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.
Julia’s delectable mousse au chocolat, my annual nod to France’s Noel.
Best qualité chocolat les oeufs: yolks and whites separated unsalted butter and deep dark espresso splash of citrusy Grand Marnier sugar only to slightly sweeten. Whisking, whisking, beating, beating, licking fingers, licking whisk. Final touch, the folding. Soft-peaked egg whites into sinful chocolate mixture. Airy deliciousness carefully spooned into grandmother’s crystal goblets. Gently placed on refrigerator shelf until its late night serving.
Christmas Eve dinner done. We sit quietly savoring this melt-in-your-mouth dessert. Julia’s delectable mousse au chocolat, our annual nod to France’s Noel.
Written for Tuesday Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today, Sanaa is pubtending and asks us to write a poem about food! And yes, I do make Julia’s Mousse au chocolat every Christmas! The page for the recipe in this book is well spattered and smeared with chocolate and has my notes all over it. It is truly delicious!!!
In the stillness I try to quiet my mind. In the stillness I strain to hear your voice, your wisdom, your insight.
In the stillness I am aware of everyday sounds, the clock ticking, the hour chiming, the redbird chirping.
A car passes, time passes, life passes.
Stillness please come and remove all other sounds and let me hear your voice to be my guide this day.
Written by dear friend, Lindsey Ein. I inserted her words in Bing Create and it generated the image. Lindsey will read her poem aloud today at dVerse LIVE.
Come join us at dVerse LIVE today, from 10 to 11 AM New York time. You’ll find the link to join HERE. There’s an audio and video feed and folks from across the US, Pakistan, Australia and the UK have already responded that they’ll be there. Come sit in to listen…..or come read a poem of your choosing. The more the merrier!
Fresh peonies, sir? For the lady in your life? Bouquet of crimson and gold tulips for your table, ma’am? She walks the market every morning, flower basket in hand .
Cotton sweater wards off cool breeze. Delicately notched white linen collar, embroidered in tiny stitches, frames her stoic sable face. Modest madras head scarf reveals pomegranate-red earrings hanging below her earlobes.
She approaches early shoppers, queries softly. Hides her anxiety. These beautiful blooms her livelihood.
Written for OLN at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. OLN is Open Link Night when writers can post any one poem of their choosing OR use the optional prompt given.
As host for OLN today, I’ve provided an optional ekphrastic prompt. An ekphrastic poem is one that is inspired by a piece of art so today, I’ve provided the painting, Black Woman with Peonies by French Impressionist painter, Frederic Bazille. Born in 1841, he created this beautiful painting in 1870, the last year of his life.
Consider this an INVITATION! I’m also hosting dVerse LIVE on Saturday, May 11th from 10 to 11 AM Boston time. Folks from across the globe participate as we meet with audio and video for an hour. Each attendee is welcome to read a poem of their choice OR they can simply come by to watch and listen. We’re a very friendly bunch! One of the last sessions I hosted had folks from across the US, Pakistan, the UK, Sweden, Kenya, Australia, Trinidad Tobago, India, and Finland! If you’d like to join us click on the link below on Saturday, May 11th – beginning at 10 AM.
. . . that’s not my name, but it could be. A Pollyanna is defined as one who is optimistic, always cheerful. Looking toward the sun, even in the rain. For me, a rainy day is a make-your-own-sunshine kind of day. In today’s divisive political climate, our world fraught with horrific wars, our earth struggling as humans threaten its survival, all the more important to remember the sun is always there. Even behind the darkest overcast skies. I call it hope.
Lisa is hosting Tuesday Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. She asks us to consider the words pilgrimage, walkabout, and wandering, providing a poem for each of the words. One option within her prompt is to “take a line from one of the poems and expand on it.” I’ve used the line “looking toward the sun, even in the rain” from the poem Walkabout by Caren Krutsinger.
AND, consider this an INVITATION to all who read my poem to join us at dVerse LIVE on Saturday, May 11th from 10 to 11 AM New York time. A link will be provided at the dVerse site on Thursday, May 9th that will take you to the LIVE site, with audio and visual. You’re welcome to join us just to sit in and watch and listen; and/or to read aloud a poem of your choice. Last time I hosted our LIVE session we had folks from the US, UK, Sweden, Kenya, Finland, Trinidad Tobago, India, Pakistan, Australia and Israel! All participation is in English. Hope you drop by!
