BRILLIANT BLOOMS – PROMPT # 156 AND RIME ROYAL

A sincere thank you to Patricia Hawkenson for her service as my co-host this week. She has continued the excellence that has been provided by our past guests.

Sometimes our dreams are an escape. And sometimes, they can be prophetic. But in our dreams we can do things that aren’t possible in our waking hours. We write about a dream that we’ve had and its effect on us.

And so we pick our “dream team” for the week with our BRILLIANT BLOOM designations:

WALT’S CHOICES:

Dreams can be very vivid “productions” and the wilder the dream, the more memorable. The first poem I honor is rife with imagery and vision and is well expressed. I present this BLOOM to Marilyn Braendeholm (Misky) for “INTERSECTIONS”

INTERSECTIONS by Marilyn Braendeholm

It was a misstep between dreams, 
a clarity between seaworthy swells. 
You and I, long friends of decades, 
we met for lunch — that restaurant 
at the intersection where rain soaked 
pavements fork off in all directions. 

You had minced beef, raw to ruby red 
with green capers rolling off the plate. 
You stabbed at the egg yolk, a mounted
beacon on beef, a raw cycloptic eye 
staring up at me, and it bled fluid gold 
veins across the plate. Everything 

about you was raw that day, and I 
was pained by our static conversation, 
so difficult, so splayed and tough 
to chew, and in between each word 
swallowed, I choked on incomplete 
thoughts. And then came the moment 

when my heart torqued, when I knew
that we had nothing left to say, that
our friendship was like corked wine.
You ordered another glass. Red.
I sucked on ice cubes that tortured 
my nerves, and dissolved to water. 

And I woke, knowing our friendship
deserved more than we’d given it.

(C) Copyright Marilyn Braendeholm – 2014

***

The Rime Royal has proved to be a popular choice of form this week. And it has rendered some excellent poems. The poet that receives this BLOOM, earns it with a tandem of wonderful words.  Darlene Franklin makes the color blue come alive, and provided a tender tribute on the passing of Maya Angelou.

WORLD OF BLUE

Today my world is blue and I am blessed
Pastel walls framed with wood and white welcome
Me, dressed in sky blue and sunflowers, guest
Blanket of walnut and fern, rub my thumb
Accents of tropical blooms my anthem
Shower cleanses me behind violet blue sheets
Aqua to robin’s egg, my life is sweet

Darlene Franklin ©2014

 

MAYA ANGELOU IS DEAD

Maya Angelou is dead
She spoke for rock, river and tree
Word-wrought spell brought light as it spread

She spoke for nations, worlds and me
Unique yet united are we

No longer caged by mortality
Her song leaps from star to star, free

Darlene Franklin ©2014

 

PATRICIA’S PICK:

I pick Sal’s efforts for my Beautiful Bloom. He offered a trio of great poems with this one as my personal favorite. The gentle image of a garden that holds the souls of our loved ones is comforting, and I have often awoke from such emotional dreams crying those dream tears that stay with you all day.

 

I DREAMED OF MARY’S GARDEN

in a dream one night
I walked in Mary’s garden
where every flower
was a soul at peace
and I stooped to touch
the softest petal
of the brightest red rose

it wore my father’s face
and Mary stooped
beside me
touched the velvet
and smiling said
how happy my Papa was
in this Garden of her Son

when I awoke
despite sleep tears
I could smell spring

 

(C) Copyright Salvatore Buttaci – 2014

***

For my Beautiful In Form Bloom, I chose Damon Dean’s efforts, as it speaks to me personally. My own daughter is moving out and on her own, and I relate to the longing of wanting her to see the life lessons we hope we planted in her. Being a poet that struggles with form, I applaud his ability to make the rhyme and meter fit where it should, but not let it become a tool that digs the heart from the emotion the poem should portray.

A Garden Left to Daughters

Well, here…take the rake. The plot is yours. It’s started well,
and it should bring a bounty, having had a gentle spring,
though several times we’ve had a good cold spell.
The squash are blooming, see. And they should bring
you dozens with each pickin’. You can hear bees singing
even now, in deep big yellow blooms. Somehow
we must find ways to save the bees. Somehow.

