dVerse

A Lesson in French

lillian18 Comments

She did WHAT????
That’s gasporrific!
With the gardener?

On the curb,
outside the pub????
When was that?

Did he know?
Rumors.
Gossip.

The honey
on bland porridge.
But beware.

Gaspalicious can turn into
stabinthebackmeanness
far too quickly.

Sometimes,
it’s best to
fermer la bouche!

Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. De asks us to include the word “gasp” or a form of the word in our quadrille, a poem of exactly 44 words sans title. I had a bit of fun with the word. Image by Sam Williams from Pixabay

At 76 years of age, the phrase, “fermer la bouche” is one of the few phrases/words I remember from my three years of high school French. It means “shut-up” or more politely, “close your mouth”. Other phrases I can still say in French are
Where is the library?
Please pass the butter.
My name is Lillian.
and
Rudolph the red nosed reindeer, had a very shiny nose.
Hmmmm…..don’t think I should depend on my French if we travel to Paris!

Haiku for Glenn

lillian43 Comments

You’re skywriting now,
in stardust and bright moonbeams.
Still, we’ll miss you here.

Glenn Buttkus. Jun 14, 1944 – February 17, 2023.

Born in Seattle, Washington in 1944, he was a movie buff and an amateur thespian through high school, community theater, and college productions. He was accepted into the U of W’s BFA Professional Actor’s Training Program in 1970, then in its third year of existence. He worked in Regional Theatre in the Northwest for a few years, and then relocated to Los Angeles. In 1977, he took a job at an agency for the blind that was located near Hollywood, and he found a new love: special education. He returned to college, getting his MA in Education and worked with blind people for thirty years. (from m.imdb.com)

Glenn was a frequent contributor to dVerse and other online venues. His was a powerful voice at our OLN LIVE sessions. He is already missed.

Image clipped from his last appearance at OLN LIVE.

A Sorry Tale

lillian19 Comments

Occasionally,
I think back to those times.
Friendship spoiled like aged milk.
Curdled putrid,
far beyond its best-used-by date.

I was impressed at first,
by your confidence, laughter,
your louder-than-life self.
We became best friends,
roommates two years in school.

Slowly I realized
you craved attention.
Demanded the spotlight.
Used people
to make yourself the star.

Life’s circumstances
sent us to different cities.
We married, had children,
successful careers. And then,
we were thrown together again.

You relocated to where we were.
Kids in the same school, same grades,
same interests. Old times linked us
in others’ minds,
at church and kids’ events.

But you lived in the Heights,
we lived in the Flats.
You paraded that, flaunted it.
I was okay with that,
merely irritated.

Your husband
exhausted by your demands,
your goal to shine,
became more than irritated.
Driven to depression and anger,
he fled to the arms of another.

So you, ever the diva, consumed by ego,
picked up a knife, stabbed him.
Just once.
He gave you the spotlight.
He died.

On parole, you called me.
Went on and on
about his indiscretion.
Claimed it was self-defense.
Practiced your defense on me.

I hung up that day. Done.
You went to prison.
I went on living,
loving my husband, my family,
and our life.

Just shows you I supppose,
some friendships
were never meant to be.

Written for dVerse where today we’re asked to a) write about friendship and b) begin our poem with the first line of another poet’s poem posted on dVerse. My first line, “Occasionally” is from Christine Bolton’s Senryu. Image by OpenClipart-Vectors from Pixabay

In the Voice of Amy Lowell

lillian18 Comments

Wind whipped branches stir my soul
caught in illumined path shed by moon.
Sunken alone, I battle with desire.

A single note of the lime tree sings,
rippled with ripeness, love’s nectar flows.
I shake my head on the crowded quay.

Thou willst convnce this dear virgin
through thine copious tears,
to publicly proclaim our love and joy.

Written for Thursday’s MTB at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe.

Today Bjorn asks us to use AI in the creation of a poem. PLEASE do real below to see how my poem was written, using Artifical Intelligence!

It used to be, teachers worried about students plagiarizing by copying materials from a library; then from materials gathered by Google; and now, enter AI platforms that produce entire papers/essays/poems.

