MTB: Make Music of Those Words

It’s Thursday at the dVerse Poets Pub and this Thurday, it is Meeting the Bar, which means we all write to a specific word, theme, form – given out by the dVerse Prompter. Today it is Victoria; a true lady, amazing poet, lover of her husband and their dogs, good friend, and most excellent prompter of forms or themese. Today she is asking us to write musically – to use musical terms, or a theme, or a concept – to turn our poetry, lives, experiences into music. Come join us!

New Music
today starts with the music of a
low tuned cello – slow, hesitant, dolorous.
No more lively forays into the forest
to play my violin,
to let my music dance through the trees
giving the birds something different to
listen to or sing along to –
now my days are filled with lonely hours.
No one calls,
no one visits,
no one emails.
My husband is at work.
I bake cinnamon rolls.
Now it is only my mother and myself
going through the same routine.
Routine is good for her and
doesn’t disrupt her memories.
Every day is a slow waltz –
it does get lonely.
but there is sweetness in the days as well.
a swirl of dolce de leche
in the bitter coffee of the day.
I watch my mother – calando.
The sun fades.

dVerse Poetics: Recipe Poems

Today, Mish is our prompt giver for the Poetics section of our Pub. She is asking us, in spirit of the Season, to give us recipe poems – but not just recipe for food, recipes for solitude, disaster, happiness, peace, war, well being, love, etc. The recipe is my Grandmother’s recipe for old fashioned tea cakes and in the pic, is also her original enameled wooden rolling pin she used when baking over 90 years ago. My mother came to live with my husband and I about two months ago. She has Alzheimer’s and is in frail health, but she remembers these cookies!

Recipe for Memories

She looks puzzled.
Why didn’t anyone tell me I had a child?
Why didn’t mama tell me I had a child?
I sigh deeply and explain,
that when she lived in Tennessee I called
her twice daily –
That she and papa raised me.
That she never mistreated me or left me,
that I always had the best she and papa could afford.
She will nod and sometimes request to be taken to bed.
When she awakens and joins me again in the kitchen,
I mix together softened butter, eggs, vanilla, flour.
I shape and cut and put into the oven.
She sniffs the air.
I remember Mama baking these when I was a child.
I remember her rollingpin with the green handles.
Why didn’t Mama tell me I had a child?

copyright kanzensakura

copyright kanzensakura

dVerse Poets Pub – Open Link #185

Grace is hosting our Open Link Night, #185!!!!   Here is my submission for that.  Enjoy.  and please visit us at dVerse Poets Pub to read and/or submit your own poem.  https://dversepoets.com/2016/12/01/openlinknight-185/

between the cold of
late autumn and the warmth of
early winter = leaves
cling to the branches – a crow
caws and no bird answers

Haibun Monday: Free For All – Gold Day

Today, I am hosting dVerse Poets Pub, Haibun Monday: Free for All. this means the person can write a haibun on any subject they choose as long as it is nonfiction and actually happened to them and is one to two paragraphs with a nature based classic haiku at the end.  The title, Gold Day, refers to how the Japanese name their week days – Gold Day is Friday.  This day is equated with the direction west, autumn, dusk, the metal gold, and the planet Venus.  Come join us for an interesting Japanese Poetic Form.

金曜日 Gold Day

The afternoon he left was a golden roux of fading autumn sunlight, spicy oak leaves – bright yellow, still holding on to the tree, not yet ready to fall, and bitter salt tears – like the oak leaves – refusing to fall, refusing to join the earlier faded maple leaves on the lawn. Under the trees, quiet and still, I allow the knowledge of his leaving to permeate my being. I am still breathing. My heart is still beating. The sky is still ethereal blue with purest white autumn clouds wafting their way to the end of the horizon. Starlings lift from the telephone wires to follow the clouds. I realize, I will continue on my way – leaves will change color and fall, snow will cover the sepia winter landscape, cherry blossoms will bud, bloom, and fade, trees will leaf in explosions of green, leaves will change color and fall. Seasons and things will pass. Inside, my soul says “Oh!”  I sit as the gold day ends.

early leaf burning –  
its incense drifts to heaven
autumn’s voice whispers.

Haibun Monday: Free for All

Today I am repeating an early submission for one of our first Haibun Mondays. I wrote this about 25 years ago. Come join us today: https://dversepoets.com/2016/11/28/haibun-monday-free-for-all/ I am doing the prompt which is Free For All. This means a person can write about a one to two paragraph Haibun on any subject they choose as long as it is non-fiction and happened to them. Gold day is Friday – kinyobi in Japanese.

Gold Day
The afternoon he left was a golden roux of fading autumn sunlight, spicy oak leaves – bright yellow, still holding on to the tree, not yet ready to fall, and bitter salt tears – like the oak leaves – refusing to fall, refusing to join the earlier faded maple leaves on the lawn. Under the trees, quiet and still, I allow the knowledge of his leaving to permeate my being. I am still breathing. My heart is still beating. The sky is still ethereal blue with purest white autumn clouds wafting their way to the end of the horizon. Starlings lift from the telephone wires to follow the clouds. I realize, I will continue on my way – leaves will change color and fall, snow will cover the sepia winter landscape, cherry blossoms will bud, bloom, and fade, trees will leaf in explosions of green, leaves will change color and fall. Seasons and things will pass. Inside, my soul says “Oh!”  I sit as the gold day ends.
early leaf burning –
its incense drifts to heaven
autumn’s voice whispers

Quadrille – The Sleeping Moon

Today is Quadrille Monday here at dVerse Poets Pub.  Mish is giving us the prompt word for today which is breath or breathe and any variants – breathtaking, breathless, breathing…A quadrille is a poem of exactly 44 words, not counting the title and must include the prompter’s choice of a word.  Come join us for some breathtaking poems that will leave you breathless.  and it doesn’t take long to read ’em. http://dversepoets.com/2016/11/21/quadrille-21-take-a-breath/

the sleeping moon
the moon breathes a sigh of relief –
it is time to go dark,
to disappear behind the clouds
to listen to the stars singing
To watch the blades of grass riffling
to hide the shells on the shore
to close her eyes and dreamless sleep

public domain photo

public domain photo

Open Link Night #183

Tonight is Open Link Night at dVerse Poets Pub – you can submit any one poem you like! Come by for some spectacular reads. http://dversepoets.com/2016/11/17/openlinknight-183/

the super moon brought
fall to our part of the South –
bright days frosty nights

bright days frosty nights
full moon lights the nights with white
light and gray shadows

light and gray shadows –
the moon shines bright as day – gray
instead of silver

instead of silver –
pewter light turns the world
to black and white –
daguerreotype

public domain NASA photo

public domain NASA photo

Previous Older Entries

%d bloggers like this: