(C4)
Feeding Souls
Mother and Father knew the time of ambivalence was drawing
to a close...perhaps another fifty or one hundred years, a mere blink
of an eye for them, and they quelled fear by breathing sacred incense.
They would not be dazed by the limits of men’s timekeeping.
Throughout their lives the pair had taken those children that Acheron
had fathered, but had not known about - those children whose births
had left their mothers bodies like the empty hulls of shucked corn -
and had filled those children with holy tenderness.
The self proclaimed wizard could with flaps of his wrists make whirlpools,
but he would be made to scurry back into the farthest depths of
the darkest water when eventually confronted with the overwhelming
army of positively powerful prayers that would evolve when needed.
Mother’s emerald let the pair see their charges; Porter was in the able companionship of the man called Chan - So many of their charges that
they had gifted back into the world had been re-balanced to ‘good.’
Johnny-boy too had the empathy needed to conquer great wrongs.
Nevaeh was gracious to accept alternate beings such as Mother and
Father into the cause that would eventually return this reality back into
a safely evolving place that could be a haven for natural magic.
Balance was always a key to survival - there was no place for pure evil.
© JP/davh
http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2012/09/29/wordle-76/
Wordle 76: dazed, incense, ambivalence, empties/empty, holy,
scurries/scurry, breathing, fear, flaps, prayers, water, tenderness
With a nod to Brenda W. for the title. From seed to kernel, another evolution.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Musical Notes Prompt #8 "We are the World"
http://1sojournal.wordpress.com/2012/09/25/musical-notes-prompt-8/
Music : "We Are the World"
(untitled)
a piece of dust
on this big blue ball
and yet
i am part of the ‘we’
belonging to the world
holding doors open,
returning lost possessions,
filing letters, shaping words,
while attempting to dust
a full breath
on this big blue ball
and yet
i also exhale
into the whole planet
holding fragments of memories,
returning to lost dreams,
filling pages, shaping self,
while attempting to breath
a piece of dust
on this big blue ball
and yet
i can be a part of the greater good
holding, grasping hand,
returning dignity
finding truth, shaping smiles
while attempting to...
(Went with something new...)
JP/davh
Music : "We Are the World"
(untitled)
a piece of dust
on this big blue ball
and yet
i am part of the ‘we’
belonging to the world
holding doors open,
returning lost possessions,
filing letters, shaping words,
while attempting to dust
a full breath
on this big blue ball
and yet
i also exhale
into the whole planet
holding fragments of memories,
returning to lost dreams,
filling pages, shaping self,
while attempting to breath
a piece of dust
on this big blue ball
and yet
i can be a part of the greater good
holding, grasping hand,
returning dignity
finding truth, shaping smiles
while attempting to...
(Went with something new...)
JP/davh
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
WWP Prompt 124: Oh, Dear
Oh, Dear;
I know you don’t care that the seasons change for me, as you are
a permanent ‘snowbird’ - funny how your doc has told you the sun
isn’t good for you. Yet, I guess for you - There will be no more snow.
I know you’d like to do the meet and greet thing with people you haven’t
met yet. And fret about never meeting. The newest family or to-be family
members. But, I guess for you - There will be no more snow.
I know you’d want me to call more often - but it’s a strain to hear how much
pain you might be in, when there isn’t anything I can do. I don’t know for you
what is imagined or real - except for that for you - there will be no more snow.
I know that fawning doesn’t make a difference - so that’s why I’ve stopped.
Unconditional love occasionally calls for the words; “I’m sorry” and “I was
wrong.” I can live with, that for you - there will be no more snow.
I know that compromise trumps fear and that there is just a whole heck of a lot
stuff I can’t change. Maybe by now you have finally learned that too, that I have
worth, a different value? And maybe one day for me - there will be no more snow.
JP/davh
#124 Dear Poets of WWP,
What exactly is an Epistle Poem?
This week's prompt is to write an epistle poem.
http://wewritepoems.wordpress.com/2012/09/26/prompt-124-its-post-your-poems-day/
Process notes: The best way to jump into the unfamiliar is to do so with both feet.
Perhaps I’m not sinking? But it doesn’t quite feel like swimming. Just treading water
while waiting for it to rain...
