Path’s End
Where is the yellow brick road
That’s in a child’s dream?
Where is the line between
Morals taught/ Lessons learned?
Where is the blue horizon
Just as the storm arrives?
Where is the starry night sky
Just as dawn’s born?
Where is the gingerbread house,
That’s in fairy tale land?
Where is the dream of forever
That’s at path’s end!
Showing posts with label discription. Show all posts
Showing posts with label discription. Show all posts
Friday, April 30, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
APRIL 28, 2010 POEM A DAY (BALANCING ON LINE)
For today's prompt, write an end of the line poem. Maybe the narrator of your poem is at the end of his or her line. Other possible lines that have an end: assembly lines, phone lines, power lines, rail lines, graph lines, dotted lines, waiting lines, lines of poetry, etc.
Balancing On Line
In the glooming time
Where day exhales the
Last of the oranges
And the night inhale
The violets of darkness
There you will find
Where reality and magic
Can both be seen
In the dawn
Where night exhales the
Last of ebony
And the day inhales
The first of gold
Where magic and reality
Both will find
Me balancing on the line
Where one can hear rainbows
Balancing On Line
In the glooming time
Where day exhales the
Last of the oranges
And the night inhale
The violets of darkness
There you will find
Where reality and magic
Can both be seen
In the dawn
Where night exhales the
Last of ebony
And the day inhales
The first of gold
Where magic and reality
Both will find
Me balancing on the line
Where one can hear rainbows
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
APRIL 27, 2010 POEM A DAY CHALLENGE (HOPELESS HOPE)
Wow! After today, we'll be a mere three days from the end of this challenge. Today is a two for Tuesday prompt, so you've got two options:
Write a hopeful poem.
Write a hopeless poem.
Hopeless hope
She lies there in hopelessness
Her body has give up
She has no control
Everyone must chip in
To bath, feed and clean
This helpless creature
Some days there is only slumber
Not awakening for food, drinks or meds
Other times there are days without
Sleep, wiggling and hoping to get
Loose of the death hold
From the medical bed
Some days are filled with hope
That things will be alright,
As other days only tell
The tale of age just spent.
Where is one to be at 86
Hoping to leave,
Or hopeful to just stay
For one more day
Write a hopeful poem.
Write a hopeless poem.
Hopeless hope
She lies there in hopelessness
Her body has give up
She has no control
Everyone must chip in
To bath, feed and clean
This helpless creature
Some days there is only slumber
Not awakening for food, drinks or meds
Other times there are days without
Sleep, wiggling and hoping to get
Loose of the death hold
From the medical bed
Some days are filled with hope
That things will be alright,
As other days only tell
The tale of age just spent.
Where is one to be at 86
Hoping to leave,
Or hopeful to just stay
For one more day
Saturday, April 24, 2010
APRIL 24, 2010 POEM A DAY (ANXIETY ATTACK)
Anxiety Attack
It reaches up
From the bowels of hell
Traveling from toes
To the ends of hair.
Strangling the fibers
Of my being.
Holding tight
I try to breathe!
Within the fetal position
Arms crossed about my chest
Watching flashes of images
Fly across the wall then
Crawl upon my skin
Into my ears
Between my toes
Throughout my hair!
I beg for sleep
For me to be released
From this sleepless hold
Upon my soul!
It reaches up
From the bowels of hell
Traveling from toes
To the ends of hair.
Strangling the fibers
Of my being.
Holding tight
I try to breathe!
Within the fetal position
Arms crossed about my chest
Watching flashes of images
Fly across the wall then
Crawl upon my skin
Into my ears
Between my toes
Throughout my hair!
I beg for sleep
For me to be released
From this sleepless hold
Upon my soul!
APRIL 24 POEM A DAY CHALLENGE (GOOD NIGHT)
4-24-2001
For today's prompt, write an evening poem. My initial thought is that this poem would somehow involve the night, but upon further reflection, I guess it could be about evening things up or something.
