I am in a coffee shop right now, and the song “Hey Jude” by the Beatles came on. I wrote a poem about it and only then saw that today’s poetics prompt from DVerse is about song lyrics!
Hey, you, let it out to let it in.
Remember — to let him
Into your heart, and
Under your skin;
For someone to perform with.
Pray for me,
O saint of hopeless cases.
It is quadrille Monday again at DVerse! Today’s word is dream.
Dreams are strange things:
And what do they say,
When we’re asleep?
Reaching high and loftily,
Diving deep, subconsciously,
They symbolize the keenest cries
Of Soul’s profound desires.
They wish when we awake
We light the fires.
Jilly’s is hosting a collaborative poetry opportunity this August, and this poem is the completed version of Frank Hubeny’s poem Lady, Green and Red. His half is in blue, and my addition is in red.
Lady loved the plants’ light green
With flowers brightly red.
Her face angelically serene
Had leaves to shade her head.
The leaves become her regal crown,They bend to do her will,She wears her beautiful red gown,But she is silent, still.
This was written in response to day 26 of Jilly’s 28 Days of Unreason challenge. The quote was, “On some clear nights in the country the stars can exhaust us” ~ Jim Harrison
I saw stars every summer when I went camping. Late at night, my friends and I would like on top of a large rock, talking, looking up at the sky. Without the glaring artificial lights, we’d take in the amazing sight of a sky full of stars. We could not identity every constellation, but how amazing it was that there were so many, hidden when we were in the city!
I no longer go camping — the stars’ beauty is relegated to memory — but in some ways I am still resting on that rock as I remember:
Though we cannot see,
We have friends in high places
Looking down at us.
This poem was written in response to day 25 of Jill’s 28 Days of Unreason series. The quote for today is, “The river can’t heal everything” ~ Jim Harrison
I decided to write a haibun with a twist: instead of a haiku at the end, I wrote a tanka.
Also, this was posted for DVerse’s latest OLN.
There is a story in the Bible about a vision that the prophet Ezekiel had of a river in the temple: The water begins as a trickle and then rises as he walks along, to his ankles and then even higher. This water is the life of God, lived in the Spirit, quenching the most profound thirst.
But! Careful with me —
I yearn for this water; still
It rises over
My head, and only in dreams
Can I breathe underwater.
A poem for DVerse. We are writing about shade today, and the poem must have the word “shade” in it. I decided to write two cinquains.
From searing heat of day,
I hear it bid me welcome in
Cover me with caring:
It is okay to cry under
Today at DVerse, we are writing haibuns based on the Japanese concept of Wabi-Sabi, which is described as “the art of imperfection.”
I look at a chipped teacup, a broken seashell, cracks in the concrete, even a dying flower and see beauty: poignant, ineffable, intriguing, unique. On every piece of nature are God’s fingerprints, infinite. Let me extend this knowledge to my own body, a temple of personal, imperfect and perfect beauty.
Springtime’s trees flower,
Jacaranda’s purple blooms
Dress the cracked sidewalk.