Sun shimmers through forest’s canopy. Moon cuts path across ocean’s abyss. Infant’s mouth opens to circle small, pink tongue slides in and out and in again.
Girl grins, pumping swing as pigtails fly. Puddles appear inviting all to splash. Child’s momentary shock as bat hits ball, then small feet fly to first.
Thick carpet of pristine snow invites children of all ages to lie down, swooping arms. Create guardian angels among us.
Folks sway in jazz club, hear saxophones mellow out. Watch nimble fingers create piano riffs, brushes rhythmically swish on snares.
In the midst of ever present news, cacophonies of catastrophes. Find space to feel lightness, safe harbors for hope.
Words spilled on a page, sentenced to death. Alphabet stews bleeding false truths.
Democracy verbified. Present tense slanted to the future, diagrammatical correction needed
Guide to collective nouns. Bloat: hippopotamuses Murder: crows Bed: sloths Shiver: sharks Scourge: mosquitoes And
Petrified: today’s Republican Congress. Sound muted. Cacophony of silence. This is the saddest story I have ever heard.
Written for Tuesday Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today Punam provides us with a number of opening lines from various books and writings. We are to take one of the opening lines provided, and make it the closing line of our poem. We must use the line as is..no addition or subtraction of words. The line I’ve chosen to use is “This is the saddest story I have ever heard,” from The Good Soldier by Ford Madox Ford. Image by John from Pixabay
Abracadabra because I want a magician’s wand to change what was into what was not and what could be. Defy divisiveness, effects of hatred, and speaking of the “us” versus the “other”. Forge ahead to find new paths. Gather those who want positive change. Hand in hand with hope, honesty and just intentions, may we begin to just listen. Truly listen knowing we are all located within the same sea of humanity. Listen and listen more. Open our ears and hearts. Make a concerted effort, not numbing the pain of others into oblivion. Prayer is not enough. In the quest for healing, we must reflect on what could be and make it so. It may seem tenuous until we verbally and actively validate the worth of all God’s people. Xenophobia is not an option. You and I, if we’re honest, also have roots in other places. Zest and good will toward all humanity: may it be our Resolution for 2026.
Written for Meet The Bar night at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. We’re asked to become Abecarians: Create a poem of 26 lines where each line begins with a letter of the alphabet and the letters are sequential. I’ve written from A to Z. Not the first letter of the first word in each line. Image from Pixabay.com
People are different. Color, ethnicity, gender, religious beliefs, language, citizenship, culture.
Gather them all in one place, in concentric circles facing each other, holding hands. Each circle defined by a trait.
Note: circles have no beginning or end. He who joined first disappears. She who joined last disappears. All are integral to their circle.
Herein lies a truth of geometric principle. Concentric circles differ in radii but have the same center point. And what is that same center point?
As Maya Angelou famously wrote, “We are more alike, my friends, than we are unalike.” The center point is our humanity.
Sadly however, truth is not constructed reality when the builder is a demolitionist.
Written for Tuesday Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets across the globe. Today I am hosting: go to https://dversepoets.com to see the prompt this poem is motivated by.
You are my sunrise as are friends, family, birthdays, holiday celebrations, graduation festivities hot fragrant coffee smiles from passersby crescendos in concertos hugs and kisses toddlers stomping in puddles charitable donations springtime flowers random acts of kindness. Sunshine, a constant, even behind the clouds.
Written for Quadrille Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. I’m tending the pub and asking folks to include the word “sunrise” in their poem of exactly 44 words, sans title.
In all the chaos across our world, the sun still rises every day, even when it resides behind the darkest of clouds. For me, that is representative of hope – the idea that love and goodness are always present – even in the stormiest of times. Sunrise photo taken in Provincetown, MA – at the very tip of Cape Cod.
Hell is empty and all the devils are here. There is a man among us who struts and frets his hour upon the stage, leading others who listen blindly. His words, a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing that is truth.
What is past is prologue. Poets shouldst therefore heed the Bard, his timeless words meaningful yet today. There have been many great men that have flattered the people who ne’er loved them. But how is one to label this man as great? Perhaps in the way of Satan’s greatness controlling some, luring others. After all, the devil can cite Scripture for his purpose. Oh what men will dare to do! Let no such man be trusted.
What of those who follow, whose integrity be lost? Lawless are they that make their wills their law. There’s small choice in rotten apples.
In these chaotic times, what is our fate, my friends? It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves. For each of us can add to the light, hold our candle high in windows across the land. One will become many, and many become a multitude. In light’s refraction, his rabid followers stagger. They shall greet fear in their mirror. Positions no longer secure as multitudes greet them shouting “SHAME”. Truthtellers stand in solidarity, voices raised, we cannot be ignored. THIS IS WHAT DEMOCRACY LOOKS LIKE!
The Bard penned: And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot; And thereby hangs a tale. Loud enough, persistent enough, we must be the solution. Hands that right the scales of Justice. We must take control of the tale. Destiny be in our hands.
Written for Tuesday Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today Merril hosts and asks us to consider fate. She suggests we could, for example, consider Frost’s or Shakespeare’s words on fate. I’ve chosen to refer to the Bard himself, within my poem. All of the bolded lines are quotations from Shakespeare. Let the Bard speak to you in these chaotic times!
All images except the scales of Justice are from recent demonstrations I’ve participated in. The scales of Justice image is from Pixabay.com
A new day, sun shining spreads its warmth. Rays of hope still glisten on foam capped waves. Steady tide still rhythmically constant beneath visible turbulent churning.
Autumnal brilliance shed. Trees bared to skeletal frames understand new seasons will arrive. Therefore, I choose to model hope, love and civility. Our next generations need us to believe.
Written on this day, after the 2024 election. Image from Pixabay.com
String of Black Pearls. Ida B. Wells, Daisy Bates Maya Angelou, Amanda Gorman Toni Morrison, Lorraine Hansberry Rosa Parks, Angela Davis Shirley Chisholm, Barbara Jordan Misty Copeland, Aretha, Ella, Etta, Billie, Viola Davis Oprah, Simone Biles Jessica Watkins Dr. Kizzmekia Corbet and Kamala Harris
Written for Quadrille Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today, Lisa asks us to include the word “string” or a form of the word (not a synonym) in our poem of exactly 44 words, sans title.
Look upward with me, magnify the solar system. Marvel at what is light years away.
Now stand in still of night, look up with naked eye. Millions of tiny shining lights, star specks in ebony sky.
No matter our egos, we are simply small creatures alive for a millisecond of time.
All the more reason to be humbled by the universe, to live and love, thankful for every day.
Posting to dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe, and noting it is day 2 of NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Writing Month.
I’m hosting Tuesday Poetics, introducing folks to John McKaveney. John is a friend from San Diego who has an undergraduate degree in Astronomy and Astrophysics, is a lawyer, and has an amazing telescope! For today’s prompt, I’ve provided four of John’s amazing photos and asked folks to use at least one as inspiration for their poem today. See information below, about the photo I’ve used here.
Photo by John McKaveney. The Orion Nebula: “This is an active star forming region about 1400 light years away, of condensing gas and dust, illuminated by newly forming stars. Our solar system formed in a region much like this about 5 billion years ago. The photons that were observed when this picture was taken, left the nebula in 624 AD. At that time, Mohamed had just won the Battle of Badr, in Saudi Arabia, the classical period in Europe was ending and the middle ages beginning, the Mayas were just beginning to build their largest pyramids, and Europeans had not yet set foot in North America. Throughout this entire time, those photons of light were traveling through space to be captured to form this photograph, where their journey finally ended.”
lillian the home poet 