In LINE MESSAGING poetry, the final line of each stanza may be compiled to create an entirely new poem with its own independent message (a poem within a poem). It appears there are no rules for number of stanzas, or rhyme scheme. This form was created by Angel Favazza.
See Shadow Poetry for more on LINE MESSAGING
MARIE ELENA’S ATTEMPT
David
He considers profoundly The beauty before him, Knowing she belongs to another. He uses his authority to order her Husband to the front lines. He feels no remorse For death in war is honorable. Yes? Besides, What does it profit a man If the perks of royalty elude him? He is convinced his king-heart is selfless; That his royal power is used For the wellbeing of his people, And not as a means To gain the world And all therein. He seeks only what is best for this worthy creature. Surely he could give her what Uriah could not. Surely for this precious gem, Uriah would be willing to give his life And forfeit his soul. © Copyright Marie Elena – 2013 Independent Message: What does it profit a man To gain the world, And forfeit his soul? (Mark 8:36) I have to admit that this was one of the hardest forms I’ve ever attempted. Walt, yours is nothing short of amazing. ~ Marie ElenaWALT’S MESSAGE:
A HEART IN THE SILENCE OF LOVE
Silence is a comforting companion,
a reminder that peace soothes
and love is the cure for
a heart left to languish.
Even when it seems to be hopeless,
you find a way to embrace
life as the gift it is,
you are not far from
living to the fullest
in the throes of a lifetime love,
Fondness of heart strengthens
in the absence of it, But above it all
you know that life is in the living,
and love is found in the giving.
For it is the truest of hearts that
never feels abandoned for lack of it
© Copyright Walter J Wojtanik 2013
The independent (poem) message:
LOVE LIVES ON
A heart left to languish
in the throes of a lifetime love,
never feels abandoned for lack of it
© Copyright Walter J Wojtanik 2013
POETIC BLOOMINGS 
Responses
These are both so good! Marie, my pastor just read that very scripture two weeks ago. I really like your take on the prompt and your narrative style!
Walt, I agree with Marie: your poem is nothing short of amazing! How you do it every week, giving us examples, is beyond me. I love this poem!
Safe Haven
Bitter winds froze the tears on her cheeks.
In misery she cursed the sky,
Calling down thunder, lightning storm;
She stood on the brink of a precipice,
Teetering perilously close
To the black depths stretched below her;
Nothing in this world could comfort her,
She stood there,
Wrapped in despair.
Why try to be brave, to bear the pain?
For pain was all that was left for her;
Why try to believe it was all God’s plan, her
Sorrow unfathomable?
She edged closer, closer still,
But her Father saw, and heard her cries,
Saw the bitter tears that fell, caught her up in His arms;
That black abyss had all but claimed her,
Until He wrapped His arms around her:
Security and comfort giving
To her broken, tear stained soul;
And in His strong arms she rested easily:
Safe haven, peace enveloped.
© Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013
Independent Message;
She stood on the brink of a precipice,
Wrapped in despair,
Sorrow unfathomable;
Until He wrapped His arms around her:
Safe haven, peace enveloped.
…”Safe haven, peace enveloped.” Beautiful!
Thanks, Hen! It even makes me feel peaceful to write lines like that. Glad you liked it! 🙂
Oh my … how quickly and easily you pen heart-encouraging beauty. Goodness!!
Shaking my head in awe.
Marie Elena
Aw, thank you Marie! I really like the Wednesday prompts. Once I have a certain form or idea in my head, it’s hard not to keep writing! Thanks for reading.
Erin this is BEAUTIFUL! Well done!
Thanks, Janet! That means a lot!! 😀
Such power and grace in one poem. Exquisite, Erin. Lovely.
I’m so glad you liked it, Claudsy! Your approval means much to me. Hugs to you!
Aw, Erin, don’t wait for my approval. You don’t need it, really. You do just fine on your own. But I’m glad that you’re enjoying your writing. That’s more important than anything else or anyone’s approval.
