The response to the Guest Host idea has been a grand success so far. And it’s not just being highlighted with the designation. Our poet/hosts have gotten a view of what goes into the inner workings at CREATIVE BLOOMINGS. It really isn’t as easy as it looks. (OK, it’s not rocket surgery either). But if anything, you’ll gain a new appreciation for the poets who populate this place. In continuing our journey around the globe, we’ve stopped to pick up poet Michelle Hed for her tour through the garden.
***
Michelle Hed’s love of poetry started as a teenager. There were a few gaps throughout the years but when her youngest daughter was eight and she realized her kids didn’t need her around the clock anymore she started thinking about what she should do when she grew up!
Michelle is an extremely private person and introverted. So when she came across Robert Brewer’s first Poetic Asides Poem-A-Day April Challenge in 2008, she agonized over the decision of putting herself out there. On the internet. Where anyone could find her. She decided YES and jumped in with both feet and has no regrets. Michelle has made wonderful friends she’s never physically met and the sense of community and support has kept her going. She wishes she could reciprocate on a daily basis but as we all know there are so many other things in our lives that sometimes take precedence.
Michelle is a poet, photographer and artist living in Minnesota. She is happiest when she is outside with a camera in her hand and a notebook in her pocket. Her poems have appeared in the following books, magazines and online journals Poetic Bloomings, Sprout, The Fib Review, Pay Attention: A River of Stones, Prompted: An International Collection of Poems, A Handful of Stones, Writer’s Digest, Haiga Online, and was a finalist in the Poetic Asides Poem- A- Day Challenge 2009.
Her photography has been awarded in local contests and has been published in Mouse Tales Press: Prepare for Flight, Minnesota Birding andHoliday Word Gifts. She also has a book, Natural Musings, which contains both her photography and poetry. She maintains a blog,www.thepenlensandbrush.blogspot.com, for all her artistic endeavors. She is married to her best friend, has two beautiful daughters and two mischievous hounds.
****
PROMPT #144 – “What This Place Needs…”
Think of any really good movie and you can come up with a great tag line that defines it. Think of “Casablanca” and you imagine Bogart voicing “Here’s looking at you, kid!” or “”Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” Think Star Wars you hear Sir Alec Guinness intone, “May the Force be with you.” Jerry Maguire (I know, I know, I said good movie…) you can come up with “You had me at Hello!” and “Show me the money” and “You complete me!” This is a long winded rant to get to the prompt…
Complete this thought and make that thought the title of your poem.
“Every life needs its own______________”
WALT’S FULL THOUGHT:
EVERY LIFE NEEDS ITS OWN HONOR
Precious and priceless, held in reverence,
never prideless. Each life has worth.
Our existences deserve to be praised
and raised upon pedestals, all statuesque
tributes to our very breath and purpose.
Celebrated with an elation that lifts
our station, a sacrifice burned on the altar
of the hearts that beat within us; it is in us
to do ourselves proud. It will speak out loud
being heard far and wide; every life in honor and pride.
(C) Copyright Walter J Wojtanik – 2014
***
MICHELLE’S MINDFUL MUSE:
EVERY LIFE NEEDS ITS OWN OUTLET (A Sestina)
Sometimes you need to unplug
from the world around you,
isolate yourself in your own cocoon
of tranquility, peace
and just exist –
no thoughts.
Placing your thoughts
upon the clouds, unplugging
them from your mind, so they only exist
to drift by… knowing you
can reach up and grab them at any time, a piece
of life’s puzzle to be examined within your cocoon.
The warmth and security of your cocoon
allows you to organize your thoughts
and gain a new perspective and peace
within your body, mind and spirit that had been drained away when plugged
into the running chaos of everyday life. You
are ready to step back and fully exist.
You were existing
but not functioning, needing the sanctuary of your cocoon
to recharge your batteries and energize yourself.
Your thoughts
kept drifting away, seeking to unplug,
seeking peace.
Peace…
the essence of existing
in our charged up world, unplugging
the ear buds and breaking free of the cocoon
that is muffling your thoughts,
overpowering you.
You are recharged, you
are ready to enter the fray and fight for peace
and order within our borders and within our thoughts.
Ready to exist
side by side with chaos, knowing your haven, your cocoon,
is waiting for you should you need to unplug!
With a steady hand you are ready to exist.
You are at peace again, sanctuary is your cocoon
tucked away within your thoughts, you are not unplugged.
(C) Copyright Michelle Hed – 2014
POETIC BLOOMINGS 
Responses
Wow! What a bar raised right at the beginning, and one of them a sestina, yet! Marvellous pieces, Michelle and Walt.
Tell me about it.
Thank you William!
That is a most accomplished sestina – I liked the fluidity of it, that you didn’t stick to a rigid meter or line length. I also liked the thought of unplugging from life for a respite.
Thank you so much Viv!
Yes, what William said! First of all – how nice to see you at the helm this week Michelle, and to learn a little bit more about you as well. A sestina…and so well done, I’m envious of your talent to say the least. Both you and Walt led us off in fine fashion, I must say…great poems each of you.
Thank you so much Sharon! I’m so honored and flattered to receive such high praise from a fellow poet whose body of work I admire so very much. Thank you.
Yes! Excellent work!
Thank you for your creative expressions and the inspiration, Michelle!
I’ll say. Two power-house poems, Walt and Michelle.