Past their prime, over ripe apples hang in the balance. Juice oozes, fruit drops to the ground breaks open and fleshy mush spills. Bright sunshine illuminates spoilage as ants and maggots hover. I found a box, cleaned it out, and filled it anew.
Past their prime professors snore in ivory towers, deliver lectures heard years before. A ninety-year old senator stumbles, scheduled to serve until 2029. Justices can wear gowns until they die unlike ballerinas who ditch their tutus when the musculature gives out. I found a box, cleaned it out, and filled it anew.
So here’s some words to consider then. Timely picking does make good pies. No matter the paper put round the fish, they do eventually put up a stench. The crowd generally cheers louder when you leave the court at the top of your game. I found a box, cleaned it out, and filled it anew.
Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe.
Today we’re introduced to Bop Poetry created by Aafa Michael Weaver and asked to write a poem that follows the form below: Create a 23 line poem, in 3 stanzas. The stanzas must be ordered in this fashion: 1. a 6 line stanza that poses a problem 2. an 8 line stanza that expands the problem 3. a 6 line stanza that solves the problem AND, here is the tricky part, each of the stanzas must have one additional line that is the refrain (repeated) and it must be either “I found a box and put a room in it” OR we can add our own ending to “I found a box . . .”
FYI: Senator Chuck Grassley from Iowa is 90 years old and his term in the Senate does not expire until 2029. And, lest you think I am complaining about the age of President Biden: here in the U.S. we are faced with a choice between two men for President. One is 77 and the other is 81. So yes, I do wish there was new blood on both sides. However, these are the two men and one will become our next president. The difference between the two men could not be more stark. I fear for this country, for women, for my grandchildren, for the environment, for immigrants, for universities and schools if Donald Trump becomes president again.
Why doesn’t he show his birth certificate? The boy cried wolf over and over again.
Lance Armstrong, Tour aficionado, stripped of medals. Trump University. Defunct. $25 million settlement.
President Clinton: I did not have sexual relations with that woman. Karen and Stormy who? E. Jean Carroll – she’s not my type.
Heard on a playground on any given day: Liar, liar, pants on fire. As millions died of Covid he said, It’s totally under control.
Richard Nixon’s famous words: I am not a crook. The orange guy racks up ninety-one felony counts.
The Big Lie. We won. We won in a landslide. And Dorothy was sure she’d meet the all-powerful Oz.
Today, NaPoWriMo ends for 2024 but before we close that door ~ note the words of Samuel Arnold, written in 1797:
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. All the king’s horse and all the King’s men, couldn’t put Humpty together again.
Let it be so.
Final prompt for NaPoWriMo 2024. Apologies to my readers who do not like politically bent posts.
The prompt for today is to “write a poem in which the speaker is identified with, or compared to, a character from myth or legend.”
Each stanza compares Mr. Trump to a person, character, or well-known story or rhyme. For example, the first stanza compares his stoking of the birther conspiracy regarding President Obama to Aesop’s Fable, The Boy Who Cried Wolf.
Quick-minded youth leap to decisions, days assumed to blaze in glory. Bright eyes focus on the glossy blind to consequential reality.
Those with blue veined maps on their hands contemplate the world as a Pensieve. Luminescent vapors teem with incandescent memories, decisions weighed accordingly.
Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe where today Mish asks us to create a quadrille (poem of exactly 44 words sans title) that includes the word blaze.
Also written for NaPoWriMo Day 29 where the prompt is explained in this way: “If you’ve been paying attention to pop-music news over the past couple of weeks, you may know that Taylor Swift has released a new double album titled “The Tortured Poets Department.” In recognition of this occasion, Merriam-Webster put together a list of ten words from Taylor Swift songs. We hope you don’t find this too torturous yourself, but we’d like to challenge you to select one these words, and write a poem that uses the word as its title.” One of the words in the list is incandescent.
The future is beginning now. When I arrive, I am what was missing before.
Tomorrow always becomes a yesterday. My past was once unknown to me.
Time is after all, a glutton. Best to concentrate on the moment, every time it comes.
Written for NaPoWriMo day 24.
The prompt is to “write a poem that begins with a line from another poem (not necessarily the first one), but then goes elsewhere with it.” “The future is beginning now” is from Mark Strand’s poem, The Babies, published in his Collected Poemspublished by Alfred A. Knopf in 2015. He is a former Poet Laureate of the United States and a Pulitzer Prize winner. Image is from Pixabay.com
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 