New Tricks

For the 4^th Weekly Scribblings, Rommy would like us to consider the phrase “you can’t teach an old dog new tricks”, and express any thoughts we might have on it in either poetry or prose form. Fly over to Poets and Storytellers United and join the word-yum.

Myth-Placed

I love reading and writing poetry and prose spiced up with a bit (or a lot) of mythology. If you feel the same way, then you will probably enjoy Rommy’s Weekly Scribblings #2: Myth-Placed. See you (read you?) there!

Wild Fridays: Deaths and Entrances

This is the Death card from the Voyager™ Tarot (my favourite deck to read with professionally) along with the beautiful image on the backs of these cards, which is a cross-section of our DNA. (Death, it seems, might be encoded into our DNA ... inevitable. Or is it merely change?)

This is not the traditional skeleton figure of most Tarots (wielding a scythe or riding a white horse, depending on the deck) but it does show images suggesting profound grief, finality, and even a hint of terror.

However the Death card doesn't refer to physical mortality; it uses that concept in a symbolic sense to denote the death of an old way of life or an old way of being. Furthermore, the message of the Death card is Rebirth, Transformation. Any drastic change is liable to occasion grief, even when it is self-chosen. We must respect that grief, but we're not supposed to get stuck and wallow in it; we're supposed to come out the other side, into something new. Carrying on the symbolism: we're supposed to be reborn.

And so farewell, 2019

As we come to the end of this year at Poets United, we find ourselves facing the ending of some things about the way we have been, as well as the new beginnings that must follow. We contemplate all this with some grief for what is over, the realisation that such changes are inevitable, and the prospect of an exciting new future.

Above all, of course, we mourn the departure of four of our staff members. I've been researching our early posts for the little History segment I've recently included (see links at top of page). I've been here a long time but wasn't quite in on the beginning, so even though I greatly value Mary and Sherry's contribution to this community, I hadn't realised the full extent of it. Robert Lloyd, who founded Poets United, credited them with being the backbone of it when he was creating and developing it. When he had to leave his own creation after only a couple of years, he left it in their capable hands. It's they who are responsible for Poets United being the wonderful home it has been for us all over the ensuing years. 

I came on staff shortly before Robert left. Mary and Sherry made this newbie very welcome and were unfailingly supportive ever after. I've come to realise that they have gone out of their way to encourage many members of our community who needed a bit of personal reassurance. (If you're a new poet starting out, or one who has worked mostly solitary before, jumping in here can feel daunting.)

Then Susan and a little later Sumana joined our staff, completely aligned with the values we already had, and adding their own unique flavours to the mix. 

All these women have looked after us very well! The fact that each is a wonderful poet in her own individual style points to the diversity and inclusivity of this community – as well as its nurturing effect on our skills, allowing us to grow in our craft. We owe them a huge debt of gratitude.

I look back now and think, 'How DID they manage to keep going so long?' And doing such a wonderful job while they were at it! Much as we'll miss their guidance, we can't grudge them time to focus more on their own lives and writings.

It was fortuitous that Magaly and Sanaa had recently come on board, bringing enthusiastic new energy. Then we twisted Rommy's arm (very gently ... well actually we didn't even have to) and she joined us. All the staff, including those retiring, were unanimous that she was the right choice. 

Onwards in 2020

In another sense, we're not losing anyone. Our retiring staff members are not resigning from the community as a whole. We'll look forward to seeing them around, just not in the same capacity.

We've been discussing various options as to who does what in future, and decided I'll stick to the Wild Fridays (where you never know beforehand which topic I'll come up with on any particular Friday) while Magaly will look after us on Sundays and Sanaa and Rommy will take it in turns to come up with the Wednesday prompts. It's always been the case that the Poets United team members have each other's backs; so if any of us has an emergency and can't do one of our regular days, we'll yell for help and one of the others will step in.

Elsewhere

Our sister site, 'imaginary garden with real toads', was also started by Robert Lloyd and then handed over in 2011 to Kerry O'Connor, who has run it so brilliantly ever since, with the help of several other wonderful poets. I and many others have loved their very creative prompts and the high calibre of poetry to be found there. 

Coincidentally that too is now coming to an end – not merely a change of staff but a discontinuation. Kerry has announced that the final post there will be on 30th December. 'All good things ...' as they say. I'm sure many will be feeling sad about that, me for one. I always enjoyed playing there as well as here. Many of you have done the same.