I know you don’t care that the seasons change for me, as you are
a permanent ‘snowbird’ - funny how your doc has told you the sun
isn’t good for you. Yet, I guess for you - There will be no more snow.
I know you’d like to do the meet and greet thing with people you haven’t
met yet. And fret about never meeting. The newest family or to-be family
members. But, I guess for you - There will be no more snow.
I know you’d want me to call more often - but it’s a strain to hear how much
pain you might be in, when there isn’t anything I can do. I don’t know for you
what is imagined or real - except for that for you - there will be no more snow.
I know that fawning doesn’t make a difference - so that’s why I’ve stopped.
Unconditional love occasionally calls for the words; “I’m sorry” and “I was
wrong.” I can live with, that for you - there will be no more snow.
I know that compromise trumps fear and that there is just a whole heck of a lot
stuff I can’t change. Maybe by now you have finally learned that too, that I have
worth, a different value? And maybe one day for me - there will be no more snow.
JP/davh
#124 Dear Poets of WWP,
What exactly is an Epistle Poem?
This week's prompt is to write an epistle poem.
http://wewritepoems.wordpress.com/2012/09/26/prompt-124-its-post-your-poems-day/
Process notes: The best way to jump into the unfamiliar is to do so with both feet.
Perhaps I’m not sinking? But it doesn’t quite feel like swimming. Just treading water
while waiting for it to rain...
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Sunday Whirl #75: Nuts and Bolts
Nuts and Bolts
In the damp cave Acheron never felt trapped, he could live quite nicely
within the round corners of his cave system with his carefully stored bundles.
Though his recovery was slow he was willing to weather the storm
and remain hidden.
With the all the ash he could bring from his fire pit - from burning all the
secreted Holy Relics he had stolen that were once mere decorations
along the sacred mountain he had so often climbed freely with his twin
sister Nevaeh he was able to create a new skin...
Acheron had covered his unclothed self with the pure white powder and
bespoke a rather long spell promoting new and youthful growth. It had sounded
as if metallic hardware was rattling on the hard dirt floor as his old husk shook
and fell to the ground around his feet.
Along with this new body came a new voice, and a rather handsome face -
But one he would not be parading around with until his keen mind had carefully
tweaked and settled into every altered apostrophe. While he had severed his
connection to his sister, he was sure she would recognize him.
He would have to take his time recuperating - As he knew The Mountain would
also reject his essence - this was indeed the last shot he had to underscore
and re-tip the balance of the scales into his favor. He wanted to destroy hope,
faith and everyone else’s magic...
JP/davh
Story Verse A piece 14
Thanks again to Brenda for a great list that has helped me add yet another page to my continuing story.
http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2012/09/23/wordle-75/
damp, trapped, husk, shook, bring, corners,
bundles, climbed, bolts, storm, remain, ash
In the damp cave Acheron never felt trapped, he could live quite nicely
within the round corners of his cave system with his carefully stored bundles.
Though his recovery was slow he was willing to weather the storm
and remain hidden.
With the all the ash he could bring from his fire pit - from burning all the
secreted Holy Relics he had stolen that were once mere decorations
along the sacred mountain he had so often climbed freely with his twin
sister Nevaeh he was able to create a new skin...
Acheron had covered his unclothed self with the pure white powder and
bespoke a rather long spell promoting new and youthful growth. It had sounded
as if metallic hardware was rattling on the hard dirt floor as his old husk shook
and fell to the ground around his feet.
Along with this new body came a new voice, and a rather handsome face -
But one he would not be parading around with until his keen mind had carefully
tweaked and settled into every altered apostrophe. While he had severed his
connection to his sister, he was sure she would recognize him.
He would have to take his time recuperating - As he knew The Mountain would
also reject his essence - this was indeed the last shot he had to underscore
and re-tip the balance of the scales into his favor. He wanted to destroy hope,
faith and everyone else’s magic...