The vines of the tomatoes, they look good
as well. And if they bloom as hoped they probably
will be your best crop, if the summer’s mood
is kind, and heat holds off till June. We’ll see.
I’ll be longing to be here. I wish that I could be.
Water in the evening, not mid-day, never noon.
You’ll blister leaves, and the pepper plants would swoon.

Weed the okra as you will; I take the grass between
but leave the springy thin small water weeds, for they
are not of consequence, and in the coming days will not be seen.
And cukes—the climbing cukes, just aim them upward. Hey,
the vines, with wind and birds and weighty fruit will sway,
but they know where to go. The sun will play its role.
I have placed the wires, the strings, the poles.

I hope that these thick onions make. They may need space.
Just gently crumble, loosen dirt around their bulbs. I’ve never had
great onions. Still just learning, I suppose. It’s no disgrace
to still be learning, as a gardener, at my age. I’m somewhat sad,
though, to be going on, not having learned to make my onions glad.
But you two, if you aren’t afraid of dirt, can learn what I have not.
You can grow and thrive and harvest life in this small garden plot.

It’s yours. The space, the tools, the fence, the plants, the hose.
I give it up, I leave it here. I can’t regret my dew-soaked socks, nor
blame the sun for burns on days when I’ve not worn my hat. God knows
I’ve learned much on these rows, despite the sweat. And more
than that, I’ve eaten well. The gate, by the way, the gate stays open for
the neighbors. They should share the harvest too. They come late in the day.
I hope I’ve left you all you need. I hope I’ve said all that I need to say.

It’s yours.

(C) Copyright Damon Dean – 2014

 

CONGRATULATIONS TO MARILYN, DARLENE, SAL AND DAMON on your bloom!

 

INFORM POETS – RHYME (RIME) ROYAL

A type of poetry consisting of seven lines, usually in iambic pentameter. The rhyme scheme is a-b-a-b-b-c-c. In practice, the stanza can be constructed either as a tercet and two couplets (a-b-a, b-b, c-c) or a quatrain and a tercet (a-b-a-b, b-c-c). This allows for a good deal of variety, especially when the form is used for longer narrative poems and along with the couplet, it was the standard narrative metre in the late Middle Ages.

WALT’S ROYAL PAIN:

SPRING STORM

The rumble of the thunder rings,
throughout the valley far and wide.
And in the skies the birds take wing,
searching for a place to hide.

While I sit safe and dry inside,
and listen to the storm’s wild rage;
a thunder/lightning war is waged.

(C) Copyright Walter J Wojtanik – 2014

 

***

PATRICIA’S RHYME ROYAL :

Sunshine Brothers

Perhaps our mothers laid us in the sun
to cure our jaundice skin so deathly pale.
Desperately wanting warmth from everyone,
when our color comes back in the long run,
we can speak up and let our voices blend,
and friendships can start where the rainbow ends.

 

(C) Copyright Patricia A Hawkenson – 2014

PROMPT #156 – “YOU MAY SAY I’M A DREAMER”: GUEST HOST – PATRICIA HAWKENSON

I would be remiss if I didn’t take this moment to thank Connie Peters for hosting last week, and all the guest hosts to date. You have all contributed greatly to the success of Creative Bloomings. It continues this week with the addition of another talented and expressive artist in words and other disciplines. It’s a joy to share the spotlight this week with Patricia Hawkenson,

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Artisan, Poet and Author Patricia Hawkenson

Patricia A. Hawkenson was an award-winning educator before her retirement, but now she is a full-time artist offering a range of skills from stained glass kaleidoscopes, sewing tapestry handbags, creating jewelry, and writing poetry. Check out a few of her crafts on Creative Bloomings ‘CRAFT’ tab:

http://poeticbloomings.com/crafts/

You can follow her Expressive Domain business on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ExpressiveDomain

She shares her poetry with a variety of online writing communities such as: Creative Bloomings, Writing Digest’s Poetic Asides, and Hello Poetry. Selected poems were published on e-zines, such as InTheFray and Storm Sage Central. She is published in numerous print anthologies including: Poetic Bloomings the First Year, Prompted, Beyond the Dark Room, Whispered Beginnings, Fandemonium I & II, Four of a Kind, and Royal Flush. Her first full collection, “Magnetic Repulsion, 100 Poems from Desire to Disgust,” is available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble: http://www.outskirtspress.com/magneticrepulsion

If it is not jinxing fate to mention it here, Patricia’s poem ‘Plum Crazy’ is slated to be published in the 2015 Poet’s Market! It was originally written for a prompt on Poetic Asides.

