Greyhound Travels

Written for:  Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads – Weekend Mini-Challenge
(posted by Bjorn)

“A flashback is a memory that is so strong that it pulls you back in time to another moment, maybe more pleasant than present or more horrific. That means that you stay in the same tense as the rest of your poem (often present tense).
To be able to pull you back you need to add a magic time-turner, a sensation that creates such a vivid memory that you actually have traveled in time.

As you well know flashbacks are something we all experience from time to time. So also question yourself… how did it change your present state of mind? Did it help you make a difficult decision?  Did it make you happier, sadder or angry?”

I see a Greyhound bus
marked, Adirondack Trailways.
Stop and stare. The bus runs
past me, colors streaming
red and white with tiny
fir trees painted on the
outside.

Young and free, I am
on that bus with friends
headed upstate, laughing,
and teasing each other.
A group of guys are renting
a house in Woodstock for
summer. We are a bunch
of girls from Brooklyn,
watching the landscape
change. Houses spaced
far apart, little shops,
and farms. My heart races
thinking of that blonde,
tanned boy I will be with
this weekend.

http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/

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Back To The Middle Ages

Written for:  Poetics Aside 2019 PAD November Chapbook Challenge – Day 15
“Write a middle poem.  We’re in the middle of the month, so it’s a worthwhile time to write about being in the middle of things. There are physical and geographical middles, of course, but people also find themselves stuck in the middle of quarrels, lines, and poetry challenges. Some think of the middle as average; others strive to break out.”

Our morals are declining
public corruption’s on the move.
We seem to be colliding
with Middle Ages; we must improve.

Public corruption’s on the move.
There’s urban decay, and the one per cent,
like Middle Ages; we must improve.
Fall of Roman Empire, start of descent.

There’s urban decay and the one per cent.
Feels like an uprising brewing.
Fall of Roman Empire, start of descent.
Watch people begin queuing.

2019 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 15

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The Irish Pooka

Written for:  Poetic Asides 2019 PAD November Chapbook Challenge – Day 14
“Write a myth poem.  Reinterpret a common myth, create a brand new myth, and/or mention a myth in passing. Remember: There are the Edith Hamilton type of myths and the common misconception myths.”

In Ireland the Pooka is feared,
their dress and long wild mane is weird.
Described as resembling little goblins,
yet Harvey was a rabbit, tall and thin.

As shape-shifter, a rabbit might fit
but luminescent gold eyes sound lurid.
In Ireland the Pooka is feared,
their dress and long wild mane is weird.

It is believed Pookas embellish truth,
I fear they are among us now–uncouth.
I would rather believe in Harvey, though;
he’s a grand pal, witty and mellow.
In Ireland the Pooka is feared,
their dress and long wild mane is weird.

2019 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 14

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Snow Diamonds

Written for:  Poets United Midweek Motif~Winter  (posted by Sumana)
“For this week write a winter poem.”

“I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, “Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.”— Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass

On a cold sunny day, see the
snow tracks, shoveled paths,
and snowmen doing their best
to hold it together. If a lion
wind has lessened to a softer
lamb, you can go for a walk,
sunglasses on to dim a harsh
sun that can block your sight,
as it dances diamonds
across the snow.

http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/

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Old Oak of Dreams

Written for:  dVerse Poets Pub  – Prosery:  Meet Jane Kenyon  (posted by Victoria)
“Write a flash fiction story in prose of 144 words or less.  The story must include
the following phrase from Jane Kenyon’s book, Taking Down The Tree:
“If it’s darkness/we’re having, let it be extravagant”

She could jump from bedroom window to the sturdy oak
in the backyard. Sit on a limb, look at the sky
spreading out its tablecloth of night, the winking
moon–a candle, the glittering stars–polished silverware.
She imagined being up there, a guest at the table of sky.

In later years,  it became necessary
to cut down her beloved tree. She felt like a piece
of her heart was being cut out. Chill December
winds blew. There was nothing she could do. In a week’s
time, her tree would be gone. Borrowing some ornaments,
red and silver ribbons, she spent painstaking hours
decorating that tree. As the family looked out in surprise,
the girl said, “If it’s darkness/we’re having, let it be extravagant.”
And it was.

https://dversepoets.com/

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Proud Parent

Written for:  Poetics Aside 2019 PAD November Chapbook Challenge – Day 13
Write a persona poem.  Take on the persona of someone or something else.

I stand so stately–proud without a sound
except for my children who like rustling
’round a’flutter ’til they fall on ground.

They love dancing in a September breeze,
so vibrant in burnished reds, amber lights.
I watch them fondly, as all parent trees.

https://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides

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“pale distance”

Written for:  The Twiglets #152 – “pale distance”

In pale distance/outline of horse is befogged/in the early dawn.

smoke pales in distance
houses and mountains visible
wild fires abate

There was a young lady from Memphis
whose voice, she thought, had much promise
but when she auditioned
for choral position
she turned pale as she failed to go the distance.

https://thetwiglets.wordpress.com/

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What Is Your Formula?

Written for:  Poetic Asides 2019 PAD November Chapbook Challenge – Day 12
Two-for-Tuesday – Write a form and/or anti-form poem.

I need to have some structure
in my life, such as reading
poems every morning while drinking
my coffee. Too much structure–such
as going to the gym on certain days,
or going to bed at a set time
each night–produces a feeling
of being boxed in.

I need spontaneity in my life.
I do not wish to be categorized.

seagulls rest on sand
heads point in one direction
one turns away

https://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides

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What A Season Brings

Written for:  Poets United – Pantry of Poetry, Proses #3  (posted by Sanaa)

“For now, I invite you to share your entries, as Poets United welcomes both poetry and prose (i.e. stories, articles, essays) feel free to link anything new or old and relish in the work of others. Also, if you opt to share prose then please keep it to 369 words or fewer.

Optional: For those of you whose muse desires something, here is a beautiful poem by Maya Angelou. Remember to give credit if you decide to write inspired by it.”

When You Come

When you come to me, unbidden,
Beckoning me
To long-ago rooms,
Where memories lie.

Offering me, as to a child, an attic,
Gatherings of days too few.
Baubles of stolen kisses.
Trinkets of borrowed loves.
Trunks of secret words,

I CRY.
Maya Angelou

 

If you have lived long, each season opens
a wealth of memories, mementos, smiles,
and often tears. Who did you meet
in Summer, what music did you listen
to together?

The sun beat down on beach-goers swathed
in lotions or oils. Scent of coconut wafted
through the air, mingling with that
of brine. How could this paradise
ever end? Yet it did.   Summer romances
are hard to sustain once October gets
a foot in the door.

(this poem was inspired by “When You Come” by Maya Angelou)

http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/

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Primeval Discovery

Written for:  Poetic Asides 2019 PAD November Chapbook Challenge – Day 11
Write a prime poem.  Prime is one of those words I don’t often think about, even though it shows up frequently: prime numbers, prime location, prime rib, prime time, Optimus Prime, Amazon Prime, and prime meridian to name a few. So I hope you’re primed up to write a new poem focused on this prime word.

I
wonder
how it would
feel to see land
laid pristine before
you–a virgin forest.
Trees, ground, grasses–verdant, fresh.
Would miracle of this splendor
thrill you, fill you with surrealism?
Could you look, marvel, and leave it unspoiled?

2019 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 11

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