JP/davh
Story Verse A piece 14
Thanks again to Brenda for a great list that has helped me add yet another page to my continuing story.
http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2012/09/23/wordle-75/
damp, trapped, husk, shook, bring, corners,
bundles, climbed, bolts, storm, remain, ash
Friday, September 21, 2012
Elizabeth's Musical Notes Prompts 1-5
http://1sojournal.wordpress.com/2012/08/07/musical-notes-prompt-1/
an Elfje:
lost
change rattles
in the sofa
aging hand-me-down
rests
http://1sojournal.wordpress.com/2012/08/14/musical-notes-prompt-2/
titled haiku:
whispered breath in willow’s wind
grounded, found, planted
words rooted in air - playful
poetic musings
http://1sojournal.wordpress.com/2012/08/21/musical-notes-prompt-3/
an Elfje for Joan:
ashes
not even
the seeds of
what was left of
passion
http://1sojournal.wordpress.com/2012/08/28/musical-notes-prompt-4/
an Elfje for all soldiers:
scripting -
don quixote
blending dreams, reality -
rusty sword becomes a
pen
http://1sojournal.wordpress.com/2012/09/04/musical-notes-prompt-5/
an Elfje in memory of A.H.H.
Doniminque
barely remembering
the round words
was her favorite, only -
musicbox
JP/davh
an Elfje:
lost
change rattles
in the sofa
aging hand-me-down
rests
http://1sojournal.wordpress.com/2012/08/14/musical-notes-prompt-2/
titled haiku:
whispered breath in willow’s wind
grounded, found, planted
words rooted in air - playful
poetic musings
http://1sojournal.wordpress.com/2012/08/21/musical-notes-prompt-3/
an Elfje for Joan:
ashes
not even
the seeds of
what was left of
passion
http://1sojournal.wordpress.com/2012/08/28/musical-notes-prompt-4/
an Elfje for all soldiers:
scripting -
don quixote
blending dreams, reality -
rusty sword becomes a
pen
http://1sojournal.wordpress.com/2012/09/04/musical-notes-prompt-5/
an Elfje in memory of A.H.H.
Doniminque
barely remembering
the round words
was her favorite, only -
musicbox
JP/davh
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Musical Notes Prompt #7: an Elfje
15 words for Elisabeth Musical Notes #7
an Elfje for Owl City/Fireflies and Paul Simons’ Under African Skies
http://1sojournal.wordpress.com/2012/09/18/musical-notes-prompt-7/
pulse
light life
blue red blood
or green-yellow glowing
spirit
Process notes: Elfje’s eleven words fit both - Thanks, Elizabeth.
More on the Elfje can be found here:
http://simplyelfje.wordpress.com/
and here:
http://julesgemstonepages.wordpress.com/how-to-write-the-gem-of-an-elfje/
an Elfje for Owl City/Fireflies and Paul Simons’ Under African Skies
http://1sojournal.wordpress.com/2012/09/18/musical-notes-prompt-7/
pulse
light life
blue red blood
or green-yellow glowing
spirit
Process notes: Elfje’s eleven words fit both - Thanks, Elizabeth.
More on the Elfje can be found here:
http://simplyelfje.wordpress.com/
and here:
http://julesgemstonepages.wordpress.com/how-to-write-the-gem-of-an-elfje/
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
We Write Poems 123:Like Moonglades
http://wewritepoems.wordpress.com/2012/09/19/prompt-123-its-post-your-poems-day/
Like Moonglades
There are no scraps of unfinished songs, jotted notes in journals.
I have wholes
sometimes more
sometimes less
Enough perfume
from the ever
changing rose -
The pieces fit
it is just the way
I operate -
~~~~~~~~~~~made by letters on~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~a blank or lined~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~page, wholes.~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...Like moonglades.
JP/davh
Like Moonglades
There are no scraps of unfinished songs, jotted notes in journals.
I have wholes
sometimes more
sometimes less
verse on the page
haiku, Elfje, prose
There are just completes, simple or complex, by my hand formed.Enough perfume
from the ever
changing rose -
stems, petals, hips
leaves, even thorns
all those parts
no left-overs.
~There are only ‘wholes’ to fall gently into or out of at your leisure.~ The pieces fit
it is just the way
I operate -
I sink or swim
exclusively, mostly
on a single page
to be shaped
and folded into
one floating boat
origami patterns~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~made by letters on~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~a blank or lined~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~page, wholes.~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~...Like moonglades.