Patricia is currently seeking a writing agent and a publisher for her finished historical fiction novel ‘Born with a Tarnished Spoon.’ The novel exposes the social expectations of unwed mothers and the illegal baby trade that exploited their situations in the 1930’s.

***

 

PROMPT #156 – “YOU MAY SAY I’M A DREAMER” – The poem we’re asking for this week, is based on a dream you’ve had. It could be the misty visions we have during our R.E.M. cycle, or it could be an aspiration we hold dear. Write the poem entitled, “I Once Dreamed About____”

WALT’S MYSTIC NIGHTLY VISION:

I ONCE DREAMED ABOUT ANDREA MEETING HER GRANDMOTHER

A DREAM MEETING

My daughters are my pride and joy. I got just what I wanted; I never “wished” for boys. As different as night and day, they both have a way of working Daddy around their finger. The feeling lingers. Melissa holds a seven-year advantage, in time spent and shared. There were many a glad moment when she “met” her grandmother, my mother, spending her last nine months together. But as short lived, they were moments I cherish in my heart. The part that staggers me and saddens this old Dad’s demeanor was that my youngest daughter Andrea had never known her grandmother. I have no doubt that Andi would have had Mom’s special favor. She has Mom’s smile.

I recently dreamed about Andrea meeting her grandmother. Any other dream would have faded quickly in the early morning light. But this dream had the feeling so real that I could feel Mom’s gentle hand leading me through the mystic midnight vision playing in my sleep filled mind. For twenty-eight years she’s been gone, but ever-hopeful, this “one more day” played like it was video taped for posterity. The sincerity of Mom’s smile while she embraced our baby – fully grown and who has only “known” grandma by photos and oft-told memories which she had come to cherish as much as we have in making them. But, there they were a generation removed and settled into the groove that should have had the chance to flourish. It would have nourished both hearts in the lifetimes they would have known. Cuddled close conversing about futures planned and wisdom handed down; secrets shared between two of my favorite “girls”. But all nights do end and dreams do sometimes find conclusion. One final photo, a keepsake to take to my waking moments and beyond. In my dream, my daughter found her missing peace!

Daughters find their way
even in dreams they can feel
moments in their heart.

© Walter J Wojtanik – 2014

PATRICIA’S DREAM:

WE ONCE DREAMED ABOUT GROWING OLD TOGETHER

There was no section
of our colonoscopies
that was scrapbook worthy,
and we had to settle
for pressing dead leaves
as they withered and dropped
instead of your balding hair,
our falling reading glasses,
or my sagging skin,
so our desires for
idyllic porch lemonade
and white-wicker rocking chairs
became improbable fantasies
that have slowly grown
into five o’clock shadows
with eye-opening dark drinks
served from our shaking hands
into old-fashioned glasses.

© PATRICIA A HAWKENSON – 2014

BRILLIANT BLOOMS PROMPT #155 AND STACCATO

I have a bit of a background in music, so it sometimes colors my writing and poetry. As with this week’s prompt, we basically assembled “Found” poems out of the song titles of our favorite performers. A great blend of artists and collected works was presented for our consideration. The INFORM POETS Staccato was a bit of a challenge, but we garners some interesting poems here as well.

WALT’S BLOOMS:

This would be a unanimous choice if Connie had been allowed to cast two votes, as she had confided that Sharon’s reworking of Janis Ian’s titles was also worthy of a BLOOM. She earns mine for this:

GETTING OVER YOU by Sharon Ingraham

(Janis Ian)

I NEED TO LIVE ALONE AGAIN
LAY LOW with PHOTOGRAPHS
MEMORIES, THIS NIGHT
WHEN SILENCE FALLS, in this
HOUSE WITHOUT A HEART
ON THE OTHER SIDE of
THE GREAT DIVIDE – admit that
LIFE IS NEVER WRONG

SHADOWS ON THE WIND and a
BLACK CROW FLYING
HERE IN THE CITY remind me
YOU’RE TOO LATE; my
CHILDHOOD HERO…
made ALL THOSE PROMISES
WHEN I LAY DOWN
I HEAR YOU SING AGAIN
see PARIS IN YOUR EYES