Thank you so much Hannah and Jane! I’m so thrilled to be here in the garden with all of you wonderful poets!
EVERY LIFE NEEDS ITS OWN SQUELCHER
Sometimes
the sweetest mouths
say the stupidest things,
hence the everlasting need for
hankies.
copyright 2014, William Preston
Yes, out of it flows the bitter and the sweet. I like it William.
There is a truck load of truth in a few short lines – well done William!
William, you seems to be in a twisted mood today. Love it. Twisting’s good, isn’t it. A truth wrapped in an image of daily life.
I chuckled at this. There are two ladies in our village here who “screen” one another publicly and loudly. Both the comments and the squelches are unnecessary most days 😣
Well said, William!
🙂
Good way to start us off Walt, Michelle. I love the first couple stanzas of the sestina. Well done.
Thank you!
Every Life needs its own Umpire
Words were spent
In that day…
I take you ____to be my lawfully wedded wife/husband.
To have and to hold…
From this day forward…
To love and to cherish…
For richer, for poorer…
For better or for worse…
Eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.
Love the title! So very true!
That last line is a head-snapper. It draws me back, forcefully, to the title.
Oh, my. It does seem that way for some, doesn’t it? Good one. Another twist. It must be the weather.
And I did like this one. It’s given me a great idea for a piece of flash fiction. Thank you, Benjamin.
Glad I could help
🙂
It did, Ben, it did. 🙂
True. I wonder if a marriage ump could really end an argument.
So true. I’m laughing at the visuals in my head right now. Lord knows I needed that ump many times. And honestly I’ve experienced that ump. Col.3:15 says “let the peace of Christ arbitrate in your hearts”…the Greek word for arbitrate literally means umpire, to preside, to be enthroned as ruler and decider of everything. 😄
I doubt it. Husband and wife could, I suppose, unite and turn on the umpire!
Truth speaks!
Yikes. (but true)
[…] PROMPT #144 – “WHAT THIS PLACE NEEDS…” : GUEST HOST – MICHELLE HED […]
Every Life needs its own Woods
Every life needs a breath and a pause
a patch of pine to collect one’s thoughts,
an opening in canopy to catch sun’s rays
and an attentive soul to the birch’s sway.
Every life needs a favored cluster of moss,
a familiar friend in the weathered face of fallen log,
comfort in the caress of wind
and enjoyment in hollow song of limbs.
Every life needs a hill of elders,
a space to communicate with the ancient rocks
a place to talk with the crow and fox
and an open heart and listening ears.
Every life needs a breath and a pause.
Copyright © Hannah Gosselin 2014
I’ll be back soon… happy Sunday poets! 🙂
Indeed! No place I would rather be than out in the woods!
I so agree…thank you so much for the inspiration, Michelle!
From your’s:
” ready to step back and fully exist.”
This puts to words exactly how I’ve been feeling lately…beautiful poem…so much imagery to grasp…the clouds are so befitting of your topic.
This could be a sermon. It is close to a prayer. Wonderful.
Thank you, William…what a compliment…this one ended up being a spoken prayer of sorts…at my faith community on Sunday I was asked to read for the “moment for creation,” and this is what I wrote for it. 🙂 Your comment is a nice confirmation that I was on target with this one…again, thank you.
Without a doubt.
Thank you!
Happy Sunday to you, too, Hannah. I loved this roaming forest poem. It was a breath and a pause for those who’ve had a hectic day so far. Blessings to you.
Thank you, Claudsy…I’m honored that I could bring that pause…blessings to you as well. 🙂
🙂
Yes, this hits the spot. We all need that breath and pause. And that “patch of pine” to collect our thoughts. Good job Hannah!
Thank you, Benjamin!
Hannah, I love this, a reminder of what so many already have if we but pause to take it in. Lovely
Thank you, yes, I agree…that pause can really put things into perspective.
Hannah, you are so right, and this poem really is a keeper – one of your very best.
Wow, thank you, Viv!! I’m so glad you liked this…it felt “right” to me, too!
Sounds so very Thoreau-y and Walden-y.
Well, thank you so much!! 🙂
This is lovely, Hannah.
Every Life Needs its Own Souza March
From the first trumpet notes, you know
that you simply cannot sit still.
You have your marching orders. Move!
It’s your time to put on a show.
Drumbeats, horns, and piccolo trill
are what you need to get your groove
and soon, before you know it – whoa! –
you’ll bring to someone else…goodwill.
C’mon now. Take that step, ‘cause you’ve
‘stars and striped’ your life. Ready? Blow!
The feeling rises – such a thrill.
With Souza marches, moods improve.
It’s not just for the fourth, July.
Don’t let the parade pass you by.
###
My brother-in-law loves Souza and he would agree with you that it’s not just for the 4th of July! Fun poem!
Wonderful, wonderful! When I was a kid, I loved the marches of John Philip Sousa, especially the Washington Post. My peers thought me weird. Well, some things are eternal.
When I was in high school, I played piccolo in marching band. To this day, when I hear a march, I can still hear the piccolo part in my head.
Wonderful piece, RJ. And it does march from stanza to stanza. Good choice.
Those marches are so joyous, you just have to play an air instrument or grab a baton. Your poem is sousalicious!
Love this, RJ!
RJ you made me smile and start to jiggle. A great little sonnet.