Lovely, Erin
Thanks, Debi!
Erin Kay,
you did it today! Lovely!
Yay, Damon’s back! Thanks for reading and commenting!
What Have We Done?
We hear the critics who put God down.
His Son’s name being taken in vain.
Though we feel offended, we do not speak.
Our silence causes God much pain.
But in our minds we rationalize
Make excuses to justify.
And God asks us why.
Yet we deny
Every day, God’s name is belittled.
We listen quietly as others laugh.
Yet, we stand not in His defense.
It’s a shame, He died on our behalf.
We speak not, because we fear
That our so-called friends might hear
About our God, so near
Our God, so dear.
Still we doubt God’s awesome power
We take Him for granted every day
He’s proven Himself time after time
Yet, we question, even when we pray.
We forget the things He’s done.
We neglect Jesus, His Son.
He is the Chosen One
What have we done?
Independent Message
Yet we deny
Our God, so dear
What have we done?
Copyright © Earl Parsons 2013
So true, Earl! Why indeed…
Sad, but true.
Amen and amen.
Marie Elena
Earl, sobering message! The world is full of Peter’s denying Him through our silences, isn’t it?
Good questions, all, Earl. Needful poem and a message worth its weight. Nice job.
We are but dust, I hope He understands.
Earl,
true and sad. It’s as if He is so dear and near, we treat him as a possession we don’t want to give away. How selfish we remain, even after grace after grace.
It’s tricky, but I like it. Thank you both for giving us such lovely examples as always, Walt and Marie. Here’s my attempt for the day.
Watchers
Morning’s sunrise promise
Leads to whispered stories
To all who’ll listen at fires
Within each day’s shadows.
History’s stories loom, always
As shadow puppets on walls
Tantalizing children to
Watch those who have designs.
Night’s stealth slips through
Slumber’s many visions of
Day’s play, forever planning
On tomorrow’s future dreams.
Independent message::
Within each day’s shadows,
Watch those who have designs
On tomorrow’s future dreams.
Beautiful, Claudsy! I especially love your independent poem. Well done!
Thank you so much, Erin. I’m glad you liked it.
This one was a bit scary…
Scary? I suppose it could be seen that way. But then, isn’t that what parents do at the close of the day; watch their children putting together dreams for them? It’s good to know that it has more interpretations. Thanks, Henrietta, for showing me another side of it.
…we grew up in a household with overprotective parents, Clauds… and then my husband and I were “overworriers” with our kids… I like your intended version 🙂 !!
I’m glad, Hen. We did indeed grow up that way. I remember it too well sometimes.
🙂 !
WOW. Like Walt, your independent message is every bit as stunning and brilliant as the poem in which it resides. Clauds, this is amazing.
Marie Elena
Oh, my. Do you really think so, Marie? I’ve never thought to write one as good as Walt’s. I like this form and it’s a challenge to get things lined up just right. I will say that. Thank you so much for your kind words.
Claudsy, I am blown away. You have dome this form proud!
Aw, Janet. Thank you. I needed to tell a story with this one. I’m glad I succeeded. I’m so glad you liked it.
I think I read this the way Henrietta did, but as a warning not really scary. Very thought provoking. Nice – as usual.
Thanks, Debi. It could well be thought of as a warning, I agree. I don’t know that I intended for such to happen, but it is what you read it to be, as in all poetry.
Claudsy,
I loved this…I sort of felt the warning others mentioned, but really more of a yearning…a yearning to know, to be aware, to calculate the play in our day for what might be waiting in shadows. An anxious cautious yearning, not at all a fear. That’s how I read it, and saw myself around that flickering fire of wonder.
Bless you, Seven. I’m so happy you enjoyed it. That’s quite a tribute. I hope time allows it to stand up to the scrutiny.
Incredible, Claudsy! Powerful message at the end.