THROUGH THE YEARS,
THIS HOUSE witnessed your
BRIGHT LIGHTS AND PROMISES
our SLOW DANCE ROMANCE
I WANT TO MAKE YOU LOVE ME
but I’ve read BETWEEN THE LINES
While LOVE IS BLIND and
INSANITY COMES QUIETLY TO
THE STRUCTURED MIND,
WITHOUT YOU – I’LL CRY TONIGHT
but LET ME BE LONELY

And WHEN THE PARTY’S OVER
Here IN MY MAMA’S HOUSE
I’ll be EMPTY, GETTING OVER YOU
WHEN YOU LOVE SOMEONE
AS FAR AS LONELY GOES
I’ll miss your ARMS AROUND
MY LIFE but,
YOU DON’T KNOW MY HEART

DAYS LIKE THESE when I HUNGER
for TENDERNESS, want you to
RIDE ME LIKE A WAVE
I come close to BREAKING SILENCE,
wonder WHY CAN’T YOU AND I
TRIGGER HAPPY LOVE before I
recall you are a SNIPER OF THE HEART
and I should HIT YOU WITH THE GUILT
and TAKE NO PRISONERS

STANDING IN THE SHADOWS OF LOVE
ALL ROADS TO THE RIVER
TAKE ME WALKING IN THE RAIN.
I REMEMBER YESTERDAY, like
a PASSION PLAY, BIGGER THAN REAL.
I BELIEVE I’M MYSELF AGAIN
but HERE COMES THE NIGHT and look
There’s THE BRIDGE..it feels like
TONIGHT WILL LAST FOREVER

FROM ME TO YOU, LIGHT A LIGHT
DON’T CRY OLD MAN – here’s a
LOVER’S LULLABY…GOOD-BYE TO MORNING
I want to TAKE TO THE SKY…do I hear
a HYMN? No, THIS MUST BE WRONG
I am DOWN AND AWAY and hear sweet
voices rise…WHEN ANGELS CRY…

***

INFORM POETS CHOICE:

There was an interesting use of the repeats  in lines 3/6, giving a different feel to the exclamation to drive the point home. I applaud our Mistress of Forms for this take which has earned RJ Clarken this designation!

Shape Shifter

“You must not blame me if I do talk to the clouds.” ~Henry David Thoreau

I see a horse, a dog, or a pinwheel.
As a matter of course, clouds can’t conceal
shape shifts! Shape shifts! So, my mind plays
in between the bright streaking rays
where we hum and thrum and chat, because clouds
shape shift. They are the wispy folks in crowds.

I wonder why you hear something I can’t,
but does that mean we should try to supplant
our dreams? Our dreams!? I don’t believe
that should be so. I can’t conceive
of a world without dreams or clouds or words.
Our dreams are the clouds, and they sing like birds.

(C) RJ Clarken – 2014

***

CONNIE’S BLOOMS:

For “Say it with Music,” I picked “Have you ever been Lonely?” by Debi Swim. This one flowed smoothly despite a patchwork of titles by Patsy Cline and was an enjoyable read.

HAVE YOU EVER BEEN LONELY by Debi Swim

(Patsy Cline)

I’ve gone out “Walking After Midnight”
these past “Seven Lonely Days”
under a “Blue Moon of Kentucky”
“I Fall to Pieces”, feeling “Crazy”, hoping
“Someday You’ll Want Me to Want You”
cause “You Made Me Love You”,
gave me “Sweet Dreams” and I’m longing
to be “Back in Baby’s Arms” but
“Your Cheatin’ Heart”
has given me
“Lovesick Blues’
and I can only hope
you’ll “Pick Me Up on Your Way Down.”
Oh, it’s “So Wrong” that you had
“Leaving on Your Mind.”
“Now She’s Got You”
and “I’m Walking the Dog”
Under a Blue Moon.
Oh, “Stupid Cupid”
for making me love you.
“Bill Bailey,
Won’t you Please Come Home?”

(C) Debi Swim – 2014

***

INFORM POETS

For the Staccato I chose Susan Schoefield’s “It’s About Time” because I have those thoughts every spring in Colorado, and it was a fun, feel-good poem. Plus it was consistent with all the rules of the form.