Fortunately the site will remain online as an archive. And what a wonderful resource it will be! It has already been a place I've liked to explore when stuck for inspiration. I'm very glad I'll still be able to do that for years to come.

(Following their good example, we're going to be getting our own archives into order in the near future, so they may always be revisited.)

Meanwhile ...

We here haven't quite bowed out of 2019 yet. Magaly has a final Poetry Pantry for you this coming Sunday. Then it's holiday time until January 5th, the first Sunday of the New Year, when we welcome you back again.

Don't be surprised if you see some changes then to the way we look. We've been using this version of Blogger for a long time – and it includes some aspects that aren't even part of Blogger itself, but were brought over from a Yahoo group which our founder Robb Lloyd once administered (the precursor to this community). It's been getting rather clunky behind the scenes; time to update. We have plans to make it sleeker and more pleasing to the eye, while at the same time more navigable: more user-friendly for both staff and participants.

Post-script

How ironic that at this point some of us (I for one) have been having trouble with the last Midweek Motif, unable to leave comments or access people's linked poems. I know several of you have been experiencing similar frustrations. 

I fared a little better on my tablet than my laptop. On the tablet I can at least access and read everyone's poems. I still can't leave comments at the PU blog, nor on your poems if you're using Blogger. However, I have been able to comment on Wordpress blogs – so it's evidently a Blogger issue. 

Neither Magaly nor I could find a problem with the html coding, the first place either of us thought to look, nor with Settings etc. We believe it's to do with some updating which we're aware that Blogger is carrying out at the moment, and will shortly be resolved.

Thanks for your patience, folks. Hang in there! 

Note: Deaths and Entrances is the title of a book of poems by Dylan Thomas, published in 1946, focusing on the conjunction of birth and death. (The title poem and others reference World War II, which had recently ended.)

Pantry of Poetry and Prose #4

Hello word weavers and word lovers! For those who don't know me yet, allow me to introduce myself... my name is Rommy Cortez-Driks, tea-adoring, music-appreciating, witchy-flavored, nerd extraordinaire. I am honored to be the latest addition to the staff at Poets United and will do my best to uphold the standards of all the people who have given their hearts and words to this page.

Harvest Brew by Lady Viktoria

While you are enjoying your Sunday beverage of choice, you may want to linger over this past week's offerings. Winter came early in Sumana's Midweek Motif. This last Wild Friday introduced us to the work of Christine Strelan. Get ready for an Awakening for this upcoming Midweek Motif.

So hit us with your wordy wonders--poetry, prose, fiction, nonfiction, old, new--it's all good. But keep prose pieces to 369 words or under, please. Thanks and enjoy the word magic.

Wild Fridays: Poems of the Week

No-one can replicate Sherry's wonderful Monday features! We're not even going to try to emulate her fabulous interviews and full schedule. But, as our Friday topics are already varied, we thought we'd sneak in some Poems of the Week here too – not every week but now and again. It's always been such a pleasure to read those features which showcase members of our own community. (Note: 'Poems of the Week' doesn't mean they were written this week, but that they are chosen to be shared this week.)

Two Poems by Audrey Howitt

(aka Divalounger) and a chat.

Dreams of Trees

The night coats the rim of the moon with its cloak.

The night pours its lush scent into the secret indentations of the trees,

Into the carnal world of darkened bark.

The night lives in the scent of its admirers,

Those admirers who pour into its blackness,

Who come covered in oils so rich in fragrance

that they ooze the carnality of the trees, of the night, of the moon.

Oh radiant moon, find me this night and cover me in the softness of your down,

That I may scent you in my dreams and sight you in my eyes.

My Soul's Song

I sing my soul alive each day,

With the grace of the breath of the great light

United and shining within.

Intoxicating, this song.

I am drunk with my life

As it fills and sates me.

Who will sing my soul alive

When my body lies desiccated,

Mere dust upon the crust of the earth?

I hurry not toward death’s door,

For its hinges creak in unseemly harmony,

Discordant to well-tuned ears.

Yet I feel death’s dark breath upon my back

As I hurry away.

The song of light calls.

