CIRCLES/ Poetry Potluck #20

                                                          Henri Matisse

FOR THIS WEEK'S Poetry Potluck #20, we are given the theme of Peace, Relaxation, and Spirituality.  I think spirituality chose me!


CIRCLES

Standing within
a circle of prayer,
my spirit rises
in an ecstatic haze.

Float through holy words,
feel a splash
of sacred water
sizzle on my fiery brow.

Revive me
from my slumber.
At my feet,
a grey scaly fish,
with glazed eyes,
waits to be reborn.

copyright/ all rights reserved/ 2011


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ROSES ONCE MORE/ A Pantoum

I've mentioned before that I have a real fondness for the poetic form known as the PANTOUM.  It's a form that first appeared in the 15th century in Malayan literature.  The Western version is a poem of indefinite length made up of stanzas whose four lines are repeated in a pattern, and whose last stanza is a bit