IT’S ABOUT TIME by Susan Schoefild

The season that chose to never depart
froze all of my toes and iced up my heart.
It’s time! It’s time! I’m done with cold.
Bundling up has gotten old.
No nice way to say it, so please get lost.
It’s time for my achy bones to defrost.

The long wait finally comes to an end
in the great return of a long, lost friend.
It’s here! It’s here! The winter stops.
Put on my shorts and grab flip-flops.
A stroll on the beach or swim in the bay,
it’s here and this lady is set to play!

© Susan Schoeffield

 

KUDOS TO SHARON, RJ, DEBI AND SUSAN FOR THESE SELECTIONS!

IT’S FLASHY FICTION FRIDAY – 5/23/14

…And it’s party time on the island.

Rob Halpin gives us an interesting photo and set-up. You need to give your interpretation. These should be out of this world!

Here’s the link to get the particulars and then write your little story. Everybody has one…

http://flashyfiction.blogspot.com/2014/05/party-time-on-island.html

INFORM POETS – STACCATO

The Staccato, created by Jan Turner, consists of two or more 6-line stanzas.

Rhyme scheme: a,a,b,b,c,c
*Required internal rhyme scheme interplay between line #1 and line #2 (see below explanation and examples).

Meter: 10, 10, 8, 8, 10, 10

Repeats: This form requires a 2-syllable repeat in Lines #3 and #6 as specified below.

As in a musical notation, the Staccato poetry form uses short repeats which are abruptly disconnected elements. The repeat words are read as rapid-fire speech, such as staccato music when played or sung. This form lends itself to strong emotion or instruction (i.e. military poems: “Charge on! Charge on!” etc.), a declaration (such as of an event: “We’re married! We’re married!” etc.), an instruction or emphasis of human emotion (such as love, hate, longing: “Be mine! Be mine!” etc.), strong observation (such as “Those eyes! Those eyes!” etc.) or any similar situation where a strong staccato repeat is desired.

The emphatic two-syllable repeat in this poetry form is written twice, consecutively, at the beginning of Line #3 (each repeat in Line #3 is followed by an exclamation mark), and once again at the beginning of Line #6 (with or without an exclamation mark in Line #6). Please see below poem examples.

Also, Line #2 requires an internal rhyme scheme that rhymes with a word within Line #1, usually falling on the 6th syllable (see examples below), but can fall earlier in those two lines as long as the internal rhyme matches the syllabic stress in both lines

The below example poems color-highlight the internal rhyme schemes and the repeats as a quick reference aid.

***

WALT’S STACCATO ATTEMPT:

MORE THAN WORDS

Words of love speak to longing hearts.
Two who choose to seek love are smart.
Love grows! Love grows! And who can know
how deeply the roots of love grow?
Poets struggle to find a way.
Love grows much more than words can say.

Poetry is fueled by our emotions
and further, is ruled by this devotion.
Hearts see! Hearts see! And poets write
just what those visions have in sight!
We “paint” images with our words.
Hearts see, the poet’s words are heard.

© Copyright Walter J Wojtanik – 2014

***

CONNIE’S STACCATO POEM:

VAMOOSE!

My time is pilfered by a common thief.
It’s persistent and why I need relief.
Be gone! Be gone! O dreadful fear!
You’ll steal no more. Get out of here!
Let boldness come, conquer and defeat you.
Be gone! May confidence catch and beat you.

My life is nibbled down by gnawing mice.
That’s why I often frown; they take their price.
Get out! Get out! Worry, vamoose!
You’ve gobbled too much, now cut loose!
Let faith be the giant cat that eats you.
Get out! Let trust be the one that cheats you.

I’m being followed by a giant snake.
I may be swallowed in one quick intake.
Scurry! Scurry! Depression, go!
Away with you, and don’t be slow!
May deep-seated joy decapitate you.
Scurry! May happiness lacerate you.

© Copyright Connie L Peters – 2014

 

PROMPT #155 – “SAY IT WITH MUSIC”: GUEST HOST – CONNIE L. PETERS

POET CONNIE L. PETERS

The Guest Host responsibilities have been embraced and used to great effect by all who have carried that torch. This week it passes to another extreme talent and passionate poet. I’m happy to navigate through this leg of our voyage with Connie L. Peters!

