http://wewritepoems.wordpress.com/2013/01/30/prompt-140-its-post-your-poems-day/
The Eye of the Beholder
A Trio Elfje Wave between two Elfje;
A Different Elfje Quint:
Part and Parcel
There
is beauty
in natural silence
away from the maddening
crowd
~~~
Circus
showing at
Madison Square Garden
stuffed into nosebleed seats
ROAR!
Massive
crowds, sharing the same
air - unable to
see three
rings
Ants;
we all
marched together and
clapped when the acts
finished
~~~
Under
my willow
beside the creek
fresh air, insect buzz -
peace
(c) JP/davh
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Sunday Whirl 93: Wordle Elfje Trio
http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2013/01/27/wordle-93/
chimes, scattered, mirror, skirted, raw, mist,
straw, scale, vast, curved, edge, tattered
Wordle Elfje Trio:
scattered
chimes tattered
in the raw
mist like broken straw
silent
mirror
curved edge
reflecting vast emotions,
skirted responsibilities - bundled up
bound
skirted
fallen branches -
I collect fallen
pieces rebuild the musical
scale
(c) JP/davh
chimes, scattered, mirror, skirted, raw, mist,
straw, scale, vast, curved, edge, tattered
Wordle Elfje Trio:
scattered
chimes tattered
in the raw
mist like broken straw
silent
mirror
curved edge
reflecting vast emotions,
skirted responsibilities - bundled up
bound
skirted
fallen branches -
I collect fallen
pieces rebuild the musical
scale
(c) JP/davh
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
WWP 139: Do You Read Me?
http://wewritepoems.wordpress.com/2013/01/23/prompt-139-A Moment Unexpected
Do You Read Me?
You think
that the words
you have carefully crafted
sometimes bold
other times opaque
could only be interpreted
how you meant them
And yet
there you are
shaken to your core
when out of the blue
you are confronted
left holding the bag
of unexpected
accusations
And the commotion -
the reverberation
after the simple explanation
is left unanswered
‘dead air’ manifest in your trembling hands
and your poetic soul is shaken
But the ink does not dry up
just the tears
and you... ...move... ...on...
Roger, that.
(c) JP/davh
Process notes: took the whole week to think about this one. For better or worse - here it is.
Do You Read Me?
You think
that the words
you have carefully crafted
sometimes bold
other times opaque
could only be interpreted
how you meant them
And yet
there you are
shaken to your core
when out of the blue
you are confronted
left holding the bag
of unexpected
accusations
And the commotion -
the reverberation
after the simple explanation
is left unanswered
‘dead air’ manifest in your trembling hands
and your poetic soul is shaken
But the ink does not dry up
just the tears
and you... ...move... ...on...
Roger, that.
(c) JP/davh
Process notes: took the whole week to think about this one. For better or worse - here it is.
Sunday, January 20, 2013
SW 92 Haggard
http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2013/01/20/wordle-92-a-bakers-dozen/
charge, artfully, knocks, filaments, cell, sticky,
pearls, bone, linen, air, beware, skin, call
Haggard
Beware the sticky filaments of the spiders silk
upon your skin - that artfully draped linen dress
that you plan to let fall too soon after your
picnic and the gift box of pearls...from him
that you requested to seal your secret deal?
Will you hear knocks upon your door at midnight
after the summer air has become cold enough
to chill each and every perfumed cell of your body?
Will he call, will his steed charge to your rescue?
Do you remember there is no guarantee
of the spell that uses finely crushed bone and other things
that you will add to his wine from my old matronly ring?
Will you be prepared for whatever curse his wife
might have bought from me a fortnight ago
to keep his loyalty for her - love is not the issue, is it?
Pay me more gold coins and perhaps other arrangements
can be made to keep her skin diseased...
(c) JP/davh
Just going where the words took me...
this is not part of my story verse.
But who knows where it could lead?
charge, artfully, knocks, filaments, cell, sticky,
pearls, bone, linen, air, beware, skin, call
Haggard
Beware the sticky filaments of the spiders silk
upon your skin - that artfully draped linen dress
that you plan to let fall too soon after your
picnic and the gift box of pearls...from him
that you requested to seal your secret deal?
Will you hear knocks upon your door at midnight
after the summer air has become cold enough
to chill each and every perfumed cell of your body?
Will he call, will his steed charge to your rescue?
Do you remember there is no guarantee
of the spell that uses finely crushed bone and other things
that you will add to his wine from my old matronly ring?
Will you be prepared for whatever curse his wife
might have bought from me a fortnight ago
to keep his loyalty for her - love is not the issue, is it?
Pay me more gold coins and perhaps other arrangements
can be made to keep her skin diseased...
(c) JP/davh
Just going where the words took me...
this is not part of my story verse.
But who knows where it could lead?
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
WWP 138: Biographic
http://wewritepoems.wordpress.com/2013/01/16/prompt-138-the memoir project
Biographic
Opening the book, some of the pages are blank
Others only have one word or one sentence...