Aw, thank you, Sara. I’m so glad that it spoke to you.
Crucified for Me
For my sins He was flogged,
For my transgressions cruelly mocked,
Blameless Lamb of God.
On a tree He was hung,
Bled and suffered and was
Crucified for me.
He lay in a tomb for three days,
My blessed Savior;
Rose again on the third day.
Because of His love I am loved,
Because of His anguish, I am righteous,
Because of Him, I am clean.
© Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013
Independent message:
Blameless Lamb of God,
Crucified for me;
Rose again on the third day;
Because of Him, I am clean.
Painfully beautiful, Erin!
Thanks! ❤
Amen. Thanks be to God!
Marie Elena
Amen and hallelujah!
:)’s and hugs to both of you!!
Marvelous Easter poem, Erin. This one would do your church proud for their service. Love it.
I completely agree with Claudsy. It would be wonderful for a church service.
I thought the same…should be read in church Sunday. The truest message ever, grace summed up in bright hope.
Thanks, you three! Maybe I’ll see about setting it to music one of these days…
Wow, Meg… and, Walt… Gorgeous!!! I will have to let this particular form set in my mind for a while… (also, fostering two sweet, little puppies, so it may take a while) 🙂 !!
Oh, how fun! I wish you were on facebook, Hen, so we could see photos! 😀
Meg
Hee, hee, thanks, Meg, I’ll try to paint word pics!! 😀
You could always write this poem about some of their exploits, Hen. That would be super fun. “A day in the life…” kind of thing. How sweet.
Yes… they are loud and adorable!! 🙂
Puppy Energy
Hush,
don’t wake the little spider
resting outside your playpen
near the Soft-Rock radio music
calming him
as he sits there wishing
he could bark back at you.
Independent Message:
Don’t wake the little spider
as he sits there wishing
he could bark back at you.
🙂 LOVE it!
Ha, ha, ha… thank you, Janet!
Love it, Hen. Sweet and funny. Hard to do in any form. Great job.
Aww, thanks, Clauds, I actually laughed at the image of a barking spider myself… 😀 !!
For some reason, that phrase “Barking Spider” rings a bell for me. Was there a story or something that used that phrase? It’s going to drive me crazy until I remember it. I want you to know that so that when you see me manic and frantic later on, you’ll know why. 🙂 LOL
Claudsy I had to google it to see if there was such a thing… Also known as the “Queensland whistling tarantula” or “barking spider”) S. crassipes is a species of tarantula native to the east coast of Queensland, Australia.
I knew it! My Aussie friend, Kay Bushnell, posted a picture of this little beauty not long ago on my FB timeline. Thanks, Debi. I would have worried over that one until about midnight when I’d move over to Google and look it up. You’ve saved me, girl. I’m in your debt. But I’m broke so make payback easy on me. Okay?
Just another one of your lovely poems will do it I think. 🙂
You think so, do you? Well, who knows. I might come up with something. I make no promises.
Ha, ha, ha… I’m so glad you two put your heads together… fascinating tidbit… 😀 !!
It could be interesting to see what could be done with it. Perhaps a rhyming book for little ones about a barking spider that meets it match and has to outsmart the opponent. Sneaky rather than violent. Smart rather than mean.
Yes!! I Love your idea!! You’ve given me something wonderful to mull around. Thank you, my friend!!
You’re welcome, my friend. Just remind me once in a while what I came up with. Too many projects, too much distraction, all lead to too little memory ability. 🙂
: ) If I could make the smile bigger I would. So sweet and funny.
Ha, ha, ha… again!!! Thank you, Debi, I loved writing this one …!!
Henrietta,
how did you create a character with such CHARACTER as a barking spider with such few simple lines?
THIS is a personality that really belongs in a children’s book.
“Hairy the Barking Spider and His Extra-Webestrial Exploits.”
