Category Archives: We Write Poems

3 March 2015 · 8:00 am

·•·ϔ·•· person·if·i·cat·ion of the sea ·•·ϔ·•·

·ϔ·

• ·ϔ· •

Searching my heart for its true sorrow,
This is the thing I find to be:
That I am weary of words and people,
Sick of the city, wanting the sea.

Imagine, if you will, that I am speaking to you in a language you understand. Hear me in the waves lapping upon the shore. Hold a seashell to your ear ~ close your eyes and listen for I will be there. I am all water on this Earth. You call me many names ~ oceans, seas, rivers and lakes; ponds and streams and brooks. The name matters not, all water ~ even rain… even ice ~ is me. I run through your body and the bodies of all creatures and growing things. I am everywhere there is life.

Wanting the sticky, salty sweetness
Of the strong wind and shattered spray;
Wanting the loud sound and the soft sound
Of the big surf that breaks all day.

You ask how can this be? That I am everywhere… the depth and breadth of my mighty oceans is greater than you can imagine. The wind assists me in my travels. The moon carries me back and forth upon the shores. The force you call gravity draws the rain from the clouds back to my breast. The rivers run to me ~ their divine being. I am a force above all others. I can be gentle and life-giving or I can be cruel and terrifying. I am.

Always I climbed the wave at morning,
Shook the sand from my shoes at night,
That now am caught beneath great buildings,
Stricken with noise, confused with light.

As I run through you, so I call to you. Atop the highest mountain, amid the driest desert, in the heat or in the cold, in the dark of night or light of day ~ always I call to you. Your need for me is deep within the race-memories of your cells. I was here for millions of years before life was formed in the dark of my belly. Tiny amoebas, bacteria, algae, plants, fish, reptiles. Eventually some bored of me and crawled out upon the land and breathed the air and forgot where they were birthed. But, always, I remain a part of you.

If I could see the weedy mussels
Crusting the wrecked and rotting hulls,
Hear once again the hungry crying
Overhead, of the wheeling gulls.

You cannot live without me. Nothing can live without me. I do not say this pridefully, it is simply fact. Whether you are a creature of the land, the sea or the air; you must have water to survive. And I must have you to feel complete. Though there are innumerable differences between us, there are also molecules that we share. You may think I do not live but how can you say I am not alive when every living being is made in part by the mystical, magical molecules that form me? Life came from within me no matter what your form. Call it what you will ~ science, creation, magic or miracle.

I should be happy, — that was happy
All day long on the coast of Maine!
I have a need to hold and handle
Shells and anchors and ships again!

I shall tell you what I think then you decide… I remain a part of you. I call to your very soul from every tide… every wave… every drop of rain. Because we all have the divine spark within us that connects us throughout time and space. I gave birth to you and gifted you with a part of me. We cannot escape one another. I do not wish to part from you and I don’t believe you wish to part from me. We are. And we are blessed.

• ɤ · ϔ · ɤ •

ɤ · ϔ · ɤ

· ϔ ·

·ϔ·

“Oceans” Pearl Jam

the form { i hope } is a type of prose-poetry, interspersing the poetry of Edna St. Vincent Millay through my prose, or story-telling. many thanks to Anna Montgomery for her prompt at dVerse ~ Poets Pub. i also wish to thank Julie at We Write Poems for her prompt to write a persona poem, from the point of view of someone or something other than myself.

i used some, but not all, of Edna St. Vincents’ poem “Exiled” which you can read in its entirety HERE. there is also a bio HERE.

image ~ “Rime of the sea” TempestasRex on deviantART
ɤ

originally posted 5 October 2012

prompted by ~

Meeting the Bar: Postmodern (Prose) at dVerse ~ Poets Pub
prompt: write a prose-poem or incorporate passages of prose into your poem

thank you, Anna!

Prompt #126 Your Masquerade Party at We Write Poems

prompt: write a persona poem, also called mask poems. { they are written from a perspective other than one’s own. Whether it’s a friend, enemy, relative, pet, inanimate object, historical figure or someone completely fictionalized, think and write as if you were the other character, bringing them to life and capturing their world. Wearing their “costume” gives you permission to step out of your comfort zone and change your style, tone and perspective. }

thank you, Julie!

