Friday, April 18, 2014

Meeting the Bar—Self Portraits


I have been my own worst
enemy in life but also
the soul
who saved me.

I have not looked at myself
enough to know,
or care,
what I truly look like.

I am beginning
to look inwardly and so
I see
my eyes for the first time.

I see myself through
the eyes of the pets
I love
and who have loved me.

My pet peeves are these:
dogmatism, jingoism,
fundamentalism, consumerism,

I love trees, the ocean,
all animals, quite
a few
people, literature, music, silence.

I value authenticity, simplicity,
honesty, dexterity,
jocundity, virtuosity, equanimity.

I am grateful for sunny
days, rainy nights,
one tiny bud,
a field of flowers, and love.

Love and beauty
always wanted to guide me--
I did not
pay enough attention when young.

Love and beauty
call to me still and now
I listen
to them more and more and more.

Written for MeetingTheBar—Self Portraits, at dVerse Poets Pub, hosted this week by Brian Miller. Brian challenged us to "write a self portrait poem. It can be symbolic, metaphorical, descriptive—you get to choose what you show and what you veil." Not an easy prompt!


Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Mag 215 — The King of Cats

He is mine as sure as words
give pause to sweet sighs.

I love the softness of him
I see in his eyes.

He does not find fault in my
demands or my cries -

nor when I rub my big head
on his trousered thighs.

The day I found him I knew
that I had a prize.

So I presented him with
the finest of flies -

and a dead mouse gift also
but he prefers fries.

I like to sit in his lap
while books make him wise -

and I play with the pages
like one of the guys.

When I come home wet he rubs
my fur 'til it dries.

Then I snuggle down with him
and dream 'til sunrise.


Written for The Mag: Mag 215 that inspired with the above image prompt
(The King of Cats, 1935, Balthus).


Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Mag 214 — Caged

Create interests for yourself,
a house becomes a cage
when love goes.

She said those words to a
friend of a friend awhile ago,
feeling so wise for one
so young, for one with love
taken for granted -- as memory
is also taken for granted,
not expected to go.

Now, in this house, her
father putters around caregivers
who come and go, come and go,
like his flickering memory
turning to dust -- and she
comes and goes less and
stays more and more, caged,
hoping for one more lucid
smile, one more time to hear,
How's my darlin' girl today?
before love and memory
become only a mime's act.

Written for The Mag: Mag 214 that inspired with the above image prompt
(photo by Kelsey Hannah).

Friday, April 4, 2014

Meeting the Bar—Emotion in poetry

 Image: cropped photo via Upaya Zen Center

Sitting on his black cushion
there on the floor, with
the sangha seated about like
a half-moon of intention
listening-absorbing, he
told of his journey, of
the suffering that
brought him there.
sudden stillness came as
he could speak no more
in the small-town art center
quieted from activity, with
spot-lit children's paintings
playing colorfully, silently.
dozens of Pink Panthers
danced on the walls as he wept.


Written for MeetingTheBar—Emotion in poetry, at dVerse Poets Pub, hosted this week by Claudia Schoenfeld. Her prompt was to write a poem about an emotion without saying what the emotion is.

Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Poetics: Animal Symbolism or Antics — Cats

 Image: painting by Karen Margulis

so sublime,
e'er independent;
Up, down, here, there! - and then
sleeping, tucked in by the sun,
lost in dreams of earth and cosmos.
Worshipped by ancients, with them preserved;
My lap reserved for the one I adore.

Written for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics, hosted this week by Marina Sofia. Her prompt, Animal Symbolism or Antics, invited us to write a poem about an animal. Mine is written in the poetry form, Etheree, which consists of ten lines of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 syllables.

Friday, March 28, 2014

Friday Flash 55 — Last Call

The tuxedo t-shirt bar crew
yelled Last Call to the crowd
of hot grinding dancers
     and solitary pointstars.

Their club DJ sequed to his final song,
urging them all to find a spark,
a spark to ward off the lonely dark.

With his final notes pairing magic
pulsing in the air DJ sighed:
     “There, there.”


My post written in exactly 55 words for Friday Flash 55. This is the last week that G-Man will serve as our Host here. It has been a great ride, G!

Friday, March 21, 2014

Friday Flash 55 — MH370

Image: Albuquerque by Bryan Collins

She will not look down -
    will never give up - will
trace invisible contrails
making circles in the skies
over many lands, teasing
blue waters that wave
back, then swell and fold
over stories forever untold -
    while she grows old
looking up (never drown)
as dark arcs deepen
under her arid eyes,
    and time flies.

My post in exactly 55 words written for Friday Flash 5. Next week will be the final week that G-Man will be our Host here. Thanks so much for your many encouraging words, Galen. I will miss you!
.G-Man, who has been our host 

Friday, March 14, 2014

Friday Flash 55 — Roots

Rite of Remembrance by Madeline von Foerster

When there are roots
something seemingly dead is still
alive at the heart of the world
where silence lives.

Roots go deep,
holding fast to the memory
of days growing in the sun.

Then darkness displays
a crown of stars blessing the 
primal essence that could not die. 

And night birds sing to the moon.


My post in exactly 55 words written for Friday Flash 55.
Visit G-Man and his Mr. Knowitall community for more weekly 55s.



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