This is my attempt at a Waltmarie poem for the Weekly Scribblings at PSU, and it was inspired by FFFC #107, which used the image below:
Loss
Go Where?
Once again, it is Quadrille Monday , and we are Going… Going… Gone Poeming. This is also for FOWC: Particular.
Such a warm and sunny day,
Yet stuck at home
With nowhere in particular to go,
What to do with this time, but bide?
Where is life’s map
I was supposed to follow?
I dropped it long ago,
Now we’ve all walked farther away.
Also, I have really fallen off the wagon for Paula’s February Love Me challenge, but here is what I am loving today: the sun, especially getting to, finally, read outside again in my back yard. It had been a while.
In Awe, Appalled
This was inspired by the Sunday writing prompt at MLMM, which is the word “Aghast.” I am combining it with “Same, Same, but Different” using synonyms for these words:
- change
- effect
- skip
- betray
- wonder
Dizzy
Quickly time passes; seconds run
To minutes, years from hours, days
And on and on it goes, always
Ticking off moments one by one.
At what young age had I begun
To be aware of how it whirls
So dizzily, turning that girl
Into a woman? Barely born
And so soon learning then to mourn —
Yet still rejoicing over pearls.
Ash Wednesday
For Frank’s current haikai challenge, I wrote a haibun about Ash Wednesday.
The ashes that are used to mark the foreheads of the faithful, as a sign of repentance, grief yet hope, are the ashes from the burnt palm branches from the previous year’s Palm Sunday. Since Palm Sunday was cancelled for the public last Lent, I wonder which branches were burned. They were burned along with the hope of certain earthly pleasures — a reminder that this was never meant to be anyone’s true home.
Symbol-filled ashes:
Journey to destination
Because life is Lent
Buffalo on the Plain
Ghazal: Folly
After posting the paint-chip ghazal earlier today, I remembered this one, written about a month ago, on January 16, 2021.
Forgive my folly, veritable wells of it!
Let it be written down, say not farewell to it!
Before its end, all pens would use their ink;
Were I given all time, I could not tell of it.
See how the heart makes passion come in waves —
Behold the ocean deep, the ebb and swell of it!
Even if you are not my Beatrice,
Could you not be my Virgil for the hell of it?
Now all that’s left are roses pressed in books:
One such sweet scent — this writer brings to life the smell of it.
Studying History
It’s very nice to be able to write something for 3 prompts among the first things in the morning. This is for Writing Wednesday, FOWC: Given, and MLMM’s Tale Weaver.
Leave It
A haibun for DVerse’s Poetics prompt about war poems. I really wasn’t sure about this category of poems, though I did like “The Charge of the Light Brigade” by Alfred, Lord Tennyson. I also like Wilfred Owen, but as for writing my own….This is what I came up with.
Poetics: Beginning at the End
This poem is for DVerse Poetics and is also partially inspired by FOWC: Issue. The line I used as inspiration is below. Also linking with One-Liner Wednesday / JusJoJan for today.
“Airless and unloved, in the dank basement of the mind” L. Igloria ~ A Reparation Continue reading