Every Life Needs its Own Mary Poppins Bag
A floral-printed carpet bag
can open up a world within.
Who knows what magic you’ll pull out:
a book, a teddy bear, a flag,
a hat rack, spoon or bobby pin,
or something else that’s cool, no doubt.
So, reach inside and feel for swag
and grab a prize ‘cause then you’ll grin.
See, magic’s what it’s all about.
Don’t worry – you won’t hit a snag.
Just open up the bag – begin,
and let your fingers be your scout.
A special bag that’s filled with dreams
is never what the outside seems.
###
Love this RJ! Such a great metaphor for following your dreams. “Just open the bag – begin.” Perfect.
This is so tender; really magical and heart-warming. Makes me wonder, though, if the Vera Bradley folks were thus motivated.
Oh, very true, RJ. This is such a fun image creator. I like the rhyme element as well. Thoroughly enjoyable.
Magic and the capacity for wonder. You’ve challenged me to carry my own mental Poppins bag and look for the magic in existence
This is magic. We all could use this bag every so often.
Hey, Michelle, lookin’ good!
Every Life Needs Its Own Rocket Booster
Something to get it going.
A dream, a desire, a purpose.
A responsibility, a family, a love.
Or, at least, hunger, thirst, warmth.
Some sluggish rockets
need more than one
with a great fire lit at their tail.
Hello Connie! 🙂 The last three lines of your poem made me laugh! Well done!
Years ago, some planes used jet- or rocket-assisted take-offs (JATA; RATO). This called those to my mid.
Great work, Connie. All true and still promising for all. Enjoyed it.
I hear you, I could use my own booster right now…been sick all weekend. Good inspiration Connie.
I’d like to order a dozen of these and a small supply of gumption. Love this, Connie
Oh, how fun. How you encapsulated our greatest needs.
Oh yes, Connie, absolutely. Where can I find mine?
EVERY LIFE NEEDS ITS OWN ROAD MAP
You can lay down crumbs the way Hansel did,
Buy a bloodhound with a prize-winning snout,
Flip a coin or toast a drink to figure out
Which road to take: “Here’s looking at you, Kid.”
It’s much wiser to have some kind of plan
To mark the steps in which you place your feet.
Why stumble in a dark desolate land
Colliding with those lost souls whom you meet?
Check the options, however long it takes.
Do you seek the glitter this world offers?
Fame and glory? What treasures will you stake?
Bright enticing gold to fill life’s coffers?
Do not leave it all to chance. Plan ahead.
You fear falling? Avoid the rough terrain.
Choose the paved overcrowded road instead
Where sideline paper flowers need no rain.
A sage once said, “It’s not the road at all
But where it leads to at the very end.”
On the smooth journey we may walk quite tall
But on the stony trek our pains will mend.
I choose to follow God on my life’s path.
Where He leads me I trust and have no fear.
He taught me how to fall but feel no wrath.
My road map is the Bible I keep near.
You can laugh and say, “This fool missed the boat.”
But in a world where all things come to death,
I take God’s offered hand and walk with hope.
I praise and thank Him for my every breath.
#
Amen. Lovely Sal, really lovely.
Beautiful, Sal. A lovely poem with plenty of good advice and terrific perspective.
Ditto the others. Quite lovely Sal.
Well said, Sal.
Too rigid a plan can rob us of those serendipity moments. It’s surprising how being lost can lead to lessons learned, new marvels discovered…
Every Life Needs Its Own Story
Setting, characters, theme
Aspirations, obstacles, subplots
Denouement, plans for the sequel
How right you are Connie! 🙂
You’ve said it very well, Connie. My plot line may be a bit wavy, but at least I know I’ve created it and it creates only what I allow into my life. Solid and succinct.
I like this little charmer. I can see the story unfold now!
That last line says so much.
oh, my, you’re hot today
Love the use of this prompt, Connie. We all have stories to tell.
Not just every life, but every budding writer!
Oh, Walt, your “Jerry McGuire” movie reference brought a song to mind (as usual). I have gathered my courage and created two creative writing blogs — still learning– like How to single space the text posts ?! 🙂
Every Life Needs Its Own Secret Garden
A
sweet place
to find the
nourishment we
need.
http://lettheballoonssailmeaway.wordpress.com/
Whoops, Just realized that my name doesn’t show: Henrietta Choplin
So very true Hen! Sweet poem. 🙂
Thank you, Michelle, yours touched my heart!!
Such as this garden, perhaps? Lovely little piece.
Aww… of course! Thank you, William…
Ha! Good one, Hen. And good for you in joining the blog-o-sphere. Practice, my friend, and asking others for tips always makes things easier. You’ll get there. Have no fear.
<3!! Thanks, Clauds…!!
You’re welcome. We poets must stick together. Otherwise, we’ll float in a sea of swirling words without boats to paddle. 🙂 Or extras on board to help row.
Oh, yes, Clauds… such truths… Thank you!!
I couldn’t place the abcjohn… although it looked familiar, Henri. On the double space… there are two views they give you when composing your posting…visual and text. If you compose it in text you can clean up the extra spaces. Visual put the space in for some reason. Welcome to the “sphere” will have to add you to the DAISY CHAIN! Walt.
Wow, thank you, so much, Walt… “asking for help” is so difficult for me… you all have made it painless… I thank you!! <3!!