Ha, ha, ha… I simply sat down near the little fellow (and I guess his sweet, little energy got all over me…) You know, 7, I absolutely Love imagining children’s stories and buying their books for my Granbabies… <3!! Love your title!! Thank you!
Marie and Walt, your wonderful poems inspire the rest of us to bravely attempt this form. Thank-you!
Keeper
Dusk flowers gently over field and hill
Blush pink washes the patch-work quilt of spring
A surge akin to prayer ignites within
The Keeper of each hour tunes the rill
Each season sheds its purpose on the earth
The seed will grow; the chaff be blown away
Love’s Hand sifts through our humbly offered fray
And fills our wanton efforts with His worth
We cannot know the reason of His will
But like each season, joy and sorrow pass
We strain to see beyond this darkened glass
Where mortal imperfections keenly spill
Spring is the season of hope and re-birth
With hand upon the plow we till the sod
Trusting its harvest to a loving God
His faithful eye is over all the earth
(independent message)
The Keeper of each hour tunes the rill
And fills our wanton efforts with His worth
Where mortal imperfections keenly spill
His faithful eye is over all the earth
© Janet Martin
Oh, marvelous, Janet. This is lovely! It has a very traditional feel to it because of the pacing and rhyme, while it also reads like free verse, to me. I don’t know how you managed that, but I’m so glad that you did. A rare pleasure. Thank you.
Oh, this is soo delicately Beautiful, Janet!!
Janet,
wow…that first line, just that first line, calmed me. I love it when a poem grabs and stills my heart. Lovely truth embedded–planted–on every row of words.
I do so love the first verse esp. Beautiful poem.
Thank-you to each one of you!
So beautiful, Janet!! I agree with Damon: your first line’s a knockout!
Springtime of Soul
Depression threatened
to rob springtime from my soul
and exchange it for dust,
only dust.
It wasn’t sunshine,
refreshing rains, birds singing
that transformed me.
God breathed in life.
Emptiness, dryness, tears.
Hopeless
Colors, Fragrance, Music
Miraculous
Only dust
God breathed in life
Miraculous
Wonderful, Connie. This is testament at it’s best. Thank you.
Connie, The contrast from dark to Light as the poem evolves is stunning, then the last 3 lines…simply spectacular!
Yes…
I love your independent message- just beautiful.
Connie,
lovely…that third stanza was like a catch of breath, a gasp, an exhalation, a deep breath, then a soul-filled sigh with the word ‘miraculous.’ What fine poetry.
Wow!! Your independent poem is amazing! So is the other one. Well done, Connie!!!
Healing
I’ve heard it said
That open windows
Even in the middle of winter
With plenty of fresh air is
The cure for anything
And when you have
A sore throat or infected toe-
Gargle or soak-whichever-
The best remedy
Is salt water
For working out problems
Hard work is a tonic
And if your heart is broken-cry
For there is healing in
Tears, sweat
And when life overwhelms
With its ceaseless noise
And solitude you crave,
Go to a wooded place
Or the sea.
“The cure for anything is salt water – tears, sweat, or the sea.” -Isak Dinesen, Seven Gothic Tales
Debi, this is a fantastic quote. I’ve never heard it before and I LOVE the way you shaped it into a beautiful poem!
Thank you
Janet.
“…Or the sea.” Yesss… Beautiful, Debi, just beautiful!!
Debi,
whoa…what a wonderful quote, and you treated it with such deeply known universal certainties. I can’t tell you how many times in the cold winter I’ve gone through and opened the windows of our house to let the old air out and take in the new. Lovely.
Thank you Henrietta.
SevenAcreSky, my grandmother believed in lots of fresh air. She always kept the window in the bedroom cracked in winter and I have to say we were rarely ever sick.
Love the fresh air of a slightly open window in winter!
Awesome poem, Debi! That is a good quote – I’d never heard it before.
Could not agree more.