Good Night
Springs' night air whispers your scent
Enticing my longing to touch you
On the back porch, you sit across from me
Behind you the orange and red of sunset
Plays with the light on your hair.
As the sunset passes into dusk
I whisper "Good Night"
To the sun's last ray of day
You smile
The evening’s darkness exhales
You are with me
And I am safe in your presence.
For today's prompt, write an evening poem. My initial thought is that this poem would somehow involve the night, but upon further reflection, I guess it could be about evening things up or something.
Good Night
Springs' night air whispers your scent
Enticing my longing to touch you
On the back porch, you sit across from me
Behind you the orange and red of sunset
Plays with the light on your hair.
As the sunset passes into dusk
I whisper "Good Night"
To the sun's last ray of day
You smile
The evening’s darkness exhales
You are with me
And I am safe in your presence.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
APRIL 21, 2010 POEM A DAY CHALLENGE (ACCORDING TO)
For today's prompt, take the phrase "According to (blank)," replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write the poem. Example titles might be: "According to Bob," "According to these instructions," "According to the government," "According to the sun," etc.
April 21, 2010
According To:
According to the Gremlins
Hanging off my earlobes
I cannot get it posted today
According to the Mother
It is proclaimed that I am always wrong
According to the doctors
Mom needs a feeding tube
According to mom’s appetite
At the nursing home she was not being fed
According to me (being wrong)
The nurses were just lazy
According to her weight gain
I must be doing something right
According to Medicaid
Mom should not have gifted her monies
According to the system
She should get it all back
According to economical times
The money is long since spent to survive
According to Medicaid
Mom is denied services, just sent home to die
According to the children
They complained that I was an absentee mother
According to the shrinks of County Child Services
The boys were never touched
According to my Québec weekend vacation
Years later, one child did confess
According to the years of bad behavior
Their uncle got 10 years
According to my dentist
Soon I’ll have no teeth
According to x boyfriends
I have bad wiring in my head
According to the shrinks
I am working with half my brain
According to my doctors
I need to lose lots a weight
According to my mirror
I am still 112lbs, but
According to my scale
It just pops and screams
According to the coroner
He could pronounce me dead
According to my Pop
I was his Pocahontas, a graceful, barefooted, free spirit
According to my old man
I must be part redneck, with bare and dirty feet
He does not see the Pocahontas in me
According to my Presa Canario (135lbs dog)
I take up too much of my own bed
According to my lover
I am insatiable in between the sheets
According to some of my actions
I’m sure to burn in Hell
According to some others
I’ve guaranteed a right hand seat next to God
According to my life
Maybe Purgatory will just do.
According to the self
It is ordained that I am always right.
According to my life’s story
It sounds like I’ve been in therapy for years
According to my sanity
Writing is all that saved me.
April 21, 2010
According To:
According to the Gremlins
Hanging off my earlobes
I cannot get it posted today
According to the Mother
It is proclaimed that I am always wrong
According to the doctors
Mom needs a feeding tube
According to mom’s appetite
At the nursing home she was not being fed
According to me (being wrong)
The nurses were just lazy
According to her weight gain
I must be doing something right
According to Medicaid
Mom should not have gifted her monies
According to the system
She should get it all back
According to economical times
The money is long since spent to survive
According to Medicaid
Mom is denied services, just sent home to die
According to the children
They complained that I was an absentee mother
According to the shrinks of County Child Services
The boys were never touched
According to my Québec weekend vacation
Years later, one child did confess
According to the years of bad behavior
Their uncle got 10 years
According to my dentist
Soon I’ll have no teeth
According to x boyfriends
I have bad wiring in my head
According to the shrinks
I am working with half my brain
According to my doctors
I need to lose lots a weight
According to my mirror
I am still 112lbs, but
According to my scale
It just pops and screams
According to the coroner
He could pronounce me dead
According to my Pop
I was his Pocahontas, a graceful, barefooted, free spirit
According to my old man
I must be part redneck, with bare and dirty feet
He does not see the Pocahontas in me
According to my Presa Canario (135lbs dog)
I take up too much of my own bed
According to my lover
I am insatiable in between the sheets
According to some of my actions
I’m sure to burn in Hell
According to some others
I’ve guaranteed a right hand seat next to God
According to my life
Maybe Purgatory will just do.