😀
Sweet and true. Sometimes I really need to weed my garden, Hen, to make room for flowers.
!! :D… Oh Jane… you are not alone….!!
It’s very irritating when we lay out a poem beautifully, only to find that WordPress has double spaced it and taken out all those quirky spaces we worked so hard to put in.
To do single spacing: at your chosen line end, press shift at the same time as enter.
To put in white space, you have to type in eg a row of semi-colons, and then change the font colour to white. Don’t forget to change it back again to black for ordinary typing!
Oh, wow… thank you for the tips, Viv… :D!!
One of my favorite books! Welcome to the world of blogging!
EVERY LIFE NEEDS ITS OWN BASSINET
Most babies
need
padded edges.
(c) copyright 2014, William Preston
Some would say padded cages, but it’s all a matter of perspective. Nice, William.
Ha!
Sweet one Walt. I personally like padded edges when I go bowling…it improves my game immensely. 😉
Yes, they tend to dampen the gutter balls.
and grandmothers for cuddles.
Hey there, Michelle. (Clauds waves wildly.) It’s great to have you as co-host this week. I love your example. I’m a bit partial to sestina, you know. And Walt, yours was exemplary, as usual. I’m having fun with this one, too.
What Every Life Needs is a Little Spin
“Let’s take a spin around town,”
you say and wink.
“Why not,” I reply and smile.
Forty years spinning around
town, showing off your Corvette,
waving at neighbors, friends,
strangers on the street,
taking pride in your
accomplishments,
and singing to radio oldies.
I’ve spun clothes on washday;
you’ve spun yarns for the kids;
but all fades when we spin the
wheels of your carmine
ride from the past.
Hey there Clauds! (Michelle waving back just as wildly! :-)) Thank you so much! It’s very lovely to be here. Yay! Yes, I’m a secret lover of the challenge of the sestina but I guess my secret is out now! I love your poem! I was smiling through every spin! 🙂
Thanks, Michelle. I think back often to those days of cruising the boulevard, looking for the action or just to be seen. I know of retirees who still do it.
Yes! Got a kick out of this one. Let’s all take that spin. Sounds like fun. You’re really on a roll today Claudsy.
Thanks, Benjamin. I’ll probably be back later with another. Can’t seem to leave well enough alone. 🙂
I can see you at the burger drive-in. Love it.
🙂 You know it. I worked at that burger joint for three years and did very well indeed. Everyone in town cruised it.
Oh, my, your poem got me spinning on things that spin. Maybe I’ll write a spin-off. Thanks
You’re welcome. Jane. Spin away, my friend, spin away. 🙂
This sounds like much fun.
Such simple things can give so much pleasure. Cruising was the thing to do when I was growing up, and oldsters still do it on a fairly regular basis. You should see how many still have those vintage cars and love showing them off.
Oh Claudsy, this is the greatest fun, showing your youthful spirit!
Thanks. I’m so glad you liked it, Viv. Yes, I admit it. I was a cruiser. Those were innocent days, as seen in hind sight.
Just awesome, Clauds!! I love your closing…there’s something about a “spin” that truly does fade it all away! Well done. 🙂
Aw, thanks, Hannah. I’m glad you enjoyed it so much.
[…] Written for Poetic Bloomings. […]
Loved reading more about you, Michelle! 🙂 Great poems, both of you!
Thanks for the great prompt.
Every Life Needs Its Own Silence
Shhhhh…
I shall rest here a bit, I think,
quiet in my own slurred skin,
drink of this day in steam and
song, drink long of its word-
stirred sway.
Ahhhhh…
-mazing phrase, making way
through labyrinth line, let’s
shine a little light on nothing
for a change, rearrange feathers
for future flight.
.
Hello De! Thank you! Wonderful poem – I love it! You have such a way with words…
Yes De, this sounds completely relaxing. We all need a little silence when it presents itself.
Well done.
This is magical, as usual, and I’m marvelling at “slurred skin.”
A peaceful poem, de. I’ve so often watched birds grooming themselves or mates–that last line resonated. Beautiful
Ah silence, written beautifully.
This is really lovely. Thank you, Whimsy
Aaaah mazing words, De.
Every Life needs its own Hysterical Medicine
Laugh.
Hard.
Like…hysterically.
Until it hurts.
Laugh until the cows come home with sunglasses and giant headphones blasting Bob Marley.
Laugh until the fat lady crescendos and coughs horribly on the final stanza.
Laugh until hell freezes over miraculously due to something called a polar vortex.
Laugh until pigs fly rampant in your apartment and ask you if you could eat more chicken.
Laugh hardy, until you find the rodent elephant scampering around your house like a zealous chipmunk.
Laugh so uncontrollably, that your kids think you’re smoking something that they aren’t.
Laugh so hysterically, that you lack all bodily function and are arrested for public embarrassment.
Laugh so bad, that your closest friends will beg you if your doctor can prescribe them the same medicine.
this made me smile 🙂 Thanks!
Belly laughs, here.
William, I am quite pleased that I could invoke belly laughs. Those are the best!
You’re welcome
Ha ha ha! Wonderful poem and great advice! 🙂
Thanks Michelle
It’ll cure us, for sure. Great fun
It cured me many times. Thx
Smiling widely at this one. Time for some Bob Marley!
You go girl!
I was laughing hysterically until the penultimate line! All bodily functions don’t stop with laughter – laughter makes me wee!