***

Connie L. Peters began writing in 1983. She took two courses with The Institute of Children’s Literature and has attended various writers conferences across the nation. She started with fiction and resisted poetry until she began writing a poem a day in 2004 and met up with Poetic Asides in 2008, and then Creative Bloomings. Poetry has become a significant form of expression, particularly in her prayer life. She enjoys writing about almost everything from serious to funny. She posts poetry daily on enthusiasticsoul.blogspot.com.

Her poetry has been published in The SCWA Scribe, presidentialprayerteam.com, Wrinkling.com, The Christian Communicator, Alive Now!, Mature Years, Breakthrough Intercessor, Beyond the Dark Room, A Handful of Stones, Jellyfish Whispers, The Word Place, The Barefoot Review, Bible Advocate, Poetic Bloomings: The First Year, A Blackbird Sings, Prompted, The Power of Small, Celebrating Christmas, Evangel, Cross & Quill, Wounded by Words, The Cortez Journal and The Pagosa Sun. Her fiction, devotions and articles also have been published. For more information see southwestchristianwriters.org.

She lives in southwest Colorado with her husband and two adults with developmental disabilities. Her grown children reside in Phoenix, a great place to visit in the winter time. She enjoys traveling, hiking, kayaking, reading, and playing Scrabble (or Words with Friends) and Canasta. She has traveled to 49 states, with Hawaii to go.

***

PROMPT #155 – “SAY IT WITH MUSIC” – Using your favorite singer, performer or musical group’s song titles, compose a poem. Identify the artist who inspires you!

WALT IMAGINES JOHN LENNON:

REMEMBER

Nobody told me.  I’m losing you,
oh my love. How do you sleep?
Grow old with me, your beautiful boy,
give me some truth. I feel crippled
inside , going cold turkey,
but on borrowed time. God,
I found out in a #9 dream, remember?
Imagine whatever gets you through the night.
Isolation can make one a jealous guy.
I’m just a working class hero,
watching the wheels go ‘round.
Give peace a chance… it’s just like starting over!

© Copyright Walter J Wojtanik – 2014

***

CONNIE SAYS IT WITH EDDIE RABBITT:

I’M THERE

Feel like a stranger
drivin’ my life away.
Gone too far,
great old American town,
Rocky Mountain music.

It’s me I’m running from,
runnin’ with the wind.
On second thought,
I love a rainy night.
I can’t help myself.

Hearts on fire.
Hurtin’ for you.
Hold on to me,
one and only one, amazing love.
You can’t run from love.

(C) Connie L. Peters – 2014

BRILLIANT BLOOMS: PROMPT #154 – “IT COULD BE WORSE” AND TYBURN

WOW! It’s been a busy & eventful week playing co-host. I’ve attended tea parties, birthday parties & cotillions, walked about in nature and… been dumped on… again & again! Despite that last part, thank you for letting me tinker in the garden, because it’s also been a very reading & rewarding week and I have thoroughly enjoyed it.

Tasked with the difficult assignment of selecting just a couple of poems forced me to read & reread, and read yet again – a luxury I rarely take the time to do. It was a great experience, viewing the world through everyone else’s eyes – so many different and interesting perspectives! After much consideration, below are my own choices for this week’s Brilliant Blooms.

Thanks again! It was an honor and a pleasure! 🙂 – PSC

WALT’S CHOICES:

One of the best aspects of selecting a Co-host each week is that I get a break every so often as the strength of my “poetic partner” comes to the surface and becomes the voice of the Garden, allowing me to rest my “vocal cords”. Pamela did an outstanding job and her work and dedication  have truly shone. She has taken the reins and given us a journey we’ve enjoyed. Thank you Pamela!

PROMPT #154 – “IT COULD BE WORSE”

My choice for the prompt was certainly a different take on the subject. And the poet has made a triumphant return to the Garden with his BLOOM earning poem. Damon Dean (sevenacresky) equated love to a prison sentence, and on occasion we all have to “do the time”. I loved this offering, Damon:

YOUR PRISON CELL by Damon Dean

You’re free.
You’re free indeed.
The shackles of that worthless love are gone.

