dVerse Haibun — Perfect Moments

Frank is our host at dVerse for haibuns this week. We are asked to focus on the present moment for our haibun. Life is made up of moments, precious, terrifying, beautiful moments. Once in awhile, it all comes together and for just that moment, life is perfect.

Perfect Moments

Standing on the overlook, gazing at the fairytale landscape below. Orange and yellow stones painted with the colors of the setting sun, and the azure sky. You wrap an arm around my waist, and the moment is perfect.

I watch as the shadow of a butterfly dances across the floor, refracted through the sun and glass. Blending with hospital floors and furniture, forming abstract shapes. A cloud passes over the sun. I lose the shadow dance. The doctor walks in. You are alive. My heart overflows with gratitude, and the moment is perfect.

Spring warms the flowers
the wind filled with promise and
blessings not yet known

Til next time ~Find your perfect moment ~JP

Dreams of Late — a quadrille

De (aka WhimsyGizmo) is hosting Quadrilles at dVerse Poets Pub and has asked for a poem about “bother” what bothers us, what do we find bothersome? What gets us hot and bothered? Hmmm … as I poke my muse repeatedly until she finally gets tired of being bothered and manages to convey some sort of inspiration.

Dreams of Late — a quadrille

At night of late
dark dreams have come
frightening and bothersome
dark shapes I cannot see
swoop, harass and bother me
moonless skies
throughout the night
colors fading from my sight
searching for the moon’s bright light
I wake to find it’s all illusion

word count 44

Til next time ~Stay Wild Moonchild ~JP

Poetics – A Spatial Convergence

Laura is our host for dVerse poetics this week asking us for a poem based on paintings, or the titles of paintings. Do visit the pub for all the fascinating details.

I must say this was fun and challenging. I chose “Convergence” by Jackson Pollock and started with a painterly poem based on the title, an attempt to paint for you the vision I see when I think about “convergence.” Then, when I looked up the actual artwork, the words came out much different even though (for me) the feeling was the same. I should have expected the unexpected from Pollock’s work. I must say, I see much stargazing in my future because of this prompt so thank you ever so much Laura.

Convergence Part 1 — a painterly poem

convergence of planets
align on a starry night
leaning back on my elbows
watching the indigo sky
devolve into the stars of Orion
the new moon rises in Gemini
your lips graze my throat
draws a shuddering breath
you point out Betelgeuse,
a red star burning bright,
and Rigel steadfast and true
your arm wraps around me
as I shiver, stealing
warmth from your body
against the night air
expectantly, I breathe you in
and exhale into your kiss
let the convergence begin

Convergence Part 2 an ekphrastic poem

Lines converge
in distant galaxies
harsh black and white
splashes of red and gold
Orion Nebula filled
with gaseous debris,
vapors and mist
kiss of the heavens
strength of the eons
womb of the stars

Til next time ~Stay Wild Moonchild ~JP

dVerse Poetics – The Humanity of Trees

Kim is our host for Poetics at dVerse Poets Pub, “the challenge is to write a metaphor poem that starts with the words ‘This being human is…’ You can compare being human to anything you want: a building or place, an object, something natural or something manufactured, a ritual or an everyday act. It is up to you to explore whatever it is in your poem.”

Humanity of Trees

This being human is a tree
rooted deep within the earth
yet reaching toward the sky
drinking in the sunshine and
pondering the eternal mystery
of the moon and stars
and our own humanity
one tree with many branches
each with thousands of leaves
that sway and dance with the wind
offering shade and shelter
to all who seek respite,
a quantum of solace and renewal
always growing, always changing
the wisdom of the seasons
leaves that fade and fall
in a flurry of color
breathtaking reminders
of the beauty of letting go
this being human is… beautiful

Til next time ~Stay wild moon child ~JP

dVerse Quadrille – Swiftly Set

For dVerse Poets Pub where Sarahsouthwest is hosting quadrilles. Our inspiration for this edition is “swift”

