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

.

.

.

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

.

.

.

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

.

.

.

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?

Inhale

In this story, she knows no fear.
Softness of last light crosses her cheek.

The hush of evening’s calm enters her,
spirals inward, down. An afterthought

of day’s swiftness tumbles into moist earth
beneath her bare feet. His caress tenders a longing

deep within her being, this story hers, eyes closed
to what is, inhales all that could be.

.

.

.

Author’s Note:

Today a little challenge from Tweetspeak Poetry and Everyday Poems. Use a line from a poem that shows up in my morning e-mail from Everyday Poems and create one of my own.

Valentine’s Day and the first line from the poem Khaleesi Says by Leah Umansky, author of Domestic Uncertainties, is my inspiration.

10 Resolutions from Citizens for a Saner Internet—and Life

The 8th Day of Christmas
CSI-Sidebar

 

Author’s Note:
I spent yesterday, January 1 not writing. I read and rested and thought. A quiet snowy day, very cold. A good rest day.

I am posting this from Tweetspeak’s Citizens for a Saner Internet and Life as my 8th Day of Christmas post, my new year’s resolve, and a hopes of helping others to a more positive, luscious life this year.

 

 

 

10 Resolutions from Citizens for a Saner Internet—and Life

We resolve to:

1. Consider sharing three beautiful posts for every negative post we feel we must share.

2. Share angry posts only if they significantly contribute to an important conversation.

3. Understand anger as important, a red flag type emotion, that loses its strength if all we ever do is feel angry.

4. Write headlines that are intelligent, witty, or intriguing without exhausting our readers by frequently playing the “outrage card” to get click-throughs.

5. If we feel we want to listen to an angry Internet conversation for what it may be able to teach us about a subject, we resolve to do so silently for a “waiting period,” in a stance of learning rather than one of defense and counterattack.

6. We will not link to attack journalism from our websites, so as not to give more power to the writer or website of said journalism.

Related, we will not link to or re-share iterative journalism, which is a sloppy form of journalism designed to deliver a “scoop” that may have no foundation yet in truth.

(Insider tip: you know you are being “played” through iterative journalism when you see its typical words and phrases: “according to a tipster, hearing reports, escalating buzz, is reporting, likely, still a mystery, reports are”)

7. Consider ways to move beyond the “page view model” of Internet sustainability (which is one reason attack or sensationalist journalism is often pursued by individuals and websites, because it can result in high page views, which can translate into staying financially sustainable. Yes, it might be time to actually subscribe to The New York Times!).

8. Get offline for periods of rest—optimally, one offline day a week and getting offline by a certain cutoff time in the evenings—and use this time to cultivate face-to-face relationships, read, exercise, or otherwise interact with the world around us (we recommend cinnamon toast as part of the deal ;-) )

9. If we are unsure about our own angry or sensationalistic post on a subject, we will first pass the post by trusted friends who come from different viewpoints, in a more private setting, before deciding whether to hit the publish button.

10. If we have been online for hours and are finally simply “surfing” because we feel lonely or unfocused, we will get offline and spend time with people face-to-face, read, exercise, play, or delve deeply into a new interest-area… one that will seriously challenge us and open up new avenues for our learning and our lives.

My poem for the 9th Day of Christmas will soon appear. Blessings.

And the winners are……

First of all, happy first day after NaPoWriMo. It was a wonderful experience that I hope to continue at
least a few times a week until next April.

Thank you to all my wonderful visitors!

Now for the winners of my books for The Big Poetry Giveaway 2014.

Drum roll please!

Love-Etc                              insideoutcover                              41AlPMbGYSL

Yay to Simply Darling! Love, Etc. by L.L. Barkat

Hurrah for clbeyer! Inside Out Poems by L.L. Barkat

And a What Ho! to rachelthomson24! The Alphabet Not Unlike the World Poems by
Katrina Vandenberg

I will be contacting you to get your addresses.

 

Then your lovely books of poetry will be winging their way to you very soon! Please drop me a note when you receive them.

Thank you all. Please keep in touch.

 

The Big Poetry Giveaway, 2014, Part 2

Good day, all!

I’ve decided to add another book to my giveaway. Yay!

L.L. Barkat is launching her new book of poetry, Love, Etc., this coming Monday, April 14, 2014. Stop by Tweekspeak Poetry and see all the happenings. What fun! They are on Facebook, too.

Love-Etc

It is such a lovely work, I decided it needs to be added to my giveaway list. Check out my review by Lex at Amazon and buy a copy for yourself or to give away.

Want to win a free copy?  Go to my original post, The Big Poetry Giveaway, 2014 , just leave a comment with your e-mail or blog address so if you win, I know how to contact you. Drawing will take place the first week of May.

Need more information? Visit The Big Poetry Giveaway, 2014 at their page. It’s a fun thing to do this National Poetry Month.

And while you’re here I cordially invite you to scroll around my page. I am participating in NaPoWriMo in celebration of poetry this month.

Enjoy!

The Big Poetry Giveaway, 2014

Those of you who know me remember my joy and frustration and joy after completing two straight years of NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). I have two novels awaiting my editing pen. I will get there. Someday. Sadly, this past year I was not able to participate.

However, I’ve been writing poetry. And NaPoWriMo (National Poetry Writing Month) whispered my name.

napo2014button2

To celebrate this month of poetry, I decided to participate and commit to writing a new poem every day. In addition to writing and because I also enjoy reading poetry, I took the poetry dare from Tweetspeak Poetry. I was given the name of a poet I have never read. I promise to read one poem a day by that poet during the month of April.