JP/davh
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Sunday Whirl #74:Stroll
Stroll
Johanna let her hair fall in loose tresses, watched her silhouette in the
rich color of the lyric sunset - peering occasionally in her roan, Booker’s
direction to watch him saunter in the rich lilting exterior of the meadow they
had found themselves in.
It seemed as if there were an artist painting every deep green blade
of grass, and the hues of oranges, reds and yellow leaves of trees
where like a poetic alliteration barely whispering almost silent yet
sensuous just the same.
This had to be the calm before the storm - a warrior doesn’t get many
days like this to be at peace. She took out her sword - and though she had
thoroughly cleaned it numerous times could always envision the spot stained
with her mother’s blood.
The blade that her sister Regina had used to kill for the sake of her own regal
advancement and for the first time, could find no trace of that evil deed.
Jo knew she was on a journey, and the direction had just changed - now she
was no longer running away from something but towards a goal.
After shedding one final tear upon the sword her father had made for her -
Jo slowly rose and softly whistled for Booker, mounted and let the roan
use his horse sense to carry them up the mountain and through
the thickest fog they had ever encountered...
JP/davh
http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2012/09/16/wordle-74-a-bakers-dozen-from-walt/
Thanks Walt...I used them all in the poem so I had to make my own title. So I looked up ‘saunter’ in the Thesaurus and came up with an alternate meaning for the title.
artist , sensuous, lilting, rich, exterior, silent, silhouette, color
saunter, lyric, peering, alliteration, tresses
Story Verse A piece 13....for those who would like to start from one of the beginnings;
http://julesgemsandstuff.blogspot.com/p/story-verse-a.html
Story Verse B, also on its own page is connected.
Johanna let her hair fall in loose tresses, watched her silhouette in the
rich color of the lyric sunset - peering occasionally in her roan, Booker’s
direction to watch him saunter in the rich lilting exterior of the meadow they
had found themselves in.
It seemed as if there were an artist painting every deep green blade
of grass, and the hues of oranges, reds and yellow leaves of trees
where like a poetic alliteration barely whispering almost silent yet
sensuous just the same.
This had to be the calm before the storm - a warrior doesn’t get many
days like this to be at peace. She took out her sword - and though she had
thoroughly cleaned it numerous times could always envision the spot stained
with her mother’s blood.
The blade that her sister Regina had used to kill for the sake of her own regal
advancement and for the first time, could find no trace of that evil deed.
Jo knew she was on a journey, and the direction had just changed - now she
was no longer running away from something but towards a goal.
After shedding one final tear upon the sword her father had made for her -
Jo slowly rose and softly whistled for Booker, mounted and let the roan
use his horse sense to carry them up the mountain and through
the thickest fog they had ever encountered...
JP/davh
http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2012/09/16/wordle-74-a-bakers-dozen-from-walt/
Thanks Walt...I used them all in the poem so I had to make my own title. So I looked up ‘saunter’ in the Thesaurus and came up with an alternate meaning for the title.
artist , sensuous, lilting, rich, exterior, silent, silhouette, color
saunter, lyric, peering, alliteration, tresses
Story Verse A piece 13....for those who would like to start from one of the beginnings;
http://julesgemsandstuff.blogspot.com/p/story-verse-a.html
Story Verse B, also on its own page is connected.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Musical Notes #6
http://1sojournal.wordpress.com/2012/09/13/post-day-for-musical-notes-prompt-6/
Nay judge me
by the cover of
the books I read
savor my
written words
JP/davh
Nay judge me
by the cover of
the books I read
savor my
written words
JP/davh
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Margo's Tuesday Tryouts: Unfolded
Unfolded
I wanna have fun.
OK with a few of the folks I love,
maybe even like - that would be nice.
Not just sitting, watching, waiting for the score,
being out there creating the action,
no need for a reaction, in a chain or otherwise.
Not trying to set any olympian or Guinness world records.
Just wanna not have to worry about;
the bills, dust, diagnosis of tests that oughta be had.
I wanna not have to worry
about how much to spend at the grocers,
the farmers market, or if the sun will fry my skin and brains.