Audrey, who describes herself as 'Poet, Singer, Voice-teacher, Recovering Attorney, Psycho-therapist, Middle-aged Mama and lover-of-life', has recently renewed her active participation with us after being otherwise occupied a while. But for these lovely pieces I went back to earlier posts at her blog, so hopefully not too many of you have already seen them. There are two because I love them both so much that I couldn't choose! In both poems I find the combination of mysticism and the obvious feeling for nature inspiring and moving.

Following Sherry's example, I asked Audrey some questions:

Rosemary: Would you care to tell us how each of these poems came about?

Audrey: Trees are a favorite subject of mine. I write a lot about them and feel a special pull toward them.  Dreams of Trees is an early piece.  I was just starting to write poetry then. It was a time of intense stress for me in my personal life. We were putting the kids through college, I was back in school and still trying to make enough money to pay the bills.  Dreams of Trees grew out of my feelings of needing to escape, to be cradled again by the trees I spend most of my time with in my yard. 

Rosemary: I'm very fond of trees myself and think they are wondrous, sentient, benevolent beings. No wonder you turned to them – and no wonder I liked this poem!

Audrey: I wrote My Soul's Song during my mid-50's--I was feeling my age and starting to focus on what I wanted my back half to look and feel like. (I am optimistic I think--maybe it was my back 1/3rd).  I have always felt a pull toward the light and connectedness that exists between us. For me, this piece was about being in the light as I move toward older age. (I hope this doesn't sound too weird Rosemary.)

Rosemary: Not to me! It is very much what I'm up to as I age, too. Also I do believe that our poetry can be one way of spreading the light to others – when we happen to manifest it in a poem, as you have done with this one.

I notice that some of the comments on your recent posts remark that you are a master of minimalist poetry or micro-poetry. And I agree! You can encapsulate an essence and, in just a few words and some excellent placement of spaces, succeed in conveying both fine nuances and depths of meaning. Yet the two pieces I've chosen, which are earlier, are longer and more detailed. Is brevity something you've arrived at gradually?  And was it a conscious choice from the outset, or something that snuck up on you?

Audrey: I have come to minimalism gradually. and not really intentionally. I have always been drawn to smaller forms, especially the Japanese forms. Japanese poetry is so clear, simple, and elegant. But I am a rule-breaker and so I was not interested in the stringency of the forms.  I started experimenting. I wrote pieces in English and then translated them into Japanese, trying to get the feel of clear, simple images in both languages. The minimalism grew out of that. But I still write in longer forms as well, I am working on a series of pieces right now in longer forms.

Rosemary: You speak and read Japanese???? I'm impressed! How did that come about?

Audrey: I speak Japanese and Russian--I lived in Japan as a young adult and then studied the language, but quit in the face of learning all the Kanji. Russian is the first language I learned. (I am the first child born here of Russian immigrants.) I learned English from watching cartoons.  

Every time my younger daughter hears me sing in German, she says that it sounds like a Russian singing in German--

I like languages!

Rosemary: Wow!

And this answer leads to more questions.

When you say, 'the first child born here of Russian immigrants', where do you mean by 'here'? 

Audrey: I am the first child born in the US.

Rosemary: How amazing is that! I thought maybe you meant in your little corner of it.

And where does the German come into it? More and more intriguing, lol.

Audrey: I sing and teach classical singing – opera and art song – so I sing a lot in Italian, French and German.

Rosemary: Ah yes, the 'Divalounger' aspect of you. How lovely it must be to have a gift for music as well as poetry!

I see that, like me, you sometimes play with Satya Robyn's and Kaspalita Thompson's initiatives such as 'small stones' and 'writing your way home' – using writing as a way of mindfulness and, in the case of the small stones, looking outside oneself for inspiration. Has this influenced your development of poetic less-is-more?

Audrey: Small stones fill my notebooks--I am not sure that they are all poems, but they are my way of dealing with life and sometimes poems grow out of them.

Rosemary: Well, small stones don't have to be poems. Most of mine are, because that's what I like to write, but sometimes doing them in prose feels right. I turn to them when I'm blocked. I find it a very useful practice, not only to keep writing alive, but for my own wellbeing too. It's so nice to come across others around the world who are still writing small stones years after being introduced to them.

Many thanks, Audrey, for being so open with us, and allowing me to share your lovely poems.