According to the self
It is ordained that I am always right.
According to my life’s story
It sounds like I’ve been in therapy for years
According to my sanity
Writing is all that saved me.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
APRIL 20, 2010 POEM A DAY CHALLENGE (WATCHWOMAN)
http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides
Today is a two for Tuesday prompt. Here are the two options:
Write a looking back poem. There are a few ways to tackle this one, I guess. The narrator could be reflecting on the past or literally looking back (like over his or her shoulder).
Write a poem that doesn't look back. This poem would be kind of the opposite, I suppose. Narrator who refuses to look back or who is literally looking forward (or I suppose another option even is that the narrator is blind or something).
Of course, if anyone has an interpretation that falls outside of my suggestions, then feel free to run with them. I always encourage poets to bend the prompts to their will.
Watchwoman
I have sat upon
Kaatskill Falls
For a millennium
My arms searching
Reaching skywards
My roots spreading
I have become gazer
Standing testament
Of long times spent
I have witnessed
The inhales and exhales
Of countless days
I have witnessed
Mankind’s brilliance
In fortitude and defeat
I am the original
Birch Tree who
Extends her reach
I am now a grove
Of Birch Trees
Canopying the falls
I am the Sentry
Watchwoman of Earth
Anticipating my rebirth
In the quiets of
A winter storm
You may hear me
“I open to the North,
I open to the East,
I open to the South,
I open to the West,
Elements complete my circle.”
I stand and wait
Bare and naked
In winter’s storms
For the coming
For my resurrection
For mankind to understand
Peace.
Today is a two for Tuesday prompt. Here are the two options:
Write a looking back poem. There are a few ways to tackle this one, I guess. The narrator could be reflecting on the past or literally looking back (like over his or her shoulder).
Write a poem that doesn't look back. This poem would be kind of the opposite, I suppose. Narrator who refuses to look back or who is literally looking forward (or I suppose another option even is that the narrator is blind or something).
Of course, if anyone has an interpretation that falls outside of my suggestions, then feel free to run with them. I always encourage poets to bend the prompts to their will.
Watchwoman
I have sat upon
Kaatskill Falls
For a millennium
My arms searching
Reaching skywards
My roots spreading
I have become gazer
Standing testament
Of long times spent
I have witnessed
The inhales and exhales
Of countless days
I have witnessed
Mankind’s brilliance
In fortitude and defeat
I am the original
Birch Tree who
Extends her reach
I am now a grove
Of Birch Trees
Canopying the falls
I am the Sentry
Watchwoman of Earth
Anticipating my rebirth
In the quiets of
A winter storm
You may hear me
“I open to the North,
I open to the East,
I open to the South,
I open to the West,
Elements complete my circle.”
I stand and wait
Bare and naked
In winter’s storms
For the coming
For my resurrection
For mankind to understand
Peace.
Monday, April 19, 2010
APRIL 19, 2010 POEM A DAY (JE' MEIN) (2ND RESPONSE)
http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides
JUST FOR FUN
Je’Mein
In “Z” island of Je’maka
There iz a pardying man
Je’Mein, Oh Je’Mein
Vith hiz straw hat
He smokes hiz veed
Je’Mein, Oh Je’mein
Pardy’s vith “z” vomen
Pardy’s vith ”z” men
Je’Mein, Oh Je’Mein
Vith “z” beauties of hiz isle,
He dances till dawn,
Je’Mein - Vhat a pardying man!