1 Comment

Filed under blog anniversary, Creative Every Day, dVerse ~ Poets Pub, NaBloPoMo, poetry, Post-A-Day, prose poetry, review, We Write Poems

Tagged as dVerse ~ Poets Pub, NaBloPoMo, ocean, poetry, postaday, prose poetry, sea, We Write Poems

1 February 2013 · 4:45 pm

·❦ •Ꮼ• ❧· blackbirds ·❦ •Ꮼ• ❧·

Ꮼ

•Ꮼ

• Ꮼ •

caw!

hateful man-thing!
let go of my legs!
let me fly! i need to fly!
you must let me go
for i am king of blackbirds!

❦

caw! caw!

where am i?
“this be the man-king’s milhaus” said a pretty little blackbird
another squawked “we be the man-king’s dinner!”
“don’t be silly!” cooed the lovely little bird
and next to her i did fly

❦

caw! caw! caw!

“you must be my queen” said i
“and you my king” said she
and with that we flew up high
into the dark of the rafters
where sweet love we did make

❦

caw! caw… caww… caaaaw

we watched from the safety of our perch
as four and twenty blackbirds
were smoked into oblivion
so they cared not where they were
and the man-things took them all away

❦

caw! caw! caw! caw!

come springtime
we had four little blackbirds
with hungry mouths to feed
my queen, a regal mother
and i, her loving king

·❦ •Ꮼ• ❧·

❦ •Ꮼ• ❧

• Ꮼ •

Ꮼ

this song was found in the comments on another blog ~ LOVE it!

“Blackbirds” Erin McKeown

❦

artwork ~ “Shades of Raven” Denise Broussard
{ fair use ~ image found on google.com }

❦

this poem was inspired by the prompts and by the song “Blackbirds” by Erin McKeown which references the old nursery rhyme “Sing A Song of Sixpence” ~

Sing a song of sixpence,

A pocket full of rye.

Four and twenty blackbirds,

Baked in a pie.

When the pie was opened,

The birds began to sing;

Wasn’t that a dainty dish,

To set before the king?

The king was in his counting house,

Counting out his money;

The queen was in the parlour,

Eating bread and honey.

The maid was in the garden,

Hanging out the clothes;

When down came a blackbird

And nipped off her nose.

There was such a commotion,

that little Jenny wren;

Flew down into the garden,

and put it back again

❦

many interpretations have been placed on this rhyme, but it is known that a 16th-century amusement was to place live birds in a pie, as a form of entremet, which originally was an elaborate form of entertainment dish common among the nobility and upper middle class in Western Europe. live birds were slipped into a baked pie shell through a hole cut in its bottom and would fly out when the pie was cut into at the banquet.

❦

this is my submission to ~

❦

The Beast in You at POETRY JAM
prompt: write from the point of view of an animal–any animal but a human

thank you, Peggy!

❦

Prompt #141 Could you repeat that, please? at We Write Poems
prompt: Write a poem using anaphora*

thank you, Julie!

*Anaphora (pronounced “ah-NAF-oh-rah”) means “I repeat.” Whether in prose or poetry, anaphora is a repetition device where the same expression (word or words) is repeated at the beginning of two or more lines, clauses, sentences or verses. In poetry the repetition of the phrase can be just at the beginning of each line, setting the tone as a kind of meditation or a mantra, or it can be utilized more subtlety within the poem. The poem can be free verse or prose style.

❦

i am also participating in ~

❦

NaBloPoMoSoup

❦

“Blackbirds” Erin McKeown

lyrics ~

four and twenty blackbirds
perched o’er the milhaus floor,
four and twenty blackbirds
perched o’er the milhaus floor,
watching a pair of blackbirds
a pair of blackbirds more,
four and twenty blackbirds
perched o’er the milhaus floor.

said one blackbird to the other,
“you must be my queen,”
said one blackbird to the other,
“you must be my queen,”
well, the other replied in turn,
“well, sure enough you my king.”
four and twenty blackbirds and
two began to sing.

the queen she sang of milhaus
rising to the sky,
the king he sang of riches baked
in a honey pie.
stick your finger in and taste it
on the sly.
sing a song of six-pence
and a pocketful of rye.

now, the queen she asked that question,
“what makes the milhaus rare?”
the king replied in turn,
“well, tonight it’s you so fair.”
four and twenty blackbirds
too baked themselves to care,
fly away you dainty dish,
two blackbirds flew upstairs.