******

Hope you enjoyed this post, everybody – and, as Sherry would have said: Next time it might be you!

And now – I'm excited to announce that the wonderful Rommy Driks has joined the staff of Poets United, and in the very near future will start hosting some of the Sunday posts.

Material shared in this post is presented for study and review. Poems, photos, and other writings and images remain the property of the copyright owners, usually the authors.

BLOG OF THE WEEK ~ ROMMY DRIKS

Sherry: We last spoke with Rommy Driks, who blogs at KESTRIL’S RHYTHMS AND GROOVE, in 2017. Rommy lives in Bucks County, PA, with her husband, two teenagers and a corgi named Kitsune. A little bird told me Rommy has a new book, published just last week, and I was most interested in sharing the excitement with you.

Sherry: It has been a while since we talked to you in 2017. Would you bring us up to date? 

Rommy: One of the biggest changes is my eldest is off to college and my youngest started high school. My husband and I are a little dazed over it all, but they are both handling their respective transitions like champs.

Sherry: Those are huge changes, for all concerned. I'm glad you are all doing well. 

The wonderful Kitsune

Rommy: And yes, I finally finished up another installment of the adventures of one of my favorite characters to write about, Yuuki. His new story, along with 6 other never before seen short stories, are part of my new short story collection, The Trouble with Wanting and Other Not-Quite Faerie Tales.

Sherry: I love the title. Smiles. Tell us all about it!

Rommy: It’s on sale now as an e-book on Amazon and at Barnes & Noble. It was conceived during NaNoWriMo last year, and I thought my eyeballs would fall out of my head during the editing process.

This collection plays on my love of faerie tales and faerie tale themes. All of the main characters are outsiders in the stories they find themselves in. And they each make decisions that reframe or change their narratives, so they can carve out a way to live that is true to who they are.

Now you can’t have fairy tales without a little magic, right? That’s where being a poet helped. There’s an enchanted quality to poems; the right combination of words can sketch images vivid enough to create worlds. When I write poetry, I feel the weight there is in certain words, and how to balance them to get the feel that I want. This feeling carries over to short story writing. In return, writing fiction helps me hone my sense of pacing and developing an idea. It’s something I’ve found useful when writing poetry.

(Cover art by Michelle Kennedy)

The Trouble with Wanting and Other Not-Quite Faerie Tales is
available at the following links: Amazon  and Barnes & Noble. 

Sherry: It looks wonderful, Rommy. What a great cover! Where does your love of fairy tales come from? When did this fascination begin? 

Rommy: My love of reading definitely came from my dad. He always had his nose in a book. We both share a love for Greek myths and trickster tales. I branched out to the Brothers Grimm and Hans Christian Anderson when I went to school, and just devoured any fantasy book I could get my hands on from there. My name was on all the sign out slots for every book in C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia series at one point.

Sherry: Fairy tales sometimes show up in your poems, as well as your stories. And they always have a wonderful message for the grown-up reader. Let’s take a look at three of my favourites:

source

Not Quite A Faerie Tale

Glass slippers don’t fit

every size and shape of foot.

I won’t waltz bloody-toed

in silks that don’t suit me.

Let me run barefoot,

choosing silk or steel

depending on the way

my curls bounce at the moment.

Let me guide the magic
in well-woven words

and make the fairy tales fit me,

instead of the other way around. 

Sherry: What a wonderful message this is, for anyone, child or adult. No more bloody toes!

Rommy: I wrote this piece to describe the collection as a whole. As I mentioned earlier, the characters in my stories are all outsiders in some way. And as any outsider knows, there are going to be points where the larger world tries to impose what it feels your role should be. But we don’t have to accept that. We can decide what our role is, based on who we are, not on what is expected of us.

Glitter

I wasn't born in silk ruffles.
Sparkles didn't spring
from my first steps.

But I learned,
even when you didn't expect me to,
especially when you didn't want me to.

I ground up your leftover gems,
and pressed the remains
to create my own rebirth stone.

It glitters from the center
of the reclaimed crown
I earned- though you tried your worst
to keep it from me.

Sherry: How I adore the idea of crafting one's own "rebirth stone".

Rommy: This one was inspired by the main character, Matilda, in my story “Just Perfect”. People don’t usually think of fierce when it comes to fairy-godmothers, but that she is. There is a streak of iron underneath the ruffles and fluttery wings.

