Revelation–Poetry Potluck’s Theme of Art, Music and Poetry

D. Slotto 4/2011

Oleander and the Sky
Image by ozgurmulazimoglu via Flickr

D. Slotto 4/2011

Submitted to Poetry Potluck: and

Monday Morning Writing Prompt:


Last night as I slept
the Artist came and dabbed Oleander’s
green with brilliant buds of pink
then feathered white across
a chosen hummingbird.

Last night as I slept
the Violinist played, sweeping
his bow across the fronds of palms.
Music hummed in branches of Crepe Myrtle,
sprinkling her blossoms all across the Earth.

Last night as I slept
the Poet tossed his words into the water,
ripples bore their beauty
all across the world so sere,
so desperate for salvation.

This morning I awoke
to colors of joy,
to sounds of grace,
to possibilities of peace.

This week the Oleanders blossomed overnight, the winds howled, and a striking albino hummingbird has graced us with his presence. Happy Easter to all.

Feathered Totems–Jingle’s Poetry Potluck






Submitted to Jingle’s Poetry Potluck:

This week’s theme is language, signs and symbols. Because I have spent much of my life in areas graced by Native American culture and spirituality, I am so aware of the many lessons taught through careful observation of the role of nature in our lives. Birds, in particular, seems to come to me–both in nature and in dreams and they are said to be messengers of the Divine. I try to attune to what they may be here to teach me. This poem touches on the symbolism of  a few of the bird totems.


Feathered Totems

I am…
the cawing Raven
crying magic, mystery,
circling your life with
power of creation.

I am…
the brilliance of the Eagle
spanning space between the earth
and sky, carrying your spirit
to the top of distant mountains.

I am…
the lowly mourning Dove
echoing the sound of longing
deep within your emptiness
that God alone can fill.

I am…
the joy of Hummingbird
dancing in the morning dew,
drinking golden nectar,
nourishing your soul.

January in the Desert–Jingle’s Poetry Rally

Flowers everywhere....

Image by Per Ola Wiberg ~ Powi via Flickr

Submitted to Jingle’s Poetry Rally:

January in the Desert

I am
a wild strawberry
woven among
low-lying oleander branches,

I am
the fear that brushes
by your body in
the darkness of a dream.

I am
slipping over
mounded slopes

of snow-capped
Santa Rosa mountains
bringing rain
and night.

I slap
the rounded curves of
wind-stroked cheeks
turned skyward.

I am the hummingbird.
I wait outside
your window
with promises of joy.

Sunday 160–“Joy”

Photo: David Slotto

A hummingbird descends,
drinks honey.
Blankets of feathers
stagger across red
silken breast.
Ladles of nectar
slip down
his tawny throat,
sweeten the
pain of
Mother Earth.

Submitted to Monkey Man’s Sunday 160 in which you have 160 characters including spaces to write a poem or flash fiction. 

This is so out-of-season here (snow outside) but it doesn’t hurt to remember!


Photo Credit: David Slotto


Do hummingbirds
set goals each morning?

Today I’ll hit the
feeders at 161
then 165.
In the evening,
I’ll hover ‘round
the Carolina Jasmine.
till day’s end,
then check out
the wife and kids.

Does crossing off to-do’s
give them satisfaction?

Or is it the sweetness
of each moment?

April 2010 Photo: David Slotto

The prompt for this poem was “deadlines.”