RISE AND FALL – PROMPT #24
This week, to do our part in this poetic economy, we are providing a “two-fer” – two prompts for the price of one. 🙂
Prompt 1: Rising to the occasion.
Prompt 2: Falling short.
You may choose either Prompt 1 OR Prompt 2, but we’re hoping you don’t miss out on the opportunity to rise to the occasion by choosing both. Heck, you can even combine the two if you wish. We’re easy.
Marie Elena’s Attempts
Prompt 1.
Haiku
My instructions were
idiot-proof. But they rose
to the occasion.
Prompt 2
“All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” ~ Romans 3:23
Some do not respect the bible, but most respect Jesus himself.
Our historical Jesus hated sin, but loved sinners.
ALL sinners.
Who are sinners?
All.
Even if I did not believe the bible is God’s word,
I could see the validity of that statement, for
Who has attained perfection?
Whose every thought is good, and clean, and holy?
Whose every move is guided by faith?
Whose every breath is exhaled in love?
In all, all I see is me.
Walt’s Late Arrival – Prompt #1
UP FOR THE GAME
Nodding and dozing
in and out of sleep.
I can’t keep my eyes
from drifting into darkness.
So I sit in my recliner,
feet inclined and my mind
working on rhyme.
All’s right when I sleep,
but I can’t write in my sleep.
A tug and a yawn and
I’m almost gone to dreamland.
But the big hand is on the twelve,
and I delve into the gridiron
games, finally awake enough
to enjoy some zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz….
(Too good to be true)
Walt’s Second Shot – Prompt #2
FALLING SHORT
Routine has been tweaked
(it had wreaked havoc on me).
But I see a light at the end
of a long tunnel, a journey
that had me on pace for a gurney.
But bedtime beckons,
and I reckon I can cop some “Z’s”.
Falling asleep was never a chore,
but the more I seek it, the more
I need to tweak it.
Falling short.
Lets try a little blend of the two with a tri-couples sestet:
They Stood Tall
They should never live in fear.
He could only try to steer,
the ship that these two souls kept sailing.
She would listen close and hear.
They stood tall as they drew near,
the light that kept them both from failing.
by Michael Grove
Really awesome. I like the combination of the two. I may try that!
HIDING IN THE RAIN
Standing in the rain
Couldn’t hide the tears
On his glasses
As a ‘glasses wearer’ I like the mood and imagery of this short piece. It’s a ‘been there, done that’ moment.
Patricia and E. – Thanks for the mention. I wear specs, too. 😀
Ditto what Patricia said!
Sweater Weather
Poke or post
her FB friends
were rising high,
and she felt liked.
Until her life
took a downward turn,
her comments cried
while typing.
Then the curving arms
of a cyber-hug
never truly warm
her shoulders.
I love this one Patricia
Totally agree with Connie!
RETIREMENT
As I prepare to leave my work,
my spirits rise.
That’s no surprise.
As I reflect on all my kids
through all those years,
here come the tears.
I could see a greeting card with this message inside. 🙂
Maybe that will be my new vocation!
I see some wonderful writings!
I posted on my blog:
http://firmlyrooted.blogspot.com/2011/10/alley-and-valley.html
Marie, your second poem prompted a response within me:
“For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh… Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Romans 7:18, 24-25)
In me,
imperfection
bares its ugly claws
snarls with rancid breath
deformity itself, absence of good-
but in Him I have new life, new clothes
gone are my deformities, washed away
freed to find goodness, considered just,
not of my own self but in His perfection-
and so His purity cleanses my impurity
beauty eclipses my damaged soul
virtue annuls my guiltiness
pardoned, forgiven,
in Him alone.
Read the rest of the story at http://wp.me/pXafU-kp.
“beauty eclipses my damaged soul,” I love this line…great poem E!
Two poems in one day! I guess my muse has returned! Here’s one about rising above AND falling short:
FOOTBALL
Kickoff punts adrenaline
through my living room
on Sunday afternoons-
now cheering, now hushed,
every moment a battle,
skill and determination
rush against fumbles and flails,
uniforms empty-handed in the dirt,
hopes prostrate on crumbling turf,
one team’s win intercepted
by that day’s rising champions.