The Trouble With Wanting

You're what I dreamed of
before I learned some dreams come with a cost.

I've watched a tender heart
mutilate everything she was
on the assumption her love could cross any barrier.

Still, I reach for you,
until I remember a promise made
over the dissolving remains of a life.

What would it be like
to bring you into my world?
I've seen you looking, enchanted,
just as I was enchanted with a place that is not my own.

Would that look stay
when I tell you everything?
Would you accept all of it,
not expecting me to cut away the core of myself?

I've seen the way you smile,
and for a moment let myself dream
of nights spent hiding nothing,
loving hard enough to dissolve barriers instead of hearts.

But some dreams come with a cost
and I don't know if I can pay for this one.

Sherry: Sometimes the cost is too high. There are moments when one feels exactly like the narrator of those closing lines.

Rommy: This one was inspired by the main character, Lynna, of the titular story in my collection, “The Trouble with Wanting”. That story is based on the original The Little Mermaid story by Hans Christian Anderson, but mine is from the point of view of the little mermaid’s sister. While she has some things in common with her ill-fated younger sister, this mermaid has gone pirate, and has a far more calculating eye towards the battles she has to face.

source

Sherry: I so resonate with each of these poems. We are raised on dreams and fairy tales, then reality awakens us and grows us up. But we need to hold onto a little of that magic, that possibility, no matter what our age is. Tell us about your love of fairy tales for grownups, Rommy.

Rommy: Well, maybe it could be I like them just because I haven’t really grown up yet. But there’s a quote by G.K. Chesterton I’m reminded of: “Fairy tales do not tell children the dragons exist.  Children already know that dragons exist. Fairy tales tell children the dragons can be killed.” 

I think the dragons only get bigger when we get older. And in today’s day and age, there are flocks of the damn things roaming around out there, in power over us. Fairy tales still can inspire us to become the heroes of our own stories, and remind us that we have lots of pages to go before we can call the tale complete.

Sherry: I so agree. It is a time for heroes and heroines, for there is a lot that needs saving.

Now that your book is published, what will you be working on next?

Rommy: I am planning to get a book of poetry out there too. I already have an idea brewing for one, and several poems written that would work with the theme I’d be using. And I definitely plan on writing more short stories, and a novel or two expanding on some of the characters in the book.

Sherry: That all sounds exciting! We will await more new books with great anticipation. What activities do you enjoy when you aren’t writing, Rommy?

Rommy: Well there are my Japanese tea ceremony lessons. Earlier this year I got my official license from the main Urasenke tea school in Kyoto for the basic forms. I need to brush up on my winter forms (the format of the tea ceremony changes with the seasons) and I’ll move on to some intermediate forms after that. I also am a belly dancer. 

Although I’m mostly laid back in my every day attire, I love the glitz of getting into a full cabaret costume and performing on stage. I enjoy rambling around Bucks County when I get the chance. We have some really lovely areas here. When I’m not doing any of those things, I’ll crochet a bit.

  

Sherry: It all sounds amazing! Is there anything you’d like to say to Poets United?

Rommy: Thank you all so much for the great feedback you give and the conversations you’ve shared regarding poems and the art of poetry writing. I’ve learned so much from the thoughtful constructive criticism I’ve received over the years, and I am truly grateful for it, both as a poet and as a writer.

Sherry: Thank you, Rommy, for this wonderful update, and congratulations on your new book. May it find many, many eager readers.

It is always exciting when a writer has a new book out. Yay! Do come back to see who we talk to next. Who knows? It might be you!

POEMS OF THE WEEK by MAMA ZEN, ROMMY DRIKS AND JAE ROSE

We have a treat for you today, my friends, a poem each by Kelli Simpson, well-known as Mama Zen, who blogs at  another damn poetry blog, (which is anything but! Smiles), Rommy Driks, of  Kestril's Rhythms and Groove, and Jae Rose, who writes at her blog  of the same name. Each poem took my breath  away, and I thought the combined effect of all three together would certainly brighten your day. Enjoy!

Mother Wichita

Old Mother Wichita wets with twilight.
Blackjacks bruise purple but for the green

lichen half-rubbed away hip-high
to an old bison's itch.