when that sun had risen
the rhyming it was through.
when that sun had risen
yeah, yeah, the rhyming it was through.
four and twenty blackbirds
had rhymed that whole night through,
fly away two blackbirds
with nothing left to prove.

you count that blackbird lucky
who first to fly away,
bitter that taste left behind and
the lonesome heart astray.

pity not that blackbird,
the blackbird who must stay,
for having tasted blackbird pie,
baked and on display.

four and twenty blackbirds
four and twenty blackbirds
perched o’er the milhaus floor,
watching a pair
watching a pair of blackbirds
watching a pair of blackbirds
a pair of blackbirds more

❦

22 Comments

Filed under anaphora poetry, NaBloPoMo, poetry, Poetry Jam, Post-A-Day2013, We Write Poems

Tagged as NaBloPoMo, poetry, Poetry Jam, postaday, We Write Poems

14 January 2013 · 12:00 pm

ⵈꖓ ∙ꗥ∙ ⵈ unfamiliar ⵈ ∙ꗥ∙ ꖓⵈ

ꗥ

∙ ꗥ ∙

i lived in constant fear
too much of this life
fleeting glimpses
still come and go

i recognize it
but it’s unfamiliar
i remember feeling it
but not what it felt like

sorrow was once
my most loyal companion
in reality i was alone
though i clung to my illusions

i recognize it
but it’s unfamiliar
i remember feeling it
but not what it felt like

there are wisps of anger,
shame and loss behind my eyes;
a faint taste of pain
lingers on my tongue

i recognize them
but they’re unfamiliar
i remember feeling them
but not what they felt like

ⵈꖓ ∙ꗥ∙ ꖓⵈ

ꖓ ∙ꗥ∙ ꖓ

ⵈ ∙ꗥ∙ ⵈ

∙ꗥ∙

“The Pain is Gone” Black Lab

ꖆ

artwork ~ “Dream of a Memory” Sabin Balasa
{ fair use }

ꖆ

this is my submission to ~

ꖆ

Open Link Monday at imaginary garden with real toads
submit a new or old poem

thank you, Kerry!

ꖆ

Prompt #138 The memoir project at We Write Poems
prompt: Write a poem about how the past is reinvented through memory

thank you, Irene!

ꖆ

Open Link Night ~ Week 79 at dVerse ~ Poets Pub
submit a new or old poem

thank you, Joe!

ꖆ

Poetry Pantry #134 at Poets United
submit a new or old poem

thank you, Mary!

ꖆ

i am also participating in ~

ꖆ

NaBloPoMoSoup

ꖆ

“The Pain is Gone” Black Lab

lyrics ~

I’ll take a photograph
Whatever makes you laugh
But come on step out of the rain
You’d hate to catch your death
All the life that you got left
Lit up like a candle on your face

There are words that are fadin’
And I’m trying not to say ’em
Before they fall into the fog
But every single day, once or twice an hour
The shadow falls away and I see you walking in a straight line

And the pain is gone, the pain is gone
I recognize it but it’s unfamiliar
Now the pain is gone, the pain is gone
I recognize it but it’s unfamiliar

Every year there’s a place
Only you and I go
I didn’t mean to push you
I didn’t mean to laugh when you fell
I didn’t mean to shout when you got hurt
I didn’t mean to argue
I didn’t mean to criticize you
And I’m sorry for saying I didn’t like your skirt

There are demons that are screaming
And I’m trying not to feed them
As I carry water for us through the dirt
I always need you near me, I always need you near me
I don’t know what I’d do if I was walking here without you

And the pain is gone, the pain is gone
I recognize it but it’s unfamiliar
Now the pain is gone, the pain is gone
I recognize it but it’s unfamiliar

Every year there’s a place
Only you and I go
There are things about me
Only you will ever know

And the pain is gone, the pain is gone
I recognize it but it’s unfamiliar
Now the pain is gone, the pain is gone
I recognize it but it’s unfamiliar

Send all my love, send all my love
I recognize it but it’s unfamiliar
Send all my love, send all my love
I recognize it but it’s unfamiliar

There are things about me
Only you will ever know
And this sweet dream will end
And I will wake from this life
Again… and again…
And again… and again… and again

ꖆ

36 Comments

Filed under dVerse ~ Poets Pub, imaginary garden with real toads, NaBloPoMo, poetry, Poets United, Post-A-Day2013, Post-A-Week2013, We Write Poems

Tagged as dVerse ~ Poets Pub, imaginary garden with real toads, NaBloPoMo, poetry, Poets United, postaday, postaweek, We Write Poems

16 November 2012 · 3:37 am

∙э •Ѡ• є∙ shades of gray

∙ Ѡ ∙

Nothing is only all white or all black… all truth or all lies… all good or all evil.