Lol!
Oh, good one, Ben. Loved it. Each absurdity topped the last until at the end I wished I’d found a way to be so clever. Thanks for the laughter. 🙂
No problem, I’ve been quite goofy this week for some reason. Thx
BAHAHAHA!!!
🙂
Every Life needs its own Shoulder
A shoulder.
Broad.
To cry on.
Lean against.
Depend on.
When things fly south
Of the border
And never return.
A shoulder of strength.
Security.
Dependable.
Faithful.
To help you recover
Assist you in time of need.
Take a bullet
When necessary
And even for you bleed.
To buckle down.
Bear the brunt.
Furrow it’s brow.
Wipe the sweat
Put you on top.
Man the day.
Direct the parade.
Without regret.
Then lower the shoulder
And be the ox.
Tireless.
Bearing the burden.
Until the course is tread.
The day withered
And gone.
But there is bread.
On the table.
A shoulder.
To keep.
To put your arm around.
When you weep.
Make you feel the warmth
Without a sound.
A silent fire burns.
Ever so brightly.
And you know.
Stability is here.
Till I read this, I hadn’t thought there were so many connotations for the word.. I think this is nicely done.
Oh yes, everyone needs a shoulder. Wonderfully written.
Being the shoulder is hard work; having a shoulder is pure blessing. Nicely done
A glorious confusion of metaphors, and you are absolutely right, a shoulder is a GOOD THING.
This is so wonderful, Benjamin, with its images and its definitions. It tells of a love beyond measure and a dependability beyond solidity. You’re right. Each of us does need this in our lives.
So true, one that thinks they can go it alone…sigh…vivid examples, Benjamin.
Hey Hannah!
Hi there! 🙂 Finally making rounds…
“Every life needs its own mirror”
(a pantoum)
Every life needs its own burnished mirror
to peer into the far-flung past.
A tool to reflect our trodden paths,
whether wise, resolute, or marred.
To peer into the far-flung past,
then disclose our truths and errs.
Whether wise, resolute, or marred,
Echo-casting of years yet unknown.
Then, disclose our truths and errs
so the future repeats each mended rove.
Echo-casting of years yet unknown,
every life needs its own burnished mirror.
This is one of my favorite forms. It’s nice to see one again.
Mine too. You use it well
and me.
I love this.
Oops.
I hadn’t seen this one before I saw this one. We need this mirror as well!
Love the way you used this form.
Yes this is a very nice poem. A pantoum. Don’t quite remember the form but enjoyed your skill in it.
Lovely, J.lynn. Such a marvelous poem that flows like a gentle stream across the page. It reads so very well aloud. Terrific.
Thanks everyone.
Ooo…I love how your form so suits your subject…perfect pairing, J.lynn!
Every Life Needs its own Closet
Every life needs its own closet, lined with shelves,
to house reminders of our many selves—
the mitts and rackets of an active life
still good as new almost, each parcel rife
with memories of when we were athletic,
or someone who could make crowds sympathetic.
And side-by-side are skills we hardly tried,
boxes of almosts, one days, tucked inside.
It’s true such closets, cavernous and stacked,
can make us keenly feel talents we lacked.
It’s true that willy-nilly here and there,
we glimpse successes, losses we can’t bear,
heartbreaks in tissue paper, joys so keen
we hardly recognize these selves we’ve been.
But every life has things too good to junk,
moments we are not done with in a trunk,
objects we loved so dearly over time
that though they’re threadbare, we call them sublime
and do not toss them to the rubbish heap
because they clothe a memory we keep.
Imagine all the selves we recollect—
some naughty, hardly worthy of respect;
some curious, courageous periscope
from bubble wrap, their heads turbaned in hope.
Some kind, loving, and gentle walk with shame
that wretched, mean, and stubborn weren’t the same.
Pictures of long ago, an Easter hat,
an honor pin, wild flowers, smiles pressed flat,
certificates and letters, ribbon bound,
old worn-out jeans and journals lost, now found;
a baby’s bonnet, toys and rubber nose,
proof of our fear and whimsy, lives we chose.
And yet we keep them all, make room for more
until life clears the shelves, shows us the door.
We think, perhaps quite rightly, we will mend
the memories our actions helped to rend.
We want a chance to edit and rewrite,
a chance to change our stories, phrase life right,
whatever that means; we feel we aren’t done
and feel sometimes we’ve only now begun
to understand the parcels we have saved,
the passages to perils we have braved.
We shuffle through, reshelve bits, wanly sigh
for life’s closet expands until we die.
I think this is stunningly good. The rhymes all fit and are not forced, and the argument builds beautifully. Thanks for this.
Jane what a wonderful closet you have described. I believe I have one of my own. 🙂
This is so lovely, Jane. I wish you ever expanding closets.
Lovely. I felt like I entered the closet and got lost in it. Excellent write and reflection on life.
Jane, you have written a poem full of truth and not a little sadness for me. When we moved last year it was necessary to give away/ junk/sell great chunks of our lives – sighing at the memories, the why did we stop doing this, that or the other? It made me feel that many doors were closing for us. A powerful poem.
Thanks to you all for your kind comments. Viv, I understand completely. Every time I clean closets, I’m both shamed and entertained by the totally useless (except to me) objects I consider throwing away, but always fold back into a box. Memories I’m not finished with, you know. The thing is, though, Viv, you once did do all those things and that never changes. Doors never close on what you’ve done and were, although new doors open and we shuffle on through them. Thanks for your connection.