To be out and enjoy the rest of the season
without having to get bit by mosquitoes, horseflies,
or poisonous spiders or snakes.
To walk in bare feet on smooth as silk sand
and dive into ocean water as warm as a bath
and maybe be able to breath underwater and talk to a whale.
I wanna not have to shovel snow
maybe be able to be a snowbird - win the lottery
and be able to gift a few millions away
while making sure medical needs of the family are met
and college bills for grandchildren can be paid.
Having a secretary would be cool -
so I could spend more time creating
with pen, clay or any other artistic medium ‘cause
I wanna learn ‘em all...
JP/davh
http://margoroby.wordpress.com/2012/09/11/i-want-tuesday-tryouts/
I wanna have fun.
OK with a few of the folks I love,
maybe even like - that would be nice.
Not just sitting, watching, waiting for the score,
being out there creating the action,
no need for a reaction, in a chain or otherwise.
Not trying to set any olympian or Guinness world records.
Just wanna not have to worry about;
the bills, dust, diagnosis of tests that oughta be had.
I wanna not have to worry
about how much to spend at the grocers,
the farmers market, or if the sun will fry my skin and brains.
To be out and enjoy the rest of the season
without having to get bit by mosquitoes, horseflies,
or poisonous spiders or snakes.
To walk in bare feet on smooth as silk sand
and dive into ocean water as warm as a bath
and maybe be able to breath underwater and talk to a whale.
I wanna not have to shovel snow
maybe be able to be a snowbird - win the lottery
and be able to gift a few millions away
while making sure medical needs of the family are met
and college bills for grandchildren can be paid.
Having a secretary would be cool -
so I could spend more time creating
with pen, clay or any other artistic medium ‘cause
I wanna learn ‘em all...
JP/davh
http://margoroby.wordpress.com/2012/09/11/i-want-tuesday-tryouts/
WWP #122: Dear Prudence
Dear Prudence
Advice
is nice,
listen take it all,
especially when it is
free -
say
‘Thank you’
walk away and
do what your heart
speaks.
Fair
is compromise,
compassion, comprehension, contemplation
down the road less
traveled.
ears -
there are
two, one mouth
listen twice as hard -
see?
Freedom
is earned;
right of way
is the gift given -
guidelines...
(An Elfje Quint)
http://wewritepoems.wordpress.com/2012/09/12/prompt-122-its-post-your-poems-day/
JP/davh
Advice
is nice,
listen take it all,
especially when it is
free -
say
‘Thank you’
walk away and
do what your heart
speaks.
Fair
is compromise,
compassion, comprehension, contemplation
down the road less
traveled.
ears -
there are
two, one mouth
listen twice as hard -
see?
Freedom
is earned;
right of way
is the gift given -
guidelines...
(An Elfje Quint)
http://wewritepoems.wordpress.com/2012/09/12/prompt-122-its-post-your-poems-day/
JP/davh
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Sunday Whirl 73: Pause
Pause
As Johannah neared the kingdom that was said to be the home
of the young hero she could see the fatted contented cows in the rugged fields -
it was said that the kingdom had all but returned to its former grace and splendor,
the suffering all but forgotten though she had met warriors who remained alert.
The fierce passion that had willed her shaken spirit this far
wanted to see the marble interior of the palace, but she just wasn’t ready.
Unsure of just what blessing she was seeking she lead her roan Booker
in silence up a remote path away from the bustle and contentment of the populous.
Well supplied and rested from their last stop horse and rider
unknowingly started up the path of the sacred mountain where it was rumored
that only the invited were allowed to tread - through thick mists that were
the protective portal to a dimension that few mortals ever entered alive.
Nevaeh could use such an adversary in her private army against her twin Acheron.
Thankfully with their bond broken he could no longer read her mind or emotions -
Unfortunately that worked both ways - she still felt she could defeat him and eventually
restore a more natural balance to this world.
While Acheron the evil wizard still breathed - there could be trouble.
The young one once known as Here-boy freed the once bound good magics
but that was only one part of the sum total of damage her brother
had caused on this particular ball of life in this universe...