[…] In-form Poet Wednesday – Line Messaging (poeticbloomings.com) […]
DYLAN THOMAS
How far from gentle
I dragged last legs
into drunken night!
From a dim-lit saloon,
a heart-gripping segue
to a rageless dark…
I’ve had eighteen straight.
On my way words burst
to be born and strung
magically until these hands
quivering fell back.
This clouded mind
resigned to silence
lost count. So many
whiskies. I think that is
something to question
the muse, ask her why
she thirsted, not for
verse, but for a rhythmic
glut of eighteen double scotches:
The record.
In the end,
my last words
should have been
a burning poem
that stood with sword
and dueled against
the dying of the light.
I who caught the moon
and tried to sing it
too late beyond the grief of
Last words.
#
Independent poem message:
“I’ve had eighteen straight
whiskies. I think that is
the record.”
[last words[
Sal,
I felt I was there, stumbling along, with drowning mind and resigning body. Well done.
This one just sounds really sad to me…well written, Sal…
This hurt…
Sad tone, but a beautiful poem.
Wonderful, Sal. wow
After reading the wonderful ones above, I hesitated to post my effort. This is a form I’ll try often again. Here’s my first try.
——————
Francis’ Plea
Answer me,
you vast dark night!
I hear the rumbles and
feel the threat of
war.
With black fright on my sky.
a heavy quiet
goes awry.
Speak,
oh say…
And flash!
You answer.
Not the words I hope for
not the ease
of peace, my prayer.
With each splash of brazen
fire, and bright
shout of light
my hopes dim.
My vision fades.
Can you see?
Will death
like deafness
quiet my angst?
In bombs of anger,
in the rage of war
will you reply?
What do you say?
Your answer, dark vast night,
may be a fight.
But I will greet it
bravely
by the dawn’s early light.
—-
Independent poem…
Oh say,
can you see,
by the dawn’s early light…
— Francis Scott Key
I think you nailed it perfectly…with such a great independent poem! Well done. The mood of angst is really intense and draws the reader in…then oh, the softened hopeful ending! Beautiful.
What an amazing Independence poem! You are such an amazing writer, Damon! I would never have thought of this.
I Love this…!!
Through the Busyness
There is a moment
of
exquisite tenderness
washing over me,
every now and again
in daily life.
Independent message:
Exquisite tenderness,
every now and again
in daily life.
Beautiful simplicity, Hen!
Thank you, Erin… the tenderness brings great joy to my life…
Good one, Hen.
Oh, thank you, Sara!
To Paint a Poem
I wish to paint a poem
With watercolors and words,
Trap the beauty of
A poem in the beauty of
My paint; for
Painting is silent poetry;
I wish to write a picture,
With words and watercolors,
Express myself,
Immerse myself in both;
For painting is poetry,
And poetry is painting;
And I wish to take the two:
The poem, the painting,
And set them on high,
Where all can see;
To let these twain
Speak with my voice,
Placing one inside the other,
Endowing and enlightening them both
With the gift of speech.
© Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013
Independent message:
“Painting is silent poetry, and poetry is painting with the gift of speech.” – Robert Frost
…yesss… Just Lovely…!!
This is lovely, Erin.
(Boy, was this one a toughie!)
Sevenling (three irrevocable things)
Three irrevocable things in one’s life
are words, time
and chance.
What’s not irrevocable in one’s life
are works, rhyme
and change.
Other than a character or two, is there a difference?
Independent Message
And chance?
And change?
Other than a character or two, is there a difference?
###
Oh, I like this!!
Sleeping Through
The
restful
peace of night
enveloped my
soul.
Independent Message:
“ditto”
🙂
🙂 Another reason why you make this garden extra-special, Hen!
Aww… what a sweet thing to say, Janet… Thank you! And… you are a very, Very special part of all of us too!!! ❤ 🙂 !!
Walt, I have to say that this was a tough challenge, and reading yours make it seem so effortless.