inspiration

Living in the Wrong Time

lillian15 Comments

She seeks answers in the landscape,
this early nineteenth century woman.

Firmly corseted, demure by training,
constrained by society’s expectations.
She pauses deliberately on crude dirt path,
having followed it through rolling hills
amidst surrounding trees.

Would that she could stretch her limbs,
bloom anew, sway in every fresh breeze.
Remain firmly rooted defying threatening storms.
But she is here. Painted in her times.
Resolutely she turns, walks off canvas,
slowly returns home.

How much joy she would have
if in this moment she could know,
her female counterparts
will change the world.


Written for Tuesday Poetics at dVerse, the virtual home for poets around the world. Today Melissa asks us to consider the artist Henri Rousseau and provides us with several of his works to motivate our poetry. I’ve chosen his painting, La Promenade dans la Foret (The Walk in the Forest) c 1886.

I Remind Myself . . .

lillian2 Comments

Goodness blooms this time of year.
Pushy crocus show off first
then tulips admire daffodil ruffles,
hyacinths invoke delicious inhales.
Trees begin to dress for the occasion.
Don magnolia flowers, cherry blossoms,
crab apple trees defy their name.
We shed coats, walk more sure-footed
on warming sidewalks and greening lawns.
Infants’ arms wave more freely,
cumbersome snowsuit padding gone.
Robins appear, geese begin to nest.
Mountains’ winter toppings melt,
cascade in waterfalls to brooks below.
Streams rush over rocks,
gurgling their spring symphony.
And I, I smile as I step outdoors
reveling in another year of life.

Plethora of Lightness

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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.

I Shall . . .

lillian1 Comment

. . . thrive in this topsy-turvey world.
I shall walk upside down, toes in the stars,
leaving diamond shaped footsteps in the sky.

When down is up and in is out,
I shall put my forearms in earth’s rich soil
wiggling my fingers like squiggling worms.

I will be a handstand acrobat
padding through sunflower fields,
pollen dusted elbows attracting bees.

When the sun sets,
I shall ride the moon
kicking stars into nova showers.

I shall hum joyfully in my out-of -tune way,
find greening in deserts, sunlight in shadows,
and I will always smile with hope.

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

November 7, 2024

lillian4 Comments

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


Do You Know Them?

lillian10 Comments

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.

Image of Kamala Harris painted by artist Jo Hay.

Pollyanna . . .

lillian14 Comments

. . . 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!

A Surreal Prose Poem

lillian12 Comments

Her iridescent spirit carries her through the golden dust swirls of the Orion nebula. Fourteen hundred light years away from earth, she awaits the right moment. She is the Unique One. A star whose heart pulses in time with the ebb and flow of ocean tides. She is composed of compassion and love. Once a nova who flashed too close to the moon, she witnessed the inhumanity of humanity. She must find her way through constellations and galaxies, to find one human creature she can claim. And in that claiming will come illumination. A flame. Kindling for a paradigm shift. The only hope for earth to survive.


Photo image from the telescope of John McKaveney: The Orion Nebula.

Written in response to NaPoWriMo, prompt for day three: to write a surreal prose poem.

Gazing at the Universe

lillian15 Comments

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.”

Landscape Resolved

lillian39 Comments

Recessed window’s wide ledge
holds spirits for drinker’s escape.
Time out desperately needed
from hatred, tyranny,
spewed vindictiveness,
misogyny, racism, and lies.
Broad brushstrokes have not,
cannot hide, underlying malevolence.

Clean canvass craved,
painted in meaningful hues.
Foundation layer of iridescent justice.
Calm cerulean waters
governed by tides of crimsoned love.
Emerald-kindness speckled shores of honesty.
Sun-flowered happiness rollicking
beneath cobalt cloudless skies.

Is there a bard to create this script?
A Dali, Miro, or Kahlo
to produce this surrealism?
Who among us
will ensure it becomes reality?
Human dignity bathed in light,
tinted with opalescent caring,
glowing in a patina of hope.


Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today I’m hosting Open Link Night where folks are invited to post any one poem of their choice, no form, rhyme scheme etc. required OR use Van Gogh’s painting, Studio Window, to motivate their creative juices.

AND you are invited to join us LIVE (with audio and video), on Saturday, March 16th from 10 to 11 AM New York time. Simply click here, and then click on the link you’ll find for dVerse LIVE. You’re invited to read a poem of your choosing, or simply come sit in and listen. Drop in for a few minutes or come and stay the hour. Although we’re an international group, all readings and conversations are in English. We’ve had folks from Sweden, the UK, Trinidad Tobago, Finland, Pakistan, the US, Kenya, Australia, and India. I do hope you’ll join us – the more the merrier!