Vith hiz weed in one hand,
And hiz drink in “z” other
Je’Mein, Oh Je’Mein
Vith hiz style, men zayz
He’z “z” horns, and “z” vomen
Melt vithin hiz armz!
Oh Je’Mein, Je’Mein
Vhat a pardying man!
Vith life in hiz deedz,
Love vithin hiz heart,
Je’Mein iz Je’Mein
Juzt a pardying man
JUST FOR FUN
Je’Mein
In “Z” island of Je’maka
There iz a pardying man
Je’Mein, Oh Je’Mein
Vith hiz straw hat
He smokes hiz veed
Je’Mein, Oh Je’mein
Pardy’s vith “z” vomen
Pardy’s vith ”z” men
Je’Mein, Oh Je’Mein
Vith “z” beauties of hiz isle,
He dances till dawn,
Je’Mein - Vhat a pardying man!
Vith hiz weed in one hand,
And hiz drink in “z” other
Je’Mein, Oh Je’Mein
Vith hiz style, men zayz
He’z “z” horns, and “z” vomen
Melt vithin hiz armz!
Oh Je’Mein, Je’Mein
Vhat a pardying man!
Vith life in hiz deedz,
Love vithin hiz heart,
Je’Mein iz Je’Mein
Juzt a pardying man
APRIL 19, 2010 POEM A DAY CHALLENGE (JOHN'S UNAWARE)
2010 APRIL 19
http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides
For today's prompt, write a poem about somebody and be sure to include the person's name in the title of your poem (no reason to hide the person's identity here). Write a poem about Abraham Lincoln, Emily Dickinson, Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi, your next door neighbor, your child, or the person standing behind you. I guess you could even technically write a poem about yourself (just make sure you include your name in the title).
John's Unaware
I lay very still as the
Illumination of the digital clock
Swallows another minute.
I hear his breath
Begin to rumble and roar
Into that old familiar snore.
I touch the tip of his nose
Feather-like and he stirs
And again the snoring is broken
For only a short time
As I lay next to him
He knows not of my sleepless nights
I dare not move
For fear I would awaken him
He knows not of the anxiety attack
That has gripped my soul
He just snores.
http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides
For today's prompt, write a poem about somebody and be sure to include the person's name in the title of your poem (no reason to hide the person's identity here). Write a poem about Abraham Lincoln, Emily Dickinson, Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi, your next door neighbor, your child, or the person standing behind you. I guess you could even technically write a poem about yourself (just make sure you include your name in the title).
John's Unaware
I lay very still as the
Illumination of the digital clock
Swallows another minute.
I hear his breath
Begin to rumble and roar
Into that old familiar snore.
I touch the tip of his nose
Feather-like and he stirs
And again the snoring is broken
For only a short time
As I lay next to him
He knows not of my sleepless nights
I dare not move
For fear I would awaken him
He knows not of the anxiety attack
That has gripped my soul
He just snores.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
APRIL 18, 2010 POEM A DAY CHALLENGE (TO BE ATTACHED)
2010-04-18
http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides
For today's prompt, take the phrase "To (blank)," replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write the poem. Some examples: "To the left, to the left," "To write or not to write," "To Kill a Hummingbird," "To the Doghouse," etc. There are so many possibilities.
To Be Attached
God has given
All
A rainbow of colors
To draw upon
It is our choice
On what side of the spectrum
We utilize.
To combine,
And color
The world around us
Producing one’s aura
To be attached
To God’s brilliant light.
http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides
For today's prompt, take the phrase "To (blank)," replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write the poem. Some examples: "To the left, to the left," "To write or not to write," "To Kill a Hummingbird," "To the Doghouse," etc. There are so many possibilities.
To Be Attached
God has given
All
A rainbow of colors
To draw upon
It is our choice
On what side of the spectrum
We utilize.
To combine,
And color
The world around us
Producing one’s aura
To be attached
To God’s brilliant light.