Godspeed.
Good riddance too.
Don’t call. Put down the phone.

You’re through.
Her words are traps.
She’ll take it all, heart, guts, and bones.
You can’t be freed alone,
if you aren’t freed,
indeed,
from that damn phone.

© Damon Dean – 2014

***

INFORM POETS – TYBURN

I found this obnoxious little form by chance, but since we yearn to learn new things, it made our rotation. The rapid-fire rhyme had a quirky feel to it, but our poets did step up to put some savory verses on the table. And yet, some were able to take the quirk out of their pieces making the flow and message come together nicely. As Pamela has set the precedent, I have two Tyburn that qualify for recognition. First, Hannah Gosselin’s light play becomes a beautiful dance beneath the stars. Shall we?

SILVER LINING OF AN EPIPHANY

Twilight,
midnight,
moonlight,
insight…
Daylight fading – twilight…midnight now;
sea of white glows, moonlight – insight grows.

Copyright © Hannah Gosselin 2014

Then we have our resident patriot and warrior who presented with honor and a vision which is the way he seems to live his every day in service and faith. Earl Parsons takes the second part of this bloom with this poem. (Even in spite of rhyming syrple with purple in another poem – 😉 )

 

Lighting
Sighting
Fighting
Righting
Nighttime warfare lighting sighting strong
Bravely standing fighting righting wrong

 

© 2014 Earl Parsons

PAMELA’S BRILLIANT BLOOMS: 

PROMPT #154 – “IT COULD BE WORSE”
Although this prompt seemed to lend itself so easily to humor – and many folks captured the humorous aspects of this assignment very well – my choice for this particular bloom was a serious and sensitive piece. While it included those requisite “worst things you can say to someone who was just dumped”, it also contained wise (and kind and morale boosting) advice, as well as beautifully subtle indications of the passage of time (so necessary for the healing process) and some lovely metaphors.

(Despite a couple “typos” – of ‘your’ instead of you’re…)

My bloom goes to Priti for the poem “It Will Get Better”. Beautiful work, Priti!

IT WILL GET BETTER

I could see the red flags
It was about time
Glad your blinders are off
and your reading all the signs
There is really no magic formula
Just smudge some sage in your snow
Salt your wounds with sunburn
Let raindrops melt and flow
Your stronger than you think you are
Find a way to forgive
Somehow it will, get better
Just trust that it will —

***

INFORM POETS – TYBURN

Tyburn was a tough assignment, to be sure, and I was amazed at the number of excellent poems that were offered up – in spite of its restrictive limitations. Many folks managed to transform this quirky, seemingly comedic poetic form into something serious and heartfelt. Some folks really rocked this challenging form, which made this decision a bit more difficult.

If I can choose only ONE blossom, I select the sweet, lilting, musical & romantic Tyburn that takes me to an old-fashioned cotillion. Congratulations to Susan Schoeffield for her poem “Shall We?”

SHALL WE?

A chance
to dance,
perchance
romance?
As music plays, a chance to dance grows
and with the song, perchance, romance flows.
© Susan Schoeffield – 2014

***

If allowed to “bend the rules” a bit, and place TWO blooms in one vase, I’d like to add Connie Peter’s fluffy, scruffy, huffy, puffy cat. In just a few words, and carefully counted syllables, Connie paints a complete vignette, capturing perfectly the cat’s attitude & appearance. Congrats, Connie!

Fluffy
Scruffy
Huffy
Puffy
Come here silly, fluffy, scruffy cat
Slowly came and huffy, puffy sat

© Connie Peters – 2014

CONGRATULATIONS DAMON, HANNAH, EARL, PRITI, SUSAN AND CONNIE ON YOUR BLOOM EARNING POEMS.

IT’S FLASHY FICTION FRIDAY… IN CASE YOU WONDERED

We’re developing characters at FLASHY FICTION.

Check the prompt to see the trait we’re exploring!

At FLASHY FICTION, everybody has a little story to tell! 

 

 

POET INTERVIEW – LINDA EVANS HOFKE

LINDA EVANS HOFKE

Today’s guest comes to us all the way from Germany!  Perhaps that’s why it took so long for her to get into the interview chair.  Yes, yes, I’m sure that’s it. I’m just thankful she finally made it, as I’m sure you will be also.