A winter poem for Poets United.
White fog lingering
In the air this early morning
Is as close
As we will get to snow:
It holds me closer
Than mittens or scarves
And is cold enough
To my southern-California blood —
Right now I think of
Hot chocolate, sleigh rides —
Later I will take off my coat
And drink iced tea.
This poem is linked to Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday. I used 3 words that contain the letters “ght.” This post doesn’t look like a stream-of-consciousness, but I wrote this pretty quickly and did not edit it at all.
Authenticity is a bright light
In a world littered with black and gray,
A beacon beckoning to those lost
In rolling seas, somewhere along the way,
A life-preserver for those drowning
In interminable lists of shoulds and oughts:
Authenticity is a once-sunken treasure
That can never be completely forgot.
At DVerse, we are exploring the question as poetry. I was inspired by these questions from Pablo Neruda: “Where can you find a bell that will ring in your dreams?” and, less directly, “Who sings in the deepest water in the abandoned lagoon?”
Where can you find a bell that will ring
In your dreams? Is there a voice to hear
Underneath the deepest water? Sing,
And let the questions bring no more fear.
What had been abandoned, found once more,
Due to courage, found in heart and will:
The notes will form a glorious chord
Ringing, dreams enlivened, dark voids filled.
Leaving — red-eye flight
Reddening eyes from crying
Autumn rains — red leaves
For Frank J. Tassone’s haikai prompt about fall foliage / red leaves (momiji),
I walk on cloud, stumbling into pools of moonlight
And lakes of midnight, stars’ eyes
Creating an Argus in the sky —
Watch me in wonder as I wander
a a r
m l d o y
i l
t
To the banks of our galactic river —
“A land flowing with milk and honey.”
I decided to post this and share it with Real Toads’s “Try Everything” prompt, since I rarely write something this “creatively” formatted. This is basically a stream-of-consciousness poem, written a few days ago, and I’m not quite sure where it came from. What does it mean to you?
For this week’s “Heeding Haiku”, we are writing about stormy weather.
Denying the storm
An unwise course of action:
She lies in the eye.
This is for Fandango’s flash-fiction challenge #30. I wasn’t going to share this but figured might as well. 🙂
The hourglass is glued to the table.
It has blue sand all fallen through,
Unable to be flipped anew.
This sea of sand, these waves of time
Will rest one day; take some time to mind
Its passing, its tides, its blue beautified.
