the atmosphere on the street tonight

Photo: Victoria Slotto

the atmosphere on the street tonight

the heart makes the simplest things
so damn complicated.
you teased me from my lethargy,
drew me into shade-like shadows
of a recessed doorway on a street—
dark, deserted in new moon night

drumming rain on pavement
patters frantic rhythms, hypnotic.
i yield then beneath a lone streetlight
(to love) that floods me in the darkness.

but that was then.
and now you fill the room with emptiness.
i taste the void and wonder why
my heart still hopes
because i know that things so simple
can become so complicated.

I gleaned the title from the Moody Blues:
“The Other Side of Life”

Written and Linked to dVerse Poetics where Anthony tosses us some lines to play with and make our own. Stop on over, pick up the prompt and see where it takes you. This is based on something from my long ago past (thank God).

And let’s wish much luck to Anthony, who is stepping away from the Pub to pursue his career with his new publisher. Bravo.

On a Night Like This

Photo: publicphoto.org

On a Night Like This

55 Words

On a night when the full

moon slices through cloud

cover, gilds maple leaves—

On a night when the breath

of wind whispers empty

promises, feigns delight, deceives—

On that night we stand in dark-

ness, waiting to dispel the chill

that came between us.

On a night like that, Sun

dawdles, lingers to the East.

Linked to dVerse Open Link Night–a delayed response to Sam’s prompt last Thursday for a 55 word poem. The extreme cold is nonfiction (-4 degrees F early morning) but the scenario is fiction. The pub opens in about 45 minutes. (12:00 PM EST) Come on in and warm up…or if you’re in the Southern Hemisphere, chill out! Poetry and community abounds.

October Waning

October Waning

Early morning sun kisses the foothills
with hues of bronze and purple.
You descend the staircase.
I wait for your touch to heal my wounds.

As always, you gloss over my sadness,
take me in your arms as though I were a doll
abandoned by a child in a corner of the room.
Your love restores my hope for the moment.

At noon we wander in a field of pumpkin gourds.
Among a bed of drooping roses one stands tall.
You slice its stem with your pocket knife,
inhale its fragrance then hand it to me.

When evening comes we sit together on the porch,
extract the last ray of light from day’s end.
You hook your arm in mine
and lead me gently back into the night.

I am posting this in response to yesterday’s Monday Morning Writing Prompt (on this blog) and also linking it to dVerse Open Link Night at http://dversepoets.com  If you haven’t stopped by this wonderful poetry community to imbibe of great poetry and good friendship, I suggest you hustle on over and serve up something of your own. OLN opens for your enjoyment Tuesday 3 PM EDT.

Wordsmith Wednesday–12 Sources of Poetic Inspiration

Image via Wikipedia

Today I’ve been considering the sources we poets turn to for poetic inspiration–so today’s Wordsmith Wednesday is for poets although I’m sure that it can be useful to prose writers as well. I’m going to short-list some of the sources I turn to to be inspired in my writing. I’m hoping that you will add to it in the comments section.

• Nature–look for details, metaphors, lessons that are present all around us. When stuck, it often helps me to take a walk. I’m blessed to live in a place that is replete with nature’s offerings.
• Reading–read other poets. Their work often tickles my creative muse. I’ve mentioned some of my favorites in my list of recommended reading.
• News sources–look for the seeds of story-poems hidden in the newspaper, on the Internet or on TV news broadcast.
• Poetic Forms–do an Internet search and check out poetic forms. For me, the discipline of a form can jump-start and idea.
• Spirituality–look to metaphysical/religious ideas and writings such as the Bible or holy books of other spiritual traditions. Look within at your own spiritual experience.
• Relationships–these evoke emotional reactions that are often begging to be expressed.
• History–check out historical events as well as your own history. There are stories to tell.
• Mythology–although this is not an area of expertise for me, I’ve read much poetry that draws on the classical myths, stories that transcend time.
• Science–a wonderful well-spring of poetic inspiration.
• Art–Use painting, sculpture, photography and translate your experience into words.
• Writing Prompts–those of us who participate in writing communities have a wealth of material tossed out at us on a daily or weekly basis. Check out some of the sites on my blogroll. I’d love to see you link up to my own Monday Morning Writing Prompt.
• Political issues–need I say more? My personal viewpoint is to stay away from personal attacks and stick to the issues.

I hope these will be helpful to you, especially if you are feeling stuck right now. There are more–help me expand the list if you will!

Gone with a Sigh

Gone with a Sigh

Near-winter dampness invades the room,
infects our space, lingers in the air like
twinning wisps of frigid breath and
smoke from your cigarette.

You cannot speak or won’t.
Perhaps you heard me. Maybe not.
Or did you seal your ears against the sound
of my newfound understanding?

By the ice-etched window, quiet still,
you stand, scratching petroglyphs
with your fingernail, eyes fixed on a quail
huddled in the branches of a juniper.

Remembering how I wept
when first I read those words,
(only a girl, I could not comprehend
an ending without joy) I sigh.

And though you do not say them now—
not my dear, nor brutal acclamation,
silence screams across the room. It’s true,
you do not give a damn.

But unlike Rhett, you stay—
a witness to hope’s dying whisper.
You do not stir the embers struggling
to give warmth. Our fireplace goes cold.

Submitted to One Shot Wednesday: http://onestoppoetry.com/

Leonnyes Z to A Challenge: “F” is for Fire

Image by slworking2 via Flickr

Submitted to Leonnyes Z to A Challenge: http://leonnyes.wordpress.com/

Fire

In my dream,
spot-fires bleed across the foothills,
crest on the summit,
swoop into our valley.

In the morning,
when I awaken,
you are gone.

One Shot Wednesday: Gone with a Sigh

Cover of Gone with the Wind

I was honored to have this poem featured on Jingle’s Poetry Potluck this week, so now I’m posting it on my blog to feature for One Shot Poetry. Hope you enjoy it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gone with a Sigh

Near-winter dampness invades the room,
infects our space, lingers in the air like
twinning wisps of frigid breath and
smoke from your cigarette.

You cannot speak or won’t.
Perhaps you heard me. Maybe not.
Or did you seal your ears against the sound
of my newfound understanding?

By the ice-etched window, quiet still,
you stand, scratching petroglyphs
with your fingernail, eyes fixed on a quail
huddled in the branches of a juniper.

Remembering how I wept
when first I read those words,
(only a girl, I could not comprehend
an ending without joy) I sigh.

And though you do not say them now—
not my dear, nor brutal acclamation,
silence screams across the room. It’s true,
you do not give a damn.

But unlike Rhett, you stay—
a witness to hope’s dying whisper.
You do not stir the embers struggling
to give warmth. Our fireplace goes cold.

Jingle’s Poetry Potluck: http://jinglepoetry.blogspot.com/

One Shot Poetry: http://oneshotpoetry.blogspot.com/