{And might I add, go Patriots!}
Not quite right on the syllables, maybe in its next life.
Expression
The fervent pastor paces as he preaches
Back and forth faster as he teaches
Repeating himself to get the point across
Worshipful hearts give birth to praise
Thoughts are good starts but it’s time to raise
Your hands and voices and give thanks for the cross
Absolutely, Connie. Reminds me of Mary who was doing the right thing by sitting at the feet of Jesus. That’s the place to be. Nice poem. 🙂
MIRACLE
Illusion of rising moon
renders me speechless.
Night’s pale light
shed faithfully.
Silver-spun waves,
ocean trips gracefully
along a steady shore;
falling swiftly
into it’s next rotation.
And I hold on.
Even though I know
the miracle of it all
will not end
will not fail.
©Hannah Gosselin
Marie, your reflections on prompt two are both genuine and inspiring. Thank you for being so authentic. Warm Sunday smiles flowing your way!
And the latter of the statement to Marie, goes for the rest of you! Happy “Blooming,” too!
My always-uplifting Sweet Hannah! Same to you!
meg
Thank you!!
A three-fer from Jane Shlensky!
(1)
Underpinning
Her new girdle and
Bra buttressed her to rise to
One more occasion.
Bad Timing
She called it grace under fire,
this swallowing the worst
and painting on a smile,
her attentions focused on others,
her sobs caught like fish in a basket,
until the guests went home.
(2)
Grace (double shadorma)
When I feel
grand about myself
(compared with
yesterday),
I still know how far short I’ve
fallen from God’s plan.
Perfection
is lost on people
like me who
fear that grace
makes us lazy, instead of
seeking forgiveness.
Jane, I felt as if you were writing for me this week. Wonderful poems.
Fantastic responses so far! Hoping Walt will soon be well enough to join back in the fun. Until then, we can at least give him the best of what he loves.
meg
Oh Good, I think I snuck in unnoticed. Now, I’m heading to bed. Good Night All.
Unnoticed? Fat chance. 😉
Hope you slept well and, perhaps, are still snoring away.
Good stuff up there, btw…
meg
I second that! Hope you slept well. Smiles to you.
Confined by self-doubt
inner fear wanting out
yet
a snail’s outer shell
protects her quite well
so
small steps she’ll strive
to this struggle survive.
Love this one.
Prompt #24
Old Cat (The Rise)
Old cat yowls from high
limb of a
Japanese
maple, three feet tall. Step-stool
saved child’s scare-dy cat.
A Moment in Time (The Fall)
In
the
relay
race of life,
step back to enjoy
the moment. Never fall short.
What a difference a few feet make.
I like the idea of it being a “relay race of life”. I know I’ve handed off the baton and let a friend or two run for me a while along my journey.
Thanks Shannon. Well put.
Okay, Mike. I could not resist.
Quick Save
I cannot leave trust to my eyes
for I surely must be wise
to your true feelings, shown on your face.
I decide to chance a quick peek
and I blanch at the mien of a sneak
who will leave me in a dark, low place.
Impossible Expectations
In her mind
I hung the stars,
I polished the moon,
I whispered the bird’s song.
She doesn’t see
the cracks in my frame,
how rain can seep through,
how mud cakes my shoes.
If she only knew
how deep my scars run
how nothing is perfect,
how seams come undone.
Maybe I could shelter her
from the inevitable
disappointment.
Beautiful poem, Shannon.
This one…word choice and feeling behind it got me wicked the other day when I read it. SO close to home. Being a mama is deffinately tricky. We certainly have to allow ourselves to be human and forgive ourselves too. This is why I refrained from commenting on this one the other day…verbose! Nice one, Shannon! 🙂
Building Momentum
In the midst of the storm
rain-pelted, dress torn,
take a step forward.
If your eyes turn to slits,
crying starts but won’t quit,
take a step forward.
At the end of the day
and all turns dismally gray,
take a step forward,
and another
and a few more.
Keep it going.
Momentum is everything.
AFIELD
Weightless
gravity-defying
milkweed,
innumerable,
floating, flying;
silk-spun clusters.
Becoming alive
with the breeze.
Rising, to altitudes
immeasurable.
