Crinkled Missives

In her hands a piece of paper becomes a bird,
not one that waits outside his morning window
nor the one in western sky drawing down evening sun.

In her hands parchment bends and folds
into lines of virgin litany, a new exhalation placed
beside crinkled missives no longer requisite.

He knows the beauty of her master work, delicate,
sure of their duty to make flight, lift his heartbeat
until it soars, he prays someday she will believe.

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Author’s Note:

Today I play with first lines. At Every Day Poems the lovely people at Tweetspeak Poetry offer a challenge. Sign up to receive a poem in your in-box each morning. Find a line that sings to you and use it as the first line of a poem of your own design.

My inspiration this day comes from The Robot Scientist’s Daughter by Jeannine Hall Gailey.

Consecrated Welcome

On stepsnapofeature3
enfolded in night
under a moon
almost faded away
into nothingness
I listen

The roar
of Smoky Hill Road
rises and falls

Wind before the storm
swirls a balero
swayed branches
in spring burgeon

I wait
in stillness
not in chaos outside
but a hush within

I leave space
for you
not empty from
a holy goodbye

I open my ribs
deep in breath
a consecrated welcome

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Author’s Note:

NaPoWriMo Day 14

Today I combined, somewhat, the prompt of writing a dialogue between myself and my soul with the Every Day Poems‘ challenge of using a line from the daily poem that arrives in my inbox each morning.

Today’s line – a holy goodbye – is from the poem On Music by — Rainer Maria Rilke, from Selected Poems of Rainer Maria Rilke, trans. Robert Bly.

 

Gravity

I told you I didn’t want tonapofeature3
wear shoes, I can’t feel the
floor, I need to be grounded

You gentled me,
give up the gravity,
you promised I could fly

In trust I stepped tiptoe
lifting my heals
I gave up my ground, I let go

You were right
it wasn’t about the shoes
it was the gravity

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Author’s Note:

NaPoWriMo Day 13. I didn’t follow today’s prompt from the website.

Instead I was inspired by my favorite place to play, Tweetspeak Poetry and Every Day Poems.

Today my poem is drawn from the line – give up the gravity – from the poem Deep Noticing by Brenda Hillman, from Loose Sugar.

Experience

Brushstroke 2

the joke was funny,
my father, however, said it was blue
and warned me never to repeat it

in the fields where my grandfather
kept his bees on Mr. Granjeans farm,
cornflowers opened their eyes,
winked a welcome to his wild things
and relinquished their sweetness
lavishly

it crushed underneath my bare foot,
I felt it after it was too late, a few missteps
and damage was done, blueberry
plasma crushed into a virgin white wool rug,
my mother’s joy, just another false step
of mine in her aspiration for perfection

his phthalo blue applied with such
gentleness, brushed and slathered
across white canvas drew me spellbound
Saturday mornings,
learning from deep within
there are no mistakes,
just happy little accidents

periwinkle petals,
zaffer glazed eyes,
Dodger blue home runs,
denim enfolds me in comfort,
an indigo sigh shaped to my curves
soft, well-worn, experienced

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Author’s Note:Im-a-poetry-chick-blue-glass

 

Oh, it’s National Poetry Month!!!!

Oh, the choices!

Today I am choosing my prompt from Tweetspeak’s
Show Us Your Poetry (Jeans)” challenge.

napofeature3

Tomorrow, who knows?

Tip and Sway

You in themselves, I’ll find you out
I’ll tip and sway to see you in a place
where I might not think to look if
I hadn’t taken time to see.

I’ll see you in themselves, in hoarse
whispers asking, just asking, never
hearing a reply.

You in them hold a hand when
no other can be found. I will
see you there, always there, if
only I will look to find you out.

I’ll find you out, you in themselves,
lips cracked in cold too deep
for me to know, me in myself
warm and safe, not knowing
them in you.

You in themselves, I’ll find you out
a place you are at home, a home
in us all, a place I can see if only
I tip and sway to find you out.

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Author’s Note:

Taking a challenge from Tweetspeak Poetry and Every Day Poems.

Every Day Ideas: First Line Poem Starters: I chose a line from Terce by Malachi Black to begin my poem.

Did you know poems show up in my mailbox every day? They can show up in your e-mail, too. Check it out at Every Day Poems. Then you can write poems, too.

Just Peachy

Rolling down
worn wooden planks
the creamy coral orb
came to rest at my feet

Barely kissing my toes
cajoling me to pick it up
I surrendered
raising it to my lips

One should never allow
such cheek to go unanswered

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Author’s Note:
I am playing today with inspiration from Tweetspeak Poetry and Every Day Poems. Today’s poem in my mail box was Inspiration by Kimberlee Conway Ireton, author of The Circle of Seasons. The challenge was to take something from this poem and make it mine. Ireton’s words “worn wooden planks” led me to my poem.

A Poetry Party

Last Thursday night I participated in a poetry writing party. It happened on Twitter and twenty-nine people participated in one form or another. It was sponsored by Tweet Speak Poetry and some amazing poets were present. I was humbled to be in their company.

The writing commenced on the hour with a prompt and each participant tweeted as inspiration well up in us. The creativity lasted for exactly an hour. I never thought I could last the entire time. I was afraid to start. But once I let go and realized how much fun it was, I didn’t want to stop.

The next step can be seen at Tweet Speak Poetry where the tweets from those participating have been woven into poems. And seeing these, I was again inspired.

Below you will see my original tweets in the order I wrote them over the hour.

The last piece below is my sculpting of my tweets into a “final” piece.

My Poetry Tweets As They Happened
I spring on heel wings on tips of blossoms
Shouting to be heard over the din of bursting blooms
She called my name over the ages and the stories told but never heard
And the little pink feathers laying one upon another make me smile
A key to open a lock rusted long ago
freeing my hand to turn, open the iced pink memories
savoring the lush, swallowing the sweet, gulping despair
Lost in want and waiting for the hummingbird
rushing towards a sunset of creamsicle smiles
make no more room than the space we fill with our delight
a daisy chain chained to eternity
it is not gone/it is there under the faded pink blanket throw away the pieces left, the mess/find my hand
sugared ice cracking off my face and hands reaching
a citrine sun burning our skin
smoothing their points, polishing to perfection
sapphires are for kings, lapis for emperors/give me sand to make a glass so clear I can see the stars
So take my hand and we will sing/walking with dragons/ dancing with Homer/ laughing in the blue
The actor will whisper the last words and we will stand
and laughing with Aphrodite
Release the dragon painted in pink forgetting the sugar frosted claws and lay down the tender lute
I like gravy with my biscuits.
Crumbs of simplicity tumble from my lips
.
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Crumbs
I spring with heel wings
on tips of blossoms
shouting to be heard over
the din of bursting blooms

Lost in want
waiting for the hummingbird
savoring the lush
swallowing the sweet
gulping despair

She called my name over the ages
stories told but never heard
little pink feathers
laying one upon another

They are not gone
under the faded pink blanket
throw away the pieces
the mess
find my hand

Make no more room
than the space we fill
with our delight
a citrine sun burning our skin
rushing toward a creamsicle sunset
dancing with Homer
rejoicing in the blue

Sugared ice cracking
absolving hands reaching
a key to open a lock
rusted long ago
hands turning
freeing gentian memories

Sapphires are for kings
lapis for emperors
give me sand
I will fashion glass so clear
we can touch the stars
smoothing their points
polishing them to perfection

The actor will whisper the last words
and we will stand
a daisy chain chained to eternity
laughing with Aphrodite
crumbs of simplicity tumbling from our lips

You can also follow me @leximagines on Twitter.