There are possibilities within the shades of gray.

Where possibility exists, there is hope.

∙э •Ѡ• є∙

∙ •Ѡ• ∙

•Ѡ•

“A Pleasant Shade of Gray VI”

artwork ~ “Composition in gray (Rag Time)” Theo van Doesburg
{ public domain }

this is my submission to ~

Wonder Wednesday #9 Shades of Grey at Poets United
prompt: write a poem about the fine lines, the between, the shades of grey

thank you, Ella!

Prompt #132 Times three at We Write Poems

prompt: Write a poem composed of three perfect sentences.
{ i don’t believe perfection can be achieved. }

thank you, neil!

Carry On Tuesday # 181 at Carry on Tuesday
prompt: a quote by Mahatma Gandhi
“Where there is love there is life”
{ use all or part }

thank you, Keith!

Theme Thursday 15 November 2012 at Theme Thursday
prompt: Possibilities

thank you, Mrsupole!

i am also participating in ~

NaBloPoMoSoup

8 Comments

Filed under Carry on Tuesday, NaBloPoMo, poetry, Poets United, Post-A-Day2012, Post-A-Week2012, THEME THURSDAY, We Write Poems

Tagged as Carry on Tuesday, NaBloPoMo, poetry, Poets United, postaday, postaweek, Theme Thursday, We Write Poems

5 October 2012 · 4:44 am

·•·ϔ·•· person·if·i·cat·ion of the sea ·•·ϔ·•·

·ϔ·

• ·ϔ· •

Searching my heart for its true sorrow,
This is the thing I find to be:
That I am weary of words and people,
Sick of the city, wanting the sea.

Wanting the sticky, salty sweetness
Of the strong wind and shattered spray;
Wanting the loud sound and the soft sound
Of the big surf that breaks all day.

Always I climbed the wave at morning,
Shook the sand from my shoes at night,
That now am caught beneath great buildings,
Stricken with noise, confused with light.

As I run through you, so I call to your soul. Atop the highest mountain, amid the driest desert, in the heat or in the cold, in the dark of night or light of day ~ always I call to you. Your need for me is deep within the race-memories of your cells. I was here for millions of years before life was formed in the dark of my belly. Tiny amoebas, bacteria, algae, plants, fish, reptiles. Eventually some bored of me and crawled out upon the land and breathed the air and forgot where they were birthed. But always, I remain a part of you.

If I could see the weedy mussels
Crusting the wrecked and rotting hulls,
Hear once again the hungry crying
Overhead, of the wheeling gulls.

I should be happy,—that was happy
All day long on the coast of Maine!
I have a need to hold and handle
Shells and anchors and ships again!

• ɤ · ϔ · ɤ •

ɤ · ϔ · ɤ

· ϔ ·

·ϔ·

“Oceans” Pearl Jam

i used some, but not all of Edna St. Vincents’ poem “Exiled” which you can read in its entirety HERE. there is also a bio HERE.

image ~ “Rime of the sea” TempestasRex on deviantART
ɤ

this is my submission to ~

Meeting the Bar: Postmodern (Prose) at dVerse ~ Poets Pub
prompt: write a prose-poem or incorporate passages of prose into your poem

thank you, Anna!

Open Link Monday at imaginary garden with real toads
submit a new or old poem

thank you!

Poetry Pantry #118 at Poets United
submit a new or old poem

thank you, Mary!

Prompt #126 Your Masquerade Party at We Write Poems

prompt: write a persona poem, also called mask poems { they are written from a perspective other than one’s own. Whether it’s a friend, enemy, relative, pet, inanimate object, historical figure or someone completely fictionalized, think and write as if you were the other character, bringing them to life and capturing their world. Wearing their “costume” gives you permission to step out of your comfort zone and change your style, tone and perspective. }

thank you, Julie!

i am also participating in ~

NaBloPoMoSoup