Ascending and descending
both integral in fulfilling
promise of life.
Flight and grounded footing
both essential
in acquiring dreams.
©Hannah Gosselin
My first thought on this prompt yesterday was milkweed but then I decided to write of the moon. Today I went on a hike with my sister for her birthday and we chanced upon a milkweed field! Beautiful beyond description.
Smiles and happy Columbus day!
That’s a WOWZER!
Patricia!! Thanks so much!!! I really appreciate it! 🙂
I concur!
I thought “I concur!” would appear just below Patricia’s praise…
Thank you very much, Shannon!! Much appreciated!!! 🙂
Sweet Hannah, you are still my all-time favorite nature poet. It gives me huge, warm, Hannah-esque smiles to see you writing again!
meg
Oh, this is the sweetest!! Thank you, Marie! Your encouragement is such fodder for this poets heart! ❤
I’m SOOO not a limerick writer…but this one wouldn’t leave me alone….
THE RISE AND FALL
There once was a lady by the lake
For special occasions she’d offer to bake
Her soda was old
And oven too cold
Which left her with a very flat cake.
2011-10-10
P. Wanken
Giggle giggle
meg
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Falling
what does that mean?
falling short
is that a poke
at the vertically challenged?
that’s not funny
or is it the punchline
to a politically incorrect joke
about a Native American name?
that’s not funny either
falling a short distance
just might be a good thing
dust off your knees
and hop tall again
what I worry about is
falling behind
I’ve got emails to send
papers to grade
poems to post
a novel to write
and my butt is sagging
“falling a short distance/ just might be a good thing” I like that a lot.
Occupation
It has been nice to see America with legs again.
Faces, a cardboard mob protesting insecurity and inequality,
revolting against perceived corporate greed.
The sports teams keep letting them down
but they are more concerned with their government letting them down,
getting queen sized sheets for the medical tents,
heavy tarps for when the weather comes,
the 1% and all that money no one can find.
They marched on the Liberty Bell
although no one died or even turned to fire,
not a single second of police brutality.
Who do you think you are now?
says the Dali painting from the floor.
You look the same to me,
the dusty Nomar Garciaparra baseball card.
The real challenge isn’t the Northeast Extension
or the move south,
but it is putting rubber on the tiles in that basement
without falling back to the knees that crawled out of it
and when did this become about you, dumbo?
This city breathes differently than the mountains.
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In the spirit of this prompt, I came up with a twofer too! Here’s the link to my rising and falling haiku.
I expect to write more this week about risings and fallings. Thank you!
What a plethora of wonderful poems to these prompts, specially Walt’s and ME’s, and one or two good laughs on the way. I came late to the party so will have to go in search of inspiration if I am not to fall short.
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FAILING UP
We comb the ground for hazards and carefully
clear the debris. We break up the hard
clay of absolutes and soften it
with gentle words. Their landing
may be rough, but any damage
repairable with strong will,
a little dusting off, some careful shaking out.
A dirt cloud rises at impact
and clouds a watery vision.
The impressionistic sky looks awfully
far away and heavy limbs
sink with the impression of Lilliputian ties.
But better to fall short than fall long,
where a safe landing can stretch
woozy limbs to new heights.
It requires dedication and practice,
this Art of failing up.
Beautifully crafted. Welcome to Poetic Bloomings, Katie!
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Falling Short
It keeps happening: I reach the end of Fahrenheit 451
and the last page has been ripped out, then listening
to a tape of Dr. Zhivago, right as Lara comes into view,
he reaches for the cord to stop the bus—and the tape breaks.
The alarm I meant to set for 4 a.m. was actually set for 4 p.m.
and I woke to the doorbell as the cab arrived for the airport.
The Christmas gift I ordered arrived on the twenty-seventh,
hours after their car pulled out of our driveway for home.
I thought of the perfect Halloween costume—in November—
and the punch line that had them rolling on the floor
suddenly made me laugh—after I got back to the house.
In my nightmares, my Jeopardy signal button lags behind.
But when the minister asked, “Does anyone know any reason
why these two should not be joined. . . ?” I leapt from my pew.
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Elizabeth, you wrote two beauties on two of my favorite topics: God and football. 😉 Love them both!
meg
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