APRIL 16, 2010 POEM A DAY CHALLENGE (NOT FOGOTTEN BY GOD) (2ND RESPONSE)
2010-04-16
http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides
Not Forgotten By God
As the sun peeks through the canopy,
A tear drop of sunlight stains the earth....
On the century old and neglected Palisade Interstate Park Cemetery
Proving they are not forgotten by God
http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides
Not Forgotten By God
As the sun peeks through the canopy,
A tear drop of sunlight stains the earth....
On the century old and neglected Palisade Interstate Park Cemetery
Proving they are not forgotten by God
APRIL 12, 2010 POEM A DAY (MESA MATHRUH, EGYPT)
2010-4-12
For today's prompt, pick a city, make that the title of your poem, and write a poem. Your poem can praise or belittle the city. Your poem could be about the city or about the people of the city. Your poem could even have seemingly nothing to do with the city. But the simple act of picking a city will set the mood (to a certain degree), so choose wisely.
Mesa Mathruh, Egypt
Jingle, Jingle
Of the donkey drawn taxi carriages
Dowah, Dowah
Of the cotton candy man
Psst, Psst
Of the sales men boys along the beach
Swish, Swish
Of the aqua blue sea mingling with
The white, white powered sands
Scuff, Scuff
Of the ship-ships hitting the sanded road
Moo or Bah
Of the loose herds crossing the streets
Flutter, Flutter
Of kites flying higher than the
Mosque’s twin towers
The calling to worship
Five times a day echoing off the sea.
I listen to Mesa Mathruh
As she asks me where I’ve been.
For today's prompt, pick a city, make that the title of your poem, and write a poem. Your poem can praise or belittle the city. Your poem could be about the city or about the people of the city. Your poem could even have seemingly nothing to do with the city. But the simple act of picking a city will set the mood (to a certain degree), so choose wisely.
Mesa Mathruh, Egypt
Jingle, Jingle
Of the donkey drawn taxi carriages
Dowah, Dowah
Of the cotton candy man
Psst, Psst
Of the sales men boys along the beach
Swish, Swish
Of the aqua blue sea mingling with
The white, white powered sands
Scuff, Scuff
Of the ship-ships hitting the sanded road
Moo or Bah
Of the loose herds crossing the streets
Flutter, Flutter
Of kites flying higher than the
Mosque’s twin towers
The calling to worship
Five times a day echoing off the sea.
I listen to Mesa Mathruh
As she asks me where I’ve been.
APRIL 9, 2010 POEM A DAY CHALLENGE (FREE SPIRIT)
2010-04-09
http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides
For today's prompt, write a self-portrait poem. Other artists study themselves to create compositions (not all of them exactly flattering either), so it is only natural that poets, who are word artists, write self-portrait poems from time to time. In fact, some poets make self-portrait poetry "their main thing." For at least today, make it yours.
Free Spirit
I am the soul that belongs
To no one and everyone simultaneously
I am that being, that is
Inhaled and exhaled
As easily as all require oxygen
I am the seer of the fortune,
Like the sunken Titanic
Seeing all and giving nothing
I am the wild gypsy
Dancing with No spotlight
As the full moon hides
Behind a heavy veil of clouds
I am that free spirit
Mother always warned you about!
http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides
For today's prompt, write a self-portrait poem. Other artists study themselves to create compositions (not all of them exactly flattering either), so it is only natural that poets, who are word artists, write self-portrait poems from time to time. In fact, some poets make self-portrait poetry "their main thing." For at least today, make it yours.
Free Spirit
I am the soul that belongs
To no one and everyone simultaneously
I am that being, that is
Inhaled and exhaled
As easily as all require oxygen
I am the seer of the fortune,
Like the sunken Titanic
Seeing all and giving nothing
I am the wild gypsy
Dancing with No spotlight
As the full moon hides
Behind a heavy veil of clouds
I am that free spirit
Mother always warned you about!
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