Outside Looking In–dVerse Poetics

Photo: Victoria Slotto

Outside-Looking-In

Was it like this my entire life
or only since the years stole
in and swept away beauty and desire?

I stand here, watching shadows
of youthful joy and folly,
longing for a simple touch

or even the smile of a stranger
passing by me in Wal-Mart
as I walk slowly, using my cart as a cane.

They are so busy with their lives.
They have things to do and families
to raise and who love them. You are gone

now, leaving me to this darkness,
Gazing at life unfurling before me.
Sitting on my porch, watching

through the another’s window,
nursing memories and fears.
Waiting for death.

For Poetics at dVerse, Lillian would have us look outside or inside a window. The poem I’ve written isn’t about me, but it is something I have encountered so very often working as a nurse with, for the most part, elderly patients. Though I don’t feel old, I know age is sneaking up on me, so I begin to look at things more often from the perspective of the elderly. Please, don’t forget them!

Grieving–dVerse Quadrille #36

Grieving

I’m so caught up in flicker-
flashes of your presence, though
I can’t see you. I find you cached
in photos, letters, a memory.

You journals suck me into the rip-
tide of your life, drown me in joy,
sadness–wishing I’d been there.

A second poem for Grace’s Flicker Prompt at dVerse Haibun #36. Please join us.

Photo: David Slotto
My mother’s 90th birthday party. She died 4 days before her 96th, the end of last year.

Late Summer–dVerse Quadrille

Photo: David Slotto
Northern Flicker

Summer begins to fade.
Trees share foliage with earth
Vegetable garden spills its seeds.

When he appears I hold my breath,
taken aback at beauty new to me.
Ruddy-headed, spotted Northern Flicker.

Summer begins to fade
but shares her gifts with us
even now.

Welcome back to the pub, everyone. I hope you all enjoyed your break. Today, for dVerse Quadrille Monday, Grace is asking us to use the word FLICKER in a poem of exactly 44 words, excluding title. I write of the appearance of this woodpecker that I’ve never seen before in our region–a Northern Flicker. He surprised us last summer. I grabbed our bird book and David, the camera, and we got several photos of him. His visit lasted only a few minutes but he had his fill.

For the month of July, Jilly is offering a wonderful prompt on collaborative poetry. At the end of this post, I will give you the basics as she presented them, but be sure to visit her site where she gives an inspirational introduction.

In this post, I have written the first half of a poem. The challenge is for one of you to complete it and post it, following Jilly’s instructions.

This poem is written in tercets, 3-line poetry, without rhyme but using  an iambic beat, regardless of the number of iambs. Looking at the first line of this poem, the beat is da DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM–that is, the heavy accent on the DUM, there being 7 iambs. I’ve numbered the rest of them. If you would like to play with my half to make it all the same, go for it.

7-5-17 Revision to add stanzas contributed by Maureen Sudlow and Jilly, the hostess of this prompt. Maureen’s are in Green and Jilly, in Purple.

7-7-17 Another revision, adding stanza’s by Charley in Brown. Great sift from being to doing.

Photo: David Slotto

 

Who Am I, You Ask

I am the tiny finch who fills the air with song at dawn. (7)
I am the bronze of sun on snow-capped hills. (5)
I am the play of wind upon the leafy ash. (6)

I am the ocean’s waves caressing sand and shells. (6)
I am the youthful fool—reckless, full of joy. (6–the dash as a soft beat)
I am the ache of old ones shuttered in the dark. (6)

I am the crumpled fading leaves
the glint of sun on foam-capped waves
I am the dust of planets born

I am the healing for the ancients breaking down the glass. 
I am the wisdom found in children – secreting the glee. 
I am the torrent deep who shapes the distant shores and sky. 

I am the wicked gale that tears the fertile blooms. 
I am the cresting dawn on valleys warm and lush. 
I am the eagle strong who silences the song.