A rich robe of Indian Blanket sways and drapes
the hill to hollow hovered

by a red-tailed hawk circling
in the blue becoming gold becoming thick

with cicadas, fireflies,
and mockingbird song.

Summer light dies slow,
lingers lazy and long.

Then she sighs herself into a star
for night to wish upon.


Sherry: I am sighing myself, at your beautiful closing lines. Your imagery is so vivid, Kelli. This is beautiful.

Kelli: "Mother Wichita" is about the Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge near where I grew up in southwestern Oklahoma.  The Wichitas are one of the oldest mountain ranges on Earth; the Wichita tribe believed that their first ancestors sprang from the rocky points of the range.  

Today, the refuge is home to a large herd of bison and acres and acres of untouched mixed grass prairie.  To say that it is beautiful, inspiring, and humbling, is to say the very least.

Dennis Skogsbergh Photography

Sherry: It is such a beautiful landscape. I can see how it inspires your muse. Thanks, Kelli, for this wonderful share.

In Samantha's Shoes

Dinner’s in the fridge.

Don’t forget Tabitha’s bedtime story.

Make sure Darren Jr does his homework.

I’ve laced up my take-no-prisoners,

Valkyrie-on-a-broomstick, hell-yes

you’ll-hear-me-roar boots.

You smiled at me,

while I decided between

belladonna or datura -

made me want to reach

for damania instead.

I love these boots.

But I also love the slippers

we’ve made of our love -

the warm, mmm-so-cozy,

love-rare-lazy-afternoons-with-you,

strong-enough-to-go-through-the-wash,

still-sturdy-after-so-many-years slippers.

But tonight, there are great, odiferous, pestilent

hydras to contain and a coven waiting for me to rise.

“The hydra doesn’t stand a chance,” you say

before we kiss and I fly.

Sherry: I love this! Especially, "the hydra doesn't stand a chance". 

Rommy: In Samantha's Shoes came about as a response to a prompt given over at Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads, Poetry Through the Eyes of Carol Ann Duffy. The prompt asked us to pay homage to Duffy's style by creating a love poem using a common every day image. 

I don't know what specifically called to me about creating a poem around beloved TV witch Samantha from the show Bewitched. Perhaps it was a perverse need to add an element of the fantastical anyway to the main conceit (the idea of a mature love being as comfortable as a cozy pair of slippers). Perhaps it's just that I love playing with a bit of pop culture from time to time in my poems. I've written about Molly Grue (from The Last Unicorn) and Phaedra no Delaunay (from Kushiel's Dart). Either way, I really was charmed by the way it turned out.

Sherry: And we are charmed as well. Thanks for this, Rommy.

Autumn

Autumn licks at the corner of our existence 
We are all at once ready and able 
Time ticks on 
Hatter sings and Joker dances 
The peppermint clouds and cinnamon dust waft through the window
Another day
Another day 
Crisp leaves and gentle breezes 
We gather them up like treasures 
Keep them in our pocket
Wait for another year
Another year
I am sure that the breeze will come and wash away the darkness
Autumn comes
Winter stays 
Summer lingers in the background 
We will wait and gather stones 
Open the window and let the light prevail.

Sherry: I love the hope in this poem, opening the window to let the light prevail. Beautiful, my friend.

Jae Rose: This poem came to be solely from the prompt at Midweek Motif: Autumn. I tried to make it more upbeat than my usual scribbles.

Sherry: And you succeeded, my friend.  Thank you for the share, and for lifting our hearts.

Thank you, Kelli, Rommy and Jae Rose, for the wonderful poems, which we very much enjoyed. And for your faithful participation at Poets United through the years. We so appreciate you.

Do come back, my friends, to see who we talk to next. Who knows? It might be you!

Poems of the Week - Magaly, Rommy and De

We have three gorgeous poems for you today, my friends, written by Magaly Guerrero, who writes at her blog of the same name, Rommy Driks, of Kestril's Rhythms and Groove, and De Jackson, of  Whimsygizmo's Blog. Take a moment's break from your busy day, dive into these luscious lines, and let your soul take a little flight around the ceiling, before  turning your mind back to its daily tasks. Enjoy! 

GLASS EMPTIED OF CLOUDS

My glass was half full, but
I was proud of its contents,
excited about possibilities…

“Oh, the life I can bring to fill
my empty half,” I used to say.