This is more than excellent, Jane. It sums up each life, whether intended or not. Whether mementos remain memory only or physical items, our closets cannot be cleaned out–only rearranged as we sift through, looking for specifics from moment to moment.
This one will stick with me for sure. Thank you, Jane.
You’ve covered so many of the different facets of a life fully lived, all the physical and emotional shining gem like qualities and otherwise.
I love this phrase:
“they clothe a memory we keep.”
Love the idea of a memory being clothed like this…so much great sound play in this poem, too. Beautiful Jane!
EVERY LIFE NEEDS AT LEAST ONE DO-OVER
It’s like the mulligan you’re granted in golf
The “forgiving” done when learning a game
So often in life, things are bound to happen
Unplanned things, that you wish you could redo
Have another shot at, if only, you find yourself
Thinking, if only you could have that one back
Rewind the clock, rewind the tape…go back
And do whatever it was that didn’t go well
You know you would do it better, make it right.
Yes Sharon, I love this perspective. Every life needs at least one do-over.
yes! I completely agree, Sharon.
I love this; it recalls for me an old song, In the Land of Beginning Again.
…yes… another song with words to the affect: (hourglass) “… you can’t flip it over and start again…”
An avid recycler, I’m keen on multiple chances. I enjoyed this, Sharon
Yes indeed, we could all use one of these. 🙂
Aaahhh would that it were so.
So very true, Sharon. We all have these needs to do over. To have an argument one more time to put in all those lines you know would have put you on top, or the opportunity you passed up rather than take the risk.
Excellent, my friend.
[…] Written for Creative Bloomings #144: What This Place Needs…. […]
EVERY LIFE NEEDS ITS OWN LAUGH TRACK
Not the kind
that sounds fake or canned;
but rather,
the laughter
of friends – the kind that reminds
us it’s good to laugh.
There you go! Wonderful.
Oh yes!!
Exactly
Absolutely!
Right on Paula, I do like the laughter of friends.
That’s what Jock is for – his aim is to make me laugh every day, and he succeeds.
Ah, good for Jock!! We all need to laugh every day. It’s important! ❤
Good one, Paula. You’re right. Remembering that laughter always makes us feel better.
Every Life Needs its own Regulation
(Every life has a definite nature, a distinct essence, and a particular form)
Why doesn’t sloth sprint like cheetah?
Cat bark like leaping hound?
Mice laced with feathers fancy,
Or with kangaroos feet abound?
Don’t teach the cardinal it’s beauty
Or finch the fineness of his perch.
Bluejay his moving antics.
Or worm to burrow beneath the earth.
Don’t teach peaches their sweetness.
Nor lecture bees to find their fill.
Vultures only know their swooping.
The ant only knows his skill.
Bingo!
Oh! I Love this!!
I love this.
Love it. 🙂
It’s all in the DNA
Marvelous, Benjamin. You have spoken a wonderful truth here, and done it very well, and in rhyme.
Thx Claudsy
Wow, Michelle, you are off to a brilliant start!
Imagination
Every life needs its own imagination
or stagnation will set in, ruts too tough
to climb out of, sameness settling in
like a virus. Stop this! You can see
beaches brightening your day, animals
having animated conversations,
or mad tea parties with disappearing
cats, and a red queen who clearly
is bats. Close your eyes and transport
yourself to a place of your own
imagination.
I think this is great, and I love your near-rhymes and your rhymes near each other.
Oh Sara, Perfect affirmation to read this day, Thank you!!
You’re so right.
Thanks Sara! Great poem and yes everyone needs imagination.
Love this! With the weather we’ve had in the Midwest, I definitely feel the sameness settling in!
Thanks so much, William, Hen, Jane, Michelle, & Chi. I feel honored.
Hey Sara, I had a double scoop of this. I read it a second time and enjoyed it much more thoroughly. I gobbled up your opening line. And I know it all too well! Imagination or stagnation? Ruts too tough to climb out of…sameness settling in like a virus. Yikes! Stop it! This is completely my world. My imagination is my escape from sameness stagnation virus (SSV).
🙂
This I love – fun and beautifully written.
Nice one, Sara. Without our mental images, what would we do for inspiration?
Haven’t got a clue!
Does anyone? 🙂
Every Life Needs Its Own Flavor
Orange spice, lavender or strawberry
Chocolate, jasmine or cherry
Whatever that’s alluring
That wafts in a calling
Follow the trail
Decipher its grail
In a passionate quest
Add a fresh hearted zest
Don’t hold back its pitches
Slowly savor in its riches—
I reach out for chamomile
What fancies your zeal?
Yes, Priti you nailed it!
I love this, a rollicking riot of rhyming.
What would life be without a varied palette? Love your poem
Love it, I’m drooling just reading it. 😉
Coffee, thanks for asking! Wonderful poem.
Full of zest, like a good lemon.
Wonderful, Priti. What flavors? Too many to count, each for a different side of me, a different mood or anticipation.
I love the poem and its question.
To answer your question. Peppermint does it just fine.