I sing in many voices dawn and dusk that man ignores.
I bring the beauty forth in nature’s palates pure.
I breathe comfort that cools the heat or melts the snow.

I rock oceans deep, the stormy crash or gentle lull.
I energize the heated youth who sings out praise.
I agitate the longing for a final rest, a rescue home. 

HERE ARE JILLY’S ABBREVIATED INSTRUCTIONS:

The July Challenge is basically this:  Write half of a poem and open it up to fellow Challengers to finish it.  Since we are all fabulous poets, the greater challenge of this will not be the poetry, but the logistics, so I am including the steps.

  1. Write the first half of a poem
  2. Post it on your blog with a link back here to The July Challenge
  3. Include a little something about the form you are using. Is it Free Verse, Sonnet, Quadrille, etc?
  4. If you are using a form, please give a link to a site that explains that form or just give a little refresher.

HERE IS THE LINK TO JILLY’S JULY CHALLENGE: COLLABORATIVE POETRY

 

Jilly’s July Challenge–Collaborative Poetry, Revised

a spill of diamonds–dVerse Open Link Night

Photo: april-mo
labeled for non-commercial reuse

a spill of diamonds

in early morn before the world awakes
upon each blade of grass a treasure rests
for those who choose to see

such grace descends upon the earth
so catch the play of color and of light
the burst of life within each drop

a sparkle-dance that waits beneath
a fallen leaf or hid behind a rock
just begs for us to see it shine

What a special treat Bjorn offered us today for dVerse OLN. If you haven’t visited his very thought-provoking podcast on the site, don’t miss it. I especially loved his poem and his thoughts about space–space between words and inner space–thoughts that complement the beginning of dVerse’s Summer Break! Please stop by, post and read. And comment!

So sorry I didn’t make it by earlier. It’s been hectic this summer.

Gold–dVerse Haibun Monday

Gold

I remember the scent of summers from my childhood—the sweet waft of delicate blossoms abuzz with bees, followed later by that of the small golden globes that grew from them. Oh, the soft touch of ripening skin, carefully tended by my watchful grandpa, who allowed no one close to them until they had come unto their fullness.

He’d let me watch the harvest, but not squeeze the fruit, almost as protective of it as he was with me. Then he’d pile me between Mama and him into his 1940-something red Ford pickup and we’d tootle down the hill to Mr. Dinwiddie’s whose enormous yard held a number of sprawling trees like our own.

At last, the day had come: let the games begin! He and Mama set out on their annual quest for gold—the gold of apricot jam. The competition was fierce. Grandma and I watched from afar as she read to me—“Once upon a time…” When the battle concluded, we tasted, but never declared the winner. We all savored gold.

spring blossoms give way
to succulent summer fruit
birds feast on the scraps

Photo: maxipixel: labeled for non-commercial reuse.

This week Grace is hosting Haibun Monday  at dVerse and asks us to share a nonfiction account from our warehouse of memories, followed by a haiku. This one goes way back to my very young childhood when my widowed mother and I still lived with my grandparents. And Dinwiddie was the man’s real name–not hard to forget!

Bless You, Little Things

 

Photo: Victoria Slotto

Bless You, Little Things

I bless you, all you little things—
you gifts, ignored by humankind.

You, honey bees and tiny blooms,
Eight-legged spider in my room,

your lacy web and stealthy style,
you may stay here just a while.

I bless you, bird’s nest in our tree,
just cached beneath a bunch of leaves,

and wee blue eggs that nestle there,
concealed from Jays, yes, take care.

I bless the sun’s first ray of light
and slivered silver moon at night.

You, chipmunk, scurry ‘cross the grass
and disappear. You are so fast.

And bless the seed beneath the soil,
nature’s largesse to bring us joy.

I praise the Maker of all things.
May we find you in all life brings.

(Even earwhigs?)

Today’s prompt at dVerse Poetics, offered by Paul Scribbles, is to write a blessing, something our poor world needs now and always. Please consider writing one and linking it to our poetry community. A little something positive goes a long way.