Poetry and Madness

My thoughts flit and dive
like starlings and swifts
always aflight, with glimpses
of exquisite confusion
My mind buzzing
like cicadas in summer
with memories of magic
afire with scraps of poetry
and madness
a fevered rhythm of need
as the sun swiftly sets

word count 44

Til next time ~stay trippy hippies ~JP

Tuesday Poetics A question of Color

For Tuesday’s Poetics where Mish is hosting, asks us. “Writing from a perspective other than our own is a great challenge. We’ve had some very interesting prompts over the years where we have climbed out of our comfort zones to look through a new lens. That has usually involved looking through the eyes of another person. I’d like to float a little further into the unknown and suggest we take the perspective of a color. (or “colour’ as we spell it in Canada)”

Amber Hues

Cattle in stark relief exposed
black silhouettes juxtaposed
against my gentle winter hue
would you notice if I were blue
perhaps shade of summer green
but all unnoticed I remain unseen

Wait for the waxing pink moon
as amber buds begin to bloom
I am not some lifeless tone
but fragile glass and precious stone,
like the shine in lovers’ eyes
I am fading sunset’s golden prize

Til next time ~stay wild moon child ~JP

First Line Lyric Thursday – New Day’s Dawning

The idea here is I’m taking one line from a song and making it the first line of a poem. I have oodles of “prompts” in my jar, time to use them. This week’s song is “Beautiful Day” by Joshua Radin and the line I’ve chosen is the first line of the song, “Gonna wash the dust off my soul.” Here we go.

Gonna wash the dust off my soul
rise up once again from night’s dark hole
with brilliant colors, the portrait’s drawn
twenty-four hours too quickly gone
this day is mine to live as I will
mine to use for good or for ill
so many days are wrecklessly lost
when hate and anger ignore the cost
with love and light my spirit grows
as I wash the dust off my soul

Linked to dVerse OLN

Gonna wash the dust off my soul
Gonna listen to some rock ‘n’ roll
No cares, come what may
I’m making a beautiful day

Gonna drive my car to the sea
Swim out far cause I believe
That waves will wash the grey away
I’m making a beautiful day
Let me hear you say

Ooh, oh oh, my my
I’m learning to fly
Hey, hey, what’s that you said
Let’s not forget we’re alive

Gonna climb that hill behind my house
See what this place is all about
Cause from above it all, you can’t help but say
It’s gonna be a beautiful day
It’s gonna be a beautiful day
But let me hear you say

Ooh, oh oh, my my
I’m learning to fly
Hey, hey, what’s that you said
Let’s not forget we’re alive

Gonna turn my enemies into friends
What’s broken gets stronger when it mends
When we all come together, this song will play
We’ll sing, it’s a beautiful day
That’s gonna be my beautiful day

Oh oh, my my
I’m learning to fly
Hey, hey, what’s that you said
Let’s not forget we’re alive, that we’re alive

Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Joshua Ryan Radin / Kenneth A Pattengale
Beautiful Day lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Songtrust Ave

Til next time ~stay wild moon child ~JP

Storm Broken

Peter from Australia in Meeting the Bar: Critique and Craft urges us “come on poets, join me at the beginning. Let’s find that best first line:

see if you can hook yourself a new reader with upfront vivid images and unusual word use

Storm Broken

The storm left me broken
as it swept through my life
like August thunder leaving only
the discordant buzz of cicadas
the whine of a distant trimmer
the static discharge of lightning
that singes my lungs and eyes
tears fall as I await the rain
but none comes
to quench the shattered spirit
only the distant roll of thunder
as the storm moves on
leaving me dry and broken

Linked to JusJoJan # 28 Storm

Til next time ~stay trippy hippies ~JP

The Deer and I

The Deer and I

Here where the artesian spring gurgles up through the ground, I pause. My intuition stirs, something. I glance behind and see him there, browsing amongst the fading autumn grass. I sense no fear from him, no tensing of muscle and sinew. Why should he flee? My soft pink form is no threat to him. I wonder if he knows, something inside, outside the bounds of human knowing. I would not harm him, nor his home.

Others are treacherous and wasteful, caring not for the needs of growing things. Contemptuous of all they deem lesser, and all is less. But for now, we are content to share this bit of world, the deer and I. I smile and he turns away from the warmth of sun on waning grass; away from me.

We drink from the stream,
with a warm delight – the same
the deer and I

For Haibun Monday at dVerse
and Just Jot It January – gurgle