JP/davh
SW 73 http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2012/09/09/wordle-73/
remote, warriors, fierce, suffering, silence, shaken,
blessing, rugged, cows, splendor, marble, grace
(Story Verse A 12 piece)
Process Notes: Thank you Brenda for again producing a list that seems to lend itself well to my story verse. Maybe I just make it work. I’m having fun, I hope you enjoy the continuing story. This piece is another that links both stories together. Also with a nod margoroby.wordpress.com; punctuation and the comments therein; I am attempting to move into the current century in regards to making my poetry easier to read and use capitalization and punctuation in a more politically correct light.
As Johannah neared the kingdom that was said to be the home
of the young hero she could see the fatted contented cows in the rugged fields -
it was said that the kingdom had all but returned to its former grace and splendor,
the suffering all but forgotten though she had met warriors who remained alert.
The fierce passion that had willed her shaken spirit this far
wanted to see the marble interior of the palace, but she just wasn’t ready.
Unsure of just what blessing she was seeking she lead her roan Booker
in silence up a remote path away from the bustle and contentment of the populous.
Well supplied and rested from their last stop horse and rider
unknowingly started up the path of the sacred mountain where it was rumored
that only the invited were allowed to tread - through thick mists that were
the protective portal to a dimension that few mortals ever entered alive.
Nevaeh could use such an adversary in her private army against her twin Acheron.
Thankfully with their bond broken he could no longer read her mind or emotions -
Unfortunately that worked both ways - she still felt she could defeat him and eventually
restore a more natural balance to this world.
While Acheron the evil wizard still breathed - there could be trouble.
The young one once known as Here-boy freed the once bound good magics
but that was only one part of the sum total of damage her brother
had caused on this particular ball of life in this universe...
JP/davh
SW 73 http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2012/09/09/wordle-73/
remote, warriors, fierce, suffering, silence, shaken,
blessing, rugged, cows, splendor, marble, grace
(Story Verse A 12 piece)
Process Notes: Thank you Brenda for again producing a list that seems to lend itself well to my story verse. Maybe I just make it work. I’m having fun, I hope you enjoy the continuing story. This piece is another that links both stories together. Also with a nod margoroby.wordpress.com; punctuation and the comments therein; I am attempting to move into the current century in regards to making my poetry easier to read and use capitalization and punctuation in a more politically correct light.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
WWP #121: What My Hands Have Done...
What My Hands Have Done...
They’ve been rooting, in the dirt looking for a stone
One to leave on a memorial - that custom
To show you’ve been, and visited
like the cartoon Kilroy who peeks out over an edge
Stating, “See I was here.”
Yet for you that pebble is tossed in the creek...
For your scattered ashes have no one final resting place
They’ve been rooting, in that memory box looking for a story
The one you wouldn’t tell of that particular hell
That justified a war that took the lives of so many innocents
Some of whom you may have rescued
Carried what was left of their weight
Feeling every possible bone through their skin
For the ‘sin’ of just being born...
They’ve been rooting through that old wedding album
Of black and white photos to try and capture
And imagine the young bride who later became a mother
Caressing daughters, and yet could not be saved
When pneumonia was still in it’s medical infancy
and could not be cured - So all that is left are stories
Fading as fast as this latest summer season
They’ve been rooting over the alphabet keys
Attempting to find words to bring honor to lost loves
Two fathers and a mother who will never see
How words were found and handled
By the fingers that you helped to shape and form
Embodied in the next generation ...whose hands
Are learning to express love by touch
JP/davh
We Write Poems 121 What do hands do?
http://wewritepoems.wordpress.com/2012/09/05/prompt-121-its-post-your-poems-day/
They’ve been rooting, in the dirt looking for a stone
One to leave on a memorial - that custom
To show you’ve been, and visited
like the cartoon Kilroy who peeks out over an edge
Stating, “See I was here.”
Yet for you that pebble is tossed in the creek...
For your scattered ashes have no one final resting place
They’ve been rooting, in that memory box looking for a story
The one you wouldn’t tell of that particular hell
That justified a war that took the lives of so many innocents
Some of whom you may have rescued
Carried what was left of their weight
Feeling every possible bone through their skin
For the ‘sin’ of just being born...
