form of the word, in a Quadrille (poem of exactly 44 words, sans title). Quadrille Mondays occur every other week, for a total of 44 times, each with a different word prompt. We need only include that week’s word prompt in our poem. This post includes all 41 words given thus far: spice, free, bliss, dream, fear, flicker, pepper, dance, bubble, grin, lull, melt, shimmer, twist, skip, green, breeze, spill, rose, journey, jar, leaves, open, shadow, cloud, spark, cue, breath, scar, curl, whisper, dawn, ghost, giggle, drizzle, still, echo, sound, storm, spring, and balloon. Bar opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join us!
lillian the home poet 