I used this AI site in writing my post today: https://sites.research.google/versebyverse/

How this AI site works or how I think it works and how I used it!
1) You select 1 to 3 poets from a list they provide. They will be your muse. I chose only one: Amy Lowell.
2) You write your original first line to begin your poem, and enter it on the site. I wrote “Wind whipped branches stir my soul.”
3) You click on the blank line provided (called Verse 1) and the site generates about six lines in the style of the poet(s) you chose.
4) You can use one or some of these lines; or click refresh and you get another list of lines. You continue doing this until you’ve chosen enough lines for the length of poem you want and then click Poem Complete.
5) The site then gives you the poem “you’ve written” – your first original line followed by lines the site provided, in the style of the poet(s) you chose.
6) The site provides a lovely image of “your” formatted poem.
7) At the bottom it says “Composed by User. Inspired by Amy Lowell. Composed in Verse by Verse.”

Here is the “poem” with my first line, the AI site Verse by Verse “wrote” for me. (I refreshed a number of times to get these individual lines).

Wind whipped branches stir my soul
Caught from a slide while the moon shed,
Sunken alone her battle with its desire,
A single note of the lime tree sing,
Streak with ripeness, with the fruit
She shook her head, and on the crowded quay
Could force this Dear Virgin through thee tears.
Clotilde had been with love and joy.

Now you can look back at the poem I posted above and see the edits I made from the AI version.

NOTE: Amy Lowel (1874 – 1925) was an early champion of free verse. According to Wikipedia “Lowell was said to be lesbian, and in 1912 she and actress Ada Dwyer Russell were reputed to be lovers. Russell is reputed to be the subject of Lowell’s more erotic works, most notably the love poems contained in ‘Two Speak Together’, a subsection of Pictures of the Floating World.” Image is Amy Lowell.

Sliver of Silver by Lindsey Ein

lillian14 Comments

Moon is a sliver of silver;
stars sparkle, shimmering
steel in space;
silky cirrus clouds
slither across silent sky
searching span for sanctuary.

Solitary soul seeks solace;
a shield from shadows of secrets
searing his serenity.
Scanning skyward, he senses sanctuary in
sacrament of silence, a sliver of silver shining still.

Written by Lindsey Ein and read aloud today at OLN LIVE, at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe.
Image from Pixabay.com

Path to Serenity

lillian31 Comments

We walk quietly through hushed forest.
Tree tops shimmer-emerald in bright sun.
Shaded lower branches,
more soft-hued green.

Leaves wave in gentle wind.
Sunray flickers through foliage,
forms mosaic patterns upon our faces,
upon our soft smiles.

We slowly walk deeper into calm.
Birch trees, conifers, cypress,
scent of damp pines.
Ancient sentinels of passing time.

Powerful strength towers above
as delicate ferns and wildflowers
thrive in earth beside our feet.
We revel in balance before our eyes.

In the midst of raw beauty, we embrace.
Feel strength course through our beings.
We will be back again and again,
witness to the healing of this place.

Dedicated to Rob and Kathy. Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe.

Today, from 3 to 4 PM EST, poets from around the globe will meet LIVE, wth video and audio, to read aloud one poem of their choice, to visit with each other and lend their support to the creative endeavors of all. Come join us HERE and then click on the link provided for Thursday’s live session!

Can’t join us on Thursday?

We’ll meet again LIVE on Saturday, from 10 to 11 AM EST. Join us HERE and then click on the link provided for Saturday’s gathering!

Photo from Pixabay.com

With Apologies to Elizabeth Barrett Browning

lillian40 Comments

“How do I love thee?
Let me count the ways.”

Valentine’s Day,
definitely the time
to answer that query.

One, two, three, four . . .
forty-seven, forty-eight,
fifty-three wedded years.

Seven dogs we called our friends,
two children, nurtured and loved,
five wonderful grands.

Strolling Singapore’s orchid gardens,
admiring Japan’s cherry blossoms,
walking atop the Great Wall.

Meandering beside Lake Michigan’s shores,
through London’s fog, Alaska’s snow,
Bryce’s hoodoos, Yosemite’s trails.

From Iowa to Sweden to Australia too.
Easiest answer to that question?
So many ways over so many years.

Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today, on Valentine’s Day, Sanaa is hosting and asks us to write “plainly” about love.

Photos top row, left to right: summer 1974, pregnant with Abbey, our first child; at the Great Wall outside of Beijing; in Japan enjoying the cherry blossoms. Bottom row: in an underground cave in Bermuda about 8 years ago; and finally, us here in San Diego just seven days ago, February 7th, celebrating our 53rd anniversary! Thankful for every day.

“How do I love thee? Let me count the ways” — from Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Sonnet 43.

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