They’ve been rooting through that old wedding album
Of black and white photos to try and capture
And imagine the young bride who later became a mother
Caressing daughters, and yet could not be saved
When pneumonia was still in it’s medical infancy
and could not be cured - So all that is left are stories
Fading as fast as this latest summer season
They’ve been rooting over the alphabet keys
Attempting to find words to bring honor to lost loves
Two fathers and a mother who will never see
How words were found and handled
By the fingers that you helped to shape and form
Embodied in the next generation ...whose hands
Are learning to express love by touch
JP/davh
We Write Poems 121 What do hands do?
http://wewritepoems.wordpress.com/2012/09/05/prompt-121-its-post-your-poems-day/
Sunday, September 2, 2012
SW 72: Doughboy
Doughboy
Cookie could barely contain herself, and well quite as in her excitement
Gassed the room with both bodily aroma and an odd ‘trumpet’ of a sound
chuckled loudly as she said, “Oh my lad did you hear those barking spiders?”
Here-boy’s mood shifted from fear to comfort as he tried to stifle his laughter
Morganna added her own giggles as she smoothed her white over frock -
“You are a little Jimmy of a lad, here refresh yourself with some warm bread”
The princess said offering the young one a thick slice with jam
She needed more evidence to confirm her suspicions that this boy was special
Cookie tried to wink at Morganna nine times, at last the tenth wink caught
The princesses’ eye - they would attempt any number of ploys to keep
The lad here in the kitchen with them - But they knew each other well enough
So together they would work to gain the trust of this pint sized hero...
With just a few moments of hesitation Here-boy finally decided he was safe
At least for now and completely switched gears - once without words
He chose to hide himself in plain sight and accept the comfort offered...
“Yes, ma’am - Thank you - Jimmy it is then at your service for bread and Jam”
“I’ll wash your pots and sweep your floors,” he said through mouthfuls
“Just been kicked out of the stables, I was,” he lied...
“Better to smell cooked food than have to shovel up after the horses.”
“Here then,” offered Cookie, “have an apron - You’re hired!”
Sunday Whirl 72: http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2012/09/02/wordle-72/
bare last gear final evidence refresh gassed smooth number white shift nine
This verse follows
http://julesgemsandstuff.blogspot.com/2012/08/sw-70-feathers-flights-and-foundlings.html
(3b of Story Verse A - 11th piece)
Process notes: I was out yesterday so I didn’t get to write then. After viewing the list this morning...well, I had fun with this addition...finally ready to post at around 11:30am my time.
Cookie could barely contain herself, and well quite as in her excitement
Gassed the room with both bodily aroma and an odd ‘trumpet’ of a sound
chuckled loudly as she said, “Oh my lad did you hear those barking spiders?”
Here-boy’s mood shifted from fear to comfort as he tried to stifle his laughter
Morganna added her own giggles as she smoothed her white over frock -
“You are a little Jimmy of a lad, here refresh yourself with some warm bread”
The princess said offering the young one a thick slice with jam
She needed more evidence to confirm her suspicions that this boy was special
Cookie tried to wink at Morganna nine times, at last the tenth wink caught
The princesses’ eye - they would attempt any number of ploys to keep
The lad here in the kitchen with them - But they knew each other well enough
So together they would work to gain the trust of this pint sized hero...
With just a few moments of hesitation Here-boy finally decided he was safe
At least for now and completely switched gears - once without words
He chose to hide himself in plain sight and accept the comfort offered...
“Yes, ma’am - Thank you - Jimmy it is then at your service for bread and Jam”
“I’ll wash your pots and sweep your floors,” he said through mouthfuls
“Just been kicked out of the stables, I was,” he lied...
“Better to smell cooked food than have to shovel up after the horses.”
“Here then,” offered Cookie, “have an apron - You’re hired!”
Sunday Whirl 72: http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2012/09/02/wordle-72/
bare last gear final evidence refresh gassed smooth number white shift nine
This verse follows
http://julesgemsandstuff.blogspot.com/2012/08/sw-70-feathers-flights-and-foundlings.html
(3b of Story Verse A - 11th piece)
Process notes: I was out yesterday so I didn’t get to write then. After viewing the list this morning...well, I had fun with this addition...finally ready to post at around 11:30am my time.
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