This week, take one of your sentences from last week and build it into your poem.. Simple as that.
WALT ADVANCES:
LOVE POEMS ARE JUST WORDS
She found she couldn’t compete with love. It sounded wonderful in a neat little poem. But love poems are just words and she didn’t believe words anymore. He found it hard to express his heart and so he didn’t even try to anymore. She found she couldn’t compete with love. She just didn’t care. (c) Walter J Wojtanik - 2023
Oops! Set the post time at 6 this evening instead of in the morning. My thumbs just weren’t on point lat night! Sorry poets. That one’s on me. Marie is still MIA doing Good!
If Wishes Built Legs
I yearn for the day
I might hike trails again,
letting my mind search
for a poetic refrain,
even as my brain is jogged,
before I set off at the start,
knowing the loveliest strain
must stem from my heart.
Touché
Love this one Daniel!
And it often does, Daniel! So much stems from your beautiful heart! Your expression of it is certainly a gift!
Beautiful, Daniel.
Not a Movie Scene
Strange feelings nestled in my belly
as I took in the view
of the busy street
with the usual cars, vans, busses
plus old and tiny cars,
bicycle taxis—
customer clinging to the driver.
Tall trellises filled with greenery
to make up for loss to concrete.
People scurrying here to there,
not unusual in a city
but the number of them!
And peddler after peddler
accosting vehicles
selling their wares: thrift-store stuff
or items from a discount store,
and bunches of bananas and
bundles of taro root.
I watched through a window
like a TV screen,
but this was Nairobi life,
not a movie scene.
Nicely done. I felt like I was looking via drone, waiting to see where I was, and it did not disappoint
Agreed
Intrigued about the location, Connie! Loved the way you took us there! I could smell the bananas!
Nice imagery in this,Connie.
MARVELLOUS MARVIN
When Marvin lost a sandal,
he thought it a major scandal;
he simply couldn’t handle
his own ineptitude.
He warped his teeth with gnashes
and cut himself with lashes;
he wore sackcloth and ashes
to complement his mood.
At first I didn’t buy it
or think he’d really try it,
but he really had a diet
of truly inedible food,
and all this flagellation
caused nothing but constipation;
in the end, his aggravation
was something that he rued.
Despite this fractured history
a highly solemn consistory,
in a process laced with mystery,
made him a cardinal dude.
Here’s a truism that bears repeating;
it almost could be a rule:
stupidity is self-defeating
except for exceptions to the rule.
Most entertaining and charming, William! The rhyming is exceptional and the visuals, very clear! So well done!
Excellent rhyming and story, William!
TAKING A YEARN TOO FAR
pull up a seat
on a brilliant star
avoid edgy heat
no matter where you are
feel what you long for
make it a focus
push it hard, give it more
next, do share it with us
once you learn to value that yearn
it will drive you until it’s done
you’ll undoubtedly feel the burn
grab your courage, become the sun
keep it a secret or openly share
just don’t stop longing inside
maybe toss it high in the air
or choose to let it endlessly hide
dig that yearning out
wear it on your billowy sleeve
just don’t listen to the doubt
or long for the yearn and grieve
be proud to carry it, let it speak
tune into what it really needs
maybe fulfill it, week after week
or be willing to just plant seeds
trying too hard could make us crazy
if so, maybe ease off the yearning
not to become too terribly lazy
it never hurts to be more discerning
(c) Janet Rice Carnahan 2023
Hearing music with this one.
Thank you, William!
“Be willing to just plant seeds”
Beautiful thoughts here, Janet.
YEARNING FOR MOONLIGHT
She yearned for silent moonlight slipping
over the hillside. The high tides in her heart
carried heavy-laden burdens far, far away.
Wading in sweet pools of milk-grey light—
until mesmerizing flows swept her aimlessly
into another day.
Benjamin Thomas
Love this, especially “milk-grey” light. What a perfect description!
Agreed.
Thank you sir!
So enjoyed your visuals here, Benjamin, and the revealed tenderness! I agree with William regarding the ‘milk-grey light’!! Excellent choice!
Thank you!!
Strangely Normal
To think me strange
Is to assume you normal
But what is normal
And what is strange
I consider you strange
Since you think yourself normal
For I’m the most normal
Of all those who are strange
Gorgeous!
So enjoyed this poem, Earl! Especially, ‘I consider you strange, since you think yourself normal’! Wonderfully said!
Very cool, Earl!
CONNIE
There was never a lovelier plane in the sky
than the Lockheed Constellation;
the sound, when those Wrights went thundering by,
elicited admiration
and made me think, with a tearful eye
and a lingering libation,
that if there’s a heaven to which I might fly,
let me go in a Constellation.