Every Life Needs It’s Own PPK
With Death in his rear view mirror
He lives every moment
Like it just might be
His last
But it’s not
Not even close
Women adore him
Men abhor him
Danger surrounds him
And he embraces it
Beats it down
And walks on
© 2014 Earl Parsons
I don’t know who, or what, PPK is, but I like the sentiments here. For me, this has a Carl Sandburg feel to it.
Maybe you’d recognize a Walther PPK. Or, perhaps, “Shaken, not stirred”. If that’s not enough, then I find you hopeless. haha
I didn’t get the acronym either though I got the context.
Love it Earl! Who doesn’t like Bond?
Please, what is a PPK?
The PPK is the model of the Walther that 007 carried with him. It’s one of the best .380 pistols that one can possess. As a matter of trivia, I don’t believe the PPK label has been used since Roger Moore was 007. I may have to look that up to be sure. Or, I could just get out the movies and watch them one-by-one.
I, personally, prefer the Walther P99. But, that’s just me.
Oh dear! I have a parthological hatred of guns of any kind, but thanks for the information, anyway.
Now this sounds like the premise of an action movie, if I ever heard one. Well done, Earl. So much imagery and emotion tied up in so few words. Terrific.
Yay, Mik! It is so nice to see you here…and you do it with a sestina! I bow down to you.
(but you’ll get no sestina out of me! nope. nuh-uh. Ain’t gonna’ do it.) 😉
😀 !! Thank you for the grin, Linda!
Ha ha ha! Thanks Linda! It is great fun to be here! No one is required to do a Sestina!!! Now maybe if I had control of the prompt….(que evil laughter here)! lol Just kidding!
I have loved everyone’s work, tho I have a crazy schedule these days, and two rambunctious, adorable puppies… Thanks all!! 🙂 !!
Thanks for stoppin’ in Hen!
EVERY LIFE NEEDS ITS OWN BEACON
An honest man
is boon to friend and child and wife;
an honest man
remains consistent as he can
in times of calm and times of strife.
Praised be the elixir of life:
an honest man.
(c) copyright 2014, William Preston
So right you are and those honest beacons shine through fog. An honest poem by an honest man. Thanks for this
Lovely William and so true.
For a quick second I thought you said it’s own BACON. 😉 (Which I would also agree with, along with “beacon”!)
Well, I had to take a crack at that:
EVERY LIFE NEEDS ITS OWN BACON
Stressful times
diminish the grease
that obscures
life’s lean meat.
Time spent in the frying pan
tempers one for fire.
(c) copyright 2014, William Preston
LOVE it!! 🙂
Oh, terrific, William. Glad you came back to whip up a new skillet full of truth. Love it.
Ha ha ha ha! 🙂
Good one, William. One of these seems harder to find that it used to. It’s good to be reminded. Great job.
Yes, your title brings that added beauty in image and metaphor…excellently worded piece, William.
EVERY LIFE NEEDS A MIRROR
Let Us make a self-portrait
Humanity alone will reflect Our nature
Humanity, but not a man nor a woman
Every person born is a fleck of paint
Drawn by Us in unique detail
We’ll embody ourselves in nature so they will hear
Our voice echoed in its rhythm and song
We’ll imitate Our dimensions so they will see Us
From hummingbird to Everest
Families and sex epitomize Our love
Like a funny house, they distort Our image
We were the Word before we gave them minds to learn
The words we use to represent us
Every vision is seen through a dark mirror, broken
Until Our light replaces the sun and we meet face to face
Every knee bowed, Our portrait complete
By Darlene Franklin
This is a lovely poem Darlene.
Thanks, Michelle.
Oh, wow, Darlene! Good one!
A powerful poem, Darlene. Lovely.
Every Life needs its own Parade
Heady Lions sprint through hoops, leading the pack in rumbling roars.
Acrobatic squirrels juggle little acorns tip their hats.
Rhinoceros in suit, bow tie and cuffs
Spins a ball on tip of tusk.
Spider monkeys sprawl and spring
While maintaining their balance.
Avid Kangaroo belly dancers quickly make a scene, draws a crowd.
A dozen timid does travel In a pack tiptoeing on hoofs.
Tuba shaped petunias sound their praise brightly in unison.
Red robins well-pleasing to the eye; in tight formation, bank left, right like a red banner in flight.
And the parade continues…
Wouldn’t want to let that parade pass by. Love it.
Such images bring broad smiles, lift the heart, and hand over a day bettered by words.
Thanks, Benjamin.
Yes, great imagery! Love it!
Every life needs its own memory stick
As we get older
failing memories flounder,
forget those useful numbers
for cars and phones,
and vital passwords,
blank the names of friends.
A flash disk would be handy
with a body-mounted USB port
fine and dandy for recalling
those details that slip our minds.
Lol! Hey Viv, I could use a memory upgrade too! Maybe a faster chip as well.
I got a (somewhat painful) chuckle from this. Hits a bit close to home, but well put.
If only, Viv. I’d have at least half a dozen flash drives for my sieve moments and name juggling antics. 🙂 Love this thought and poem. Thank you so much.
Love this Viv! I would love this for my own mind! 🙂
Every Life needs its own Lollipop
Come and get it!
Lickety-split!
It’s the new
SUPERSIZE ME
Rockin’ Raspberry
Berry Blast Double dip
Texas Twister!
Limited edition!
Yes! That’s it!
It’s coming in style!
And she’ll treat you right!
Ya just can’t stop with one lick!