Tonight while poking around a few hours before April 1 entered the scene, I discovered The Big Poetry Giveaway, 2014.  So I decided to share the wealth and greet the month with a giveaway!

big poetry giveaway 2014

My Giveaway

I do not yet have a book of poems published to give away, although two of my monologues can be found in print.  So until my poetry appears on the printed page, I will giveaway one copy each of two of my favorite poetry collections in hopes they will become a favorite of yours, too.

InsideOut: Poems by L.L. Barkat, managing editor at Tweetspeak Poetry, is my first giveaway.  It is a graceful journey through a year. Her words are beautiful, simple, and elegantly crafted. These are poems to savor with a lovely cup of tea by your side.insideoutcover

The Alphabet Not Unlike the World by Katrina Vandenberg is my second giveaway. A trip through the alphabet brings laughter and wisdom on a ride that you won’t want to end.

41AlPMbGYSL

How To Enter

If you would like to be entered in my drawing, just leave a comment below with your name and blog address so I can contact you. If you don’t have a blog, please leave me your e-mail address.

The giveaway ends April 30th, 2014 (PST). Winners will be chosen the week of May 1 with the books being mailed to you shortly thereafter. Good luck!

Here is a link to the Big Poetry Giveaway, 2014 with more detailed rules, especially if you would like to participate in giving poetry away, too!

You are also warmly welcomed to visit my Home page to read my poetry. Leave a note. I’d love to hear from you.

Kismet

he made a pair of shoes like Dorothy’s
to lead you home when you are through

grey, like a man’s with bright red trim
on the left lights compass the beat

the right side sports three blinking eyes
a pledge to return one safely

ahead of the night’s bone chilling
in tune with Dorothy’s lament

I prefer my crimson red sway
bold radiance lighting my path

no stepping lightly I have little fear
of centaurs and monstrosity

my crimson reds boldly present
me to the dance no graves to smite

no need for guided travel
one perfect route is not my way

my red slippers do not blush
but blaze a course to kismet
.
.
.
.

Author’s Note

I always find it interesting how stories collide in my life.

Yesterday, as I was driving home from school, Judy Garland crooned one of my favorite songs as I was listening to the news on NPR. It seems that a British artist, Dominic Wilcox, has created a new type of ruby slippers, ones that will actually get you home. Amazing and creative technology mixed with art, you have to smile.

Arriving home with little more than an hour before my book club meeting, I decided to visit TweetSpeak Poetry.  The beginning of the school year is very busy and doesn’t allow me the luxury of my daily visit and writing challenge.  I so look forward to the Tweetspeak muses. They inspire me. I miss them.

A lovely image by Nicola Slattery and poem by Maureen Dollas greeted me at Image-ine: Red Shoes.  A Picasso-esque figure  sits dreaming over a pair of red shoes. The portrait is just what pleases my eye. It is not too sentimental in that the colors limit themselves, bright with a touch of melancholy. The roundness of the figure gives a soft touch. Yet I glean something serious, maybe a wondering of what more there is to life with the possibility sitting at her fingertips?

The two stories collided and, hopefully, normalcy will soon return and I will be back to Tweetspeak and writing with regularity.

Colors

Everyone who knows me knows that I love purple. Every shade, tint, and hue. From the darkest, deepest perse of the midnight sky to the fainting amethyst of the last stalk of lavender before the first frost.

We have an oil of a purple mandala hanging above our fireplace. A flower, sublimely painted by an artist friend of ours, Clayton Peterson. The raindrops are spectacular.

But around the house other colors abound. An almost-neon seascape print with an apricot sunset graces our walls alongside a kaleidoscope rabbit painted in thick oils on a reclaimed board as its canvas.

The remaining pieces in our house, though, have very little color in them. My eyes must need a rest. I am strongly drawn to monochromatic hues in browns and pale yellows or grays.

And not to forget the other “colors” in which I imbibe, I delight in a spectrum of sparkles.  I’m six-years-old again as I ooh and aww at the Crown Jewels in the Tower of London or while making a wish to try on those red ruby slippers of Dorothy’s. I love to run my hand through piles of rainbow colored sequins and watch them catch the light as they cascade through my fingers.

At Tweetspeak Poetry, Clair Burge shared some of her delicious photos in her post Image-ine: color seduction. The colors she captured make me want to re-paint each and every wall in my house. And all the chroma would be plucked from her radiant photos.

While I can’t do that, I can share my poem. A poem of hope as Clair suggested? Maybe not, but one of love.

Yellow

1
When the indifferent world
awoke this morn
I reached to your sallow hand
resting gently on your breast
rising and falling with each shallow breath

The creamy silk of your kimono
spread across your refuge
an amber pyre
igniting your shrinking frame

I remember the rustling
of your saffron skirts
bustling through the room
a memory fading over the years

I am anxious this last sunrise
not be remembered
by your diminishing countenance
but by your luscious laughter
halcyon rose petals
steeping the air
with your sweetness

2
Through the wheaten sheers
the glint of mid-day dances
across your motionless face
lighting citrine sparks through
your flaxen curls
encircling your head
a glimmering crown framing
your once aureate smile

I celebrate the memory of your radiance
lingering in the afternoon garden
daffs and calla lilies
blushing at your touch

3
Eventide brings a calming
of the brilliant splendor
in your now honeyed cheeks

My lips touch those
you once sweetened with quince
Aphrodite perfuming her kiss
a kiss now absolute

Unobtrusively
in a whisper
mortality meets perfection
your candlelight dissolves
Into a waxen pool

Luminosity greets you
leaving behind
a tawny afterglow
lighting the darkness
of my soul