awakening

Awakening

aroma rose from the white china cup


balanced on the palm of her hand sans saucer
the porcelain was thin thin
enough to almost see through
definitely enough to know the level of liquid

 

ah yes coffee
the most important meal of the day

 

the ethereal rose through the kitchen carried on morning birdsong up the stairs curling round the corner into the bedroom where his head just his head emerged from an avalanche of white down covers and pillows almost as see through as the china cup only softer not as smooth the cotton had its eccentricities small bumps along each thread that made it interesting unique different yet altogether the same

 

it’s all in the game

 

she would arise ridiculously early in the dark
she posed her body still in front of the opened window waiting waiting
for bird far away calling her to alarm
before sun rose
before moon faded gaunt then thinned into blue sky brightening

 

when she heard the purling it meant the end of another day a day to put in the books as one more tumbled open the elapsed cracked broken crumbled into delicate shards of what was that exact moment bird announced the dawning

 

they knew
stupid deaths
the frightfully funny game

 

fog of coffee
settled into his nostrils
a smelling salts awakening him from stillness
he would be startled breathe deeply
eyes cracking open one at a time
one gift to keep him from
over reaching over reacting over doing anything

 

it’s not hard when you’re smart and beautiful

 

as cup balanced more birds joined until a chorus loud she felt protected circled by so many mamas and papas organizing their day around their babies she was the baby of her family and this was her deepening into day

 

it’s all in the game

 

bounding run down stairs
a grab of the backpack with one hand
a catch with the other the apple that had been perfectly balanced on top
he was gone with the slam of the door

 

no problem
have fun

 

and
she
bent
down
down
to pick up fragile shards of the china cup
that was once filled with aroma of awakening

 

no problem
have fun

. . . . .

Author’s Note:

Wednesday brought our writing group together once more. Our prompt challenge was to bring anything for a prompt. So these were the lines shared to use as we wished. Happy writing.

Ah yes, coffee. The most important meal of the day.
They knew. Stupid deaths. The frightfully funny game.
No problem. Have fun.
It’s not hard when you’re smart and beautiful.
It’s all in the game.

 

For the child before STEM who will be forgotten

STEM

 

If you think it only happens in schools
It happens outside, too
After almost all the children have gone home
Near the playground
A gun in the hand of a teen

For the child who will be forgotten
For many reasons
For the child who doesn’t have the press
A life still lost
A life still mourned by a family who does not
Know why it happened
The night before more mourning

It happens so many times a day and we
Look the other way
Words of sorrow flow
Prayers are offered
Condolences given

And it continues
And life goes on
And no one will do anything
But sigh
Shed a few tears
Offer a few sweet words of hope
And then forget until
Tomorrow
When it happens again

Forgotten
in less than twenty-four hours
The other child who died
At the hand of a gun

Author’s Note:
A teen’s life was lost last night near Independence Elementary, less than 24 hours before the STEM shooting. Another teen with a gun. Just 21 miles away. A world away.

And for all the others we will never hear about…

 

Red

Red

Sisters Sun and Moon, detail by Lex Leonard

 

You’ll look pretty as a picture in this, Red.
Sun hides behind clouds longing to shine through,
except that she wouldn’t.

Unable to warm soil, words hinder
poppy sprouts anew.
You’ll look pretty as a picture in this, Red.

Memories held inside her frame injure.
She longs to break the glass of that view,
except that she wouldn’t.

A spark of flame leaves but only a cinder,
too dark to see what she really knew.
You’ll look pretty as a picture in this, Red.

His words she gathers unhindered
and places them carefully to later pursue,
except that she wouldn’t.

New moon gives rise for her to surrender
to stillness within safe solitude.
You’ll look pretty as a picture in this, Red.
Except that she wouldn’t.

 

 

Author’s Note:

Oh, the poetic form! It’s always worth a try.

From today’s NaPoWriMo challenge…

The classic villanelle has five three-line stanzas followed by a final, four-line stanza. The first and third lines of the first stanza alternately repeat as the last lines of the following three-line stanzas, before being used as the last two lines of the final quatrain. And to make it an even more virtuoso performance, Dargan’s alternating lines, besides being taken from songs, express “opposing” ideas, with one being about sleeping, and the other waking.

Following Dargan’s lead, today we’d like to challenge you to write a poem that incorporates at least one of the following: (1) the villanelle form, (2) lines taken from an outside text, and/or (3) phrases that oppose each other in some way. If you can use two elements, great – and if you can do all three, wow!

My lines are taken from a book I am currently reading. I picked it up, opened to a random page and pointed. There were the two lines side by side from The Great Alone by Kristin Hannah that just happened to be “opposing” ideas. I kid you not: You’ll look pretty as a picture in this, Red. Except that she wouldn’t.

Feint

download

 

Little bee
you came out
almost
too soon,
winter’s trickster feint

But sun is warm
bones thaw
you move again with grace
about your daily chores

Your wings loose
and stretch
ready for flight

Violas call
You cleave

And I ride your back
honeymeade our drink
eternity our design

Misnomer

napo2019button1

 

Misnomer

I walk to hear birds

They are back
after winter break
building nests, returning
in sunrise I hear them
distant

Squeaky chatter
you tip your wing
a glimpse of orange golden glow
Sits atop

How can there be seagulls in Colorado?

sea….gulls

I am told there are no such things as
sea…gulls,
a misnomer

They are opportunistic
Make homes near reservoirs
Cold is no bother
as long as they are well fed

They also live in the Arctic

gulls

Simply
gulls


I wonder which they
prefer?

Colors

napo2019button1

 

Shaman Dreams, detail, by Lex Leonard

Shaman Dreams, detail, by Lex Leonard

First you learn to see
hues and tints
shadows and light
they are always there
not always noticed

Let go of what
you think you see, what you
want to see. Allow for unexpected
to surprise you

It will

You watch, without
judgement, without need

See, it will unfold
invite you into a new
way of being

 

Authors Note:

Happy National Poetry Month and Glo/NaPoWriMo!