Don’t be a sap try a pack!
Come get a grip while supplies last!
Only a sucker could pass this up!
Don’t get caught without it!
Approved for all ages!
This advertisement is brought by LICKIN’ GOOD LOLLIPOPS.
Where we serve your lips very well.
And who said life wasn’t sweet?
Right on!
You put a grin on my carbo-restricted face. Thanks.
YES! That was fun. Terrific romp, Benjamin. You’ve certainly been on a roll on this prompt. Good for you.
Fun one Benjamin!
Only one more. I just couldn’t resist.
Every Life Needs a Pot of Beans
Fresh or dried, boiled or baked
they come by the pound.
Their fragrance wafts across
kitchen, park and playground,
leaving behind detractors
or enthusiasts, according to type.
Contests abound for their non-musical sound,
To test the uncertain power of the bean.
To witness a life relieved of internal strife,
Simply follow one who leaves the crowd green.
This is a delicious poem!
Thanks, William. I’ve been craving them for a few days. Maybe that was the impetus for the words. 🙂
Ha ha ha! Thanks for the laugh Claudsy!
You’re welcome. It was fun to do. Glad you got a laugh.
Every life needs its own balance
A time when the day ahead can mark
The sleepdreamtime to come
But for now the day only sparks
Insomnia
And I, sleepless dreamless
Flounder on in search of lost and lonely
Memories.
Aw, Megan, you put enough wistfulness in this to bring a tear to the eye. Never having suffered this malady, I cannot fully relate, though I can sympathize as one who’s pulled more all-nighters than I care to remember. Your words are certainly effective.
I wish you a full night of rest, whether taken in the daytime or not. If all you can do is close your eyes and rest your body, do that. Allow you mind to wander where it will, dream what images it conjures up, and slide into them to experience whatever daydream appears.
Sweet poem Megan!
For me, this is a fascinating piece, notably “sleepdreamtime.”
Every Life Need Its Own Alternate Ending
I covet an alternate type of life—
Flaunting pearls of glamour on a string
Long luncheons with girlfriends
and personal fitness sessions
Hours soaking at the spa
Ah! Cristal dripping on ice
Fielding agent phone calls
My books on the best seller list—twice
In the real world
I am a referee
Breaking up fights between
toddlers who claw and scratch
A luncheon would be nice,
but I need to take a bath
And clean the kitchen; pick up toys—
Oh boy! I think I’ll just crash
I never thought of a dream, night or day, as an alternate ending. I enjoyed this poem.
Nice one. I remember those days…
Every Life Needs Some Air
One that talks to your bones
And sings in your ears
That blows out dirty laundry
That puffs in fresh views
and fluffs up dense rues
Every life needs some air
That pushes dark shadows
And pulls you to light
That smoothens your feathers
That opens your layers
and spreads your wings—
Every life, needs some air
This sounds like the same idea as some old-timers used to call “elbow room.” I think this is wonderful.
Yes we do! Well done.
My Life Needs Theme Music
It’s the quiet I can’t bear, left here
alone inside my life. The company—
it’s not so bad—I’ve made peace,
come to terms with myself after
all those years of wrestling ghosts.
The music piped into the elevator,
following me through cosmetics,
up to the mezzanine, innocuous
at best, at worst, gave me a thought.
I need my own theme music,
playing always in the background,
following me out the door,
through the park, something easy
in just the right key, so I can hum
along, imagining the words I’d sing.
A catchy little tune that works as well
on keyboard as on strings. Some days,
I’d like to hear the music swell, evoking
images of men and women, all in black,
playing from the orchestra pit; on others,
I might hear a single flutist, strolling
along behind me, our own parade
of two. At home alone, let me catch
snatches of the tune, whistled, perhaps
from someone crossing my lawn, someone
about to step up to my door and knock.
N. Posey
(I can’t get this site to let me sign in as myself!)
For me, this was akin to a reverie. I loved it.
Lovely poem Nancy.
Every Life needs it’s own Liberty
The garden earth, that holds perfect blossom, possesses a temporal beauty.
Her grass withers, her flowers fall off.
Can tulip blossom endure beyond it’s appointed season?
Can the arresstive color of rose withstand its own wilt?
Can it’s mother soil, which holds it’s petaled blood be free of guilt?
The gravity of death presumes the victory, siphons every breath, and shall win the fall with valor.
Can the seeking child be free from smiting hand?
Can perfectionist be free of self-inflicted wound, and the unattainable bar of her high demand?
What can free the crook from the thorn of his envy and his perpetual want?
What can liberate a human being demonically violated by an illicit drug?
That soon possesses the fiber of their enticed soul, dampens their spirit, and pervades the chemistry of their physical body unto ruin.
What can free men from the iron cage of their pride? What can starve it of it’s wild hunger? Until it wanes into an impotent corpse. Then there would be no more corruption spotted on the garden earth.
What can free men from the malicious appetite of greed?
What else do we really need?
What can liberate from the pain of boredom and monotony of human life?
Shall we be saved from complaint, endless worry, trivial strives?
Can we be freed from the brutality of aging? And the gradual wilt of awesome blossom?
Shall we be freed from the sting of death, and the ruthless power of the grave?
Much liberty is needed. Much freedom is craved. Where there is liberty their is freedom.
(2 cor. 3:17)
Wow! Powerful and thought provoking, well done!