Love your use of ‘constellation’, William! Very few words to your poem but they made it come to life as it seemingly flew right off the page! So enjoyed this!
And Sipping Ginger Tea
I sit at my desk,
Waiting for the tree leaves, while
I sip ginger tea.
Mary Elizabeth Todd
February 27, 2023
I think ginger tea is incredible! Well worth taking someone’s time to sip!! A sweet poem, Mary!
thanks and it also helps with the nausea that I am experiencing since the two iron infusions
I always have ginger tea in the house. I find it very helpful for stomach ailments.
While I feel weak…
While I feel weak,
I long for the day I feel
The tips of my fingers and toes, and
My blood is not red water, but
Flows thickly through me,
But today I am weak and broken.
Still
I shout…
Let the Healing Begin.
Mary Elizabeth Todd
February 27, 2023
Indeed, Mary, let the ‘healing begin’! That’s the spirit!!
thank you
This is tough for me…
For the last decade and a half,
I have looked upon dread
On this day…
The day my mother was born…
The day my last brother died.
They were tied together
In their going as much
As they were tied together in life.
Ma told me that Joe was always
Clinging close to her…
It is the reason when she dropped a hammer
When he was three…
It hit him and same for the burn.
I was not like him…
I was the escapee,
Looking for a way out…
I never liked strawberry cake
But because Joe liked it
I got it for my birthday.
Now I miss it for I miss him,
And I miss her.
His birthday falls a day later
Except on leap year.
These days hit me hard each year
For they are both beyond my hugs,
This is tough for me this year
For I feel pain everywhere,
And sleep eludes me.
I am tired of being tired,
And I will see no one I love today…
Mary Elizabeth Todd
February 28, 2023
Oh, Mary! I so feel this for you! Yes, tough memories on those dates! Especially moved by, ‘They are both beyond my hugs’, and ‘I will see no one I love today’! Go gently with yourself, Mary!
Amen
Thank you today has been especially difficult for me
That is hard to swallow. I have a candlelit for my Dad today. Still can’t believe he is gone.
Thank you so much Janet. I am going out to buy some cat food. The beasts don’t know they are without.
Competing with love when we don’t care is futile, I agree, Walt! The heart has got to be in the game!! A beautiful poem about just words without true feeling!! Well done, Walt!
thank you Janet, and I know your wounds of grief are still fresh…They mean a lot to me.
The Big Bake-off
She thought is was just for fun,
would not compete, didn’t care who won
in a silly bake-off of cakes.
And just how high were the stakes?
There would have to be a judge
against whom there could be no grudge.
She had assumed they’d sample all wares,
exchange recipes, have some laughs, and cheers.
Since this would not be the case,
She baked coconut cake for family; none went to waste.
For me, the long “a” sounds here are almost like trim on the frosting. Love it.
Thanks, William!
Loved the last two lines, Sara! It brought that cake home, right where it would be savored and flavored just right!
Absolutely. And, she loves coconut cake!
Thanks, Janet.
Patterns
tough like luck
and bad steak cheap
wine
the longer she chewed
on either/any
the harder to digest/dissect
so she sat in that office
meant to be homey
with its seashell afghan
and conchs from places
she’d never been nor
would ever be
but it was tough the sum
total chalked up to luck
or fate or karma
how her body
didn’t process serotonin
and left her grasping
gasping for the elusive
hidden in tiny round discs
she shook out each morning
or take the night she lost
a needle hunting for an hour
before she stepped in a puddle
of pink thread and spied
a tiny shiny shaft wondering
why she’d had to spend sixty
precious minutes before
the universe was restored
to its rightful spinning
but if anything she was determined
to keep at it to push through
so she tasted chewed fingered
felt ached and cried and kicked
still trying to suss it all out
even as she sat calmly writing
down the pattern of those afghan shells.
Fascinating, especially the needle juxtaposed with the universe.
“ or take the night she lost
a needle hunting for an hour
before she stepped in a puddle
of pink thread and spied
a tiny shiny shaft wondering
why she’d had to spend sixty
precious minutes before
the universe was restored
to its rightful spinning”
I love the thoughts in this stanza, Pat!
Thank you. Karma such an interesting concept!!
It is indeed!
The somber tone of your poem, Walt, has a triphammer effect, or so it seems to me.
Two people whose love lives were disappointing to the point where it’s only words. Nice one, Walt.
I enjoyed your pattern poem, Pat! Especially liked, ‘the longer she chewed on either,/any the harder to digest/dissect’ and the ‘rightful spinning’ referring to the needle and the universe! Great images!
Thank you!!