Then you came,
bringing your thoughts
into my days.

“Empty your glass,” you said,
“I have a fill of wonders.”

I allowed the emptying…

…and you filled my glass
with clouds
that looked like heavenly dreams
falling like cool expectations
against the flush of my cheeks.

I closed my eyes,
and waited for wonders…
that weren’t meant to be.

Now,
with eyes open
and opened again,
I see
huge nothings
filling the space that is you.
And I grin…
as I gather the pieces
of my glass emptied of clouds,

of clouds that seeped into dirt
and were boiled clean by the sun,
in promise of better rains…

Beaming
under a cloudless sky,
I am
fixing my glass,
prettying its cracks,
naming the breaks,
proud of my work,
excited about possibilities

I will build true…

Magaly Guerrero, May 2017

Sherry: I love "you filled my glass with clouds." So beautiful. And there is  so much strength in "I will build true." Yes!

Magaly:  This poem was written as an explanation - some friends (who didn't know me well enough to understand my behavior) - thought I was acting too strange, too quiet, perhaps not distraught enough...after breaking up with someone I had been with for some time. I wanted to let them know that I was, indeed, quite upset. But endings are the start of new beginnings. So, I was also excited about what would come next. There was no need to cry (for too long) over broken things, especially when we can repair the breaks, while absorbing lessons that can make us better.

Sherry: It takes life wisdom to keep the good, and look forward with hope. Beautiful, Magaly. Our friend Rommy wrote a very beautiful poem that I thought would go beautifully with yours. Let's take a peek.

NIGHTINGALE HOURS

Wildness floats around you,

wolf wicked,

but I’m no little girl

to be dandelion led.

I am a pebble-strewer,

hoping you’d find your way

to my hidden home.

Delight-whisperer, come

find me quick

amid the mysteries

of the sentinel forest.

Bring your power

midnight mage.

I’ve plenty of my own.

Bring your passion

moon brigand,

and see that I

am just as adept at stealing

kisses and nightingale hours

as you are.

Rommy Driks, May 2017

Sherry: I love "wolf wicked", and "dandelion led" so much! And the speaker's confidence: "I have plenty of my own."

Rommy: The poem came about as a response to a prompt at Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads, Kennings. A kenning is an old Norse Literary device (wikipedia definition: A kenning (Modern Icelandic pronunciation: [cʰɛnːiŋk]; derived from Old Norse) is a type of circumlocution, in the form of a compound that employs figurative language in place of a more concrete single-word noun. Kennings are strongly associated with Old Norse and later Icelandic and Anglo-Saxon poetry.)

It is a strongly passionate piece. I'm not sure I can say what inspired me to go that route with the prompt. I just enjoy writing passionate pieces from time to time. What I like about it is while that the speaker strongly desires to be in the presence of their lover, but there is a confidence in them that you don't always get in the presence of intense emotion. The speaker knows they are as desired (and have as much to offer) as much as they desire their beloved. It's a very mature side of passion.

Sherry: It is wonderful: full of passion, assurance, confidence, and, yes, the mature side of love. Let's see what De has to say about life, and being......and poetry.

STORIES SNAPPED IN HALF, AND SHONE

We are born of ash and sigh
-lence, quiet spirits caved
in rain and song,
dark skeletal tree limbs
unsure of their own thin origins;
reaching for sky.

We count our rings, the things
that tell us who we are and
how old and why
we might possibly wish
for something more,
something radiating under
all this troubled skin.

You may find us rooted, or
washed away by our own salt.

You may find our syllables
too short,
too long,
unsung,
but that’s not our fault.

De Jackson, May 2017

Sherry: First, I love your title so much! And how I love the tree limbs reaching for sky. 

De: This is one of those times when the title came first. I pictured poem glow sticks snapping to life, and lighting up the night. The moon, half of her usual golden self, but still illuminating everything.

The things we show the world: our raised limbs, our smallest stories. With an inspiring word list from over at The Sunday Whirl to fuel the fire, the poem just spilled out from there.

Sherry: And so beautifully! Thank you, De. I adore the idea of poems as glow sticks, shedding light.

Many thanks to each of you wonderful poets, for sharing your beautiful poems and thoughts with us today. So much beauty, with which to begin another poetry week.

Do come back and see who we talk to next, my friends. Who knows? It might be you!