And yet the day arrives after sleep, not always restful
Time lost can never be regained...and yet
There is a constant - All the prayers that stream in
From those closest to the strangers far away...
And the dust jacket on the book, once an abstract -
Is becoming clearer - and the new face looks back
A stranger that is sometimes recognizable to the soul
Being built by newly formed puzzle pieces securely bound
Publishing a new life takes courage, confidence falters
When the well of ink seems to run dry - love refills it.
Memoirs - they are perhaps overrated when all you can do
Is move forward from whatever starting line one’s brain allows...
Concentrating on the posters on the wall, photos of family
And friends, names of those inspired to join this journey...
Emotions overload and overwhelm, filling up the empty spaces -
Looking again at the book, relaxing as the pages fill...
(c) JP/davh
Process notes: This is another verse written for K.S. Who after being in a coma for two months, and in a fast forward rehab mode for two more months, may get to go home soon. Recovery isn't always easy. And while most days are filled with love and smiles - sometimes, like everyone - doubt creeps in. But with all the positive energy around this ‘miracle’ it is difficult to keep a good person down.
Biographic
Opening the book, some of the pages are blank
Others only have one word or one sentence...
And yet the day arrives after sleep, not always restful
Time lost can never be regained...and yet
There is a constant - All the prayers that stream in
From those closest to the strangers far away...
And the dust jacket on the book, once an abstract -
Is becoming clearer - and the new face looks back
A stranger that is sometimes recognizable to the soul
Being built by newly formed puzzle pieces securely bound
Publishing a new life takes courage, confidence falters
When the well of ink seems to run dry - love refills it.
Memoirs - they are perhaps overrated when all you can do
Is move forward from whatever starting line one’s brain allows...
Concentrating on the posters on the wall, photos of family
And friends, names of those inspired to join this journey...
Emotions overload and overwhelm, filling up the empty spaces -
Looking again at the book, relaxing as the pages fill...
(c) JP/davh
Process notes: This is another verse written for K.S. Who after being in a coma for two months, and in a fast forward rehab mode for two more months, may get to go home soon. Recovery isn't always easy. And while most days are filled with love and smiles - sometimes, like everyone - doubt creeps in. But with all the positive energy around this ‘miracle’ it is difficult to keep a good person down.
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
United We Stand
United We Stand
It is difficult for any of us to understand where we stand
We would like to think we are important because we exist
as children, parents, partners, friends, employees or volunteers.
Some of us get labeled early on as trouble makers, rebels, free
thinkers, fast, slow, gentle, kind, loud or quiet. But we can change
after we evolve, grow, learn, take action, motivate and move.
There are times when a person gets to be a living angel.
But they just don’t understand why, because they are only
doing what they need and want to do to allow love light to shine.
When someone struggles back from an unplanned set back -
from an accident that put them in a very dark place - then with grace
they expand, expound, explode expected limitations - we smile.
We want to join the ride with them, knowing the trill of each new
turn, feeling the wind in our hair as they climb that seemingly
insurmountable mountain to plant the flag of success.
That is how inspiration works, sometimes. One candle flame gets
passed to light another candle and before you know it the room
is as bright as the sun on a summers day - that is the miracle.
(c) JP/davh
inspired by K.S.
It is difficult for any of us to understand where we stand
We would like to think we are important because we exist
as children, parents, partners, friends, employees or volunteers.
Some of us get labeled early on as trouble makers, rebels, free
thinkers, fast, slow, gentle, kind, loud or quiet. But we can change
after we evolve, grow, learn, take action, motivate and move.
There are times when a person gets to be a living angel.
But they just don’t understand why, because they are only
doing what they need and want to do to allow love light to shine.
When someone struggles back from an unplanned set back -
from an accident that put them in a very dark place - then with grace
they expand, expound, explode expected limitations - we smile.
We want to join the ride with them, knowing the trill of each new
turn, feeling the wind in our hair as they climb that seemingly
insurmountable mountain to plant the flag of success.
That is how inspiration works, sometimes. One candle flame gets
passed to light another candle and before you know it the room
is as bright as the sun on a summers day - that is the miracle.
(c) JP/davh
inspired by K.S.
Sunday, January 13, 2013
SW91 A Concrete Poem
http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2013/01/13/wordle91/
burden, bends, drunk, poetry, virtue, palace,
ditch, diminishing, wish, breaks, room, steps
SW 91: A Concrete Poem:
burden, bends, drunk, poetry, virtue, palace,
ditch, diminishing, wish, breaks, room, steps
SW 91: A Concrete Poem:
\\there is no burden, around the bends,//
\as the diminishing path leads to or/
from a palace or ditch...the steps
\we take make room for our/
\\wish to write poetry.//
life and duty are
minimal
breaks
taken
after we
have drunk the
\virtue of blank paper with the ink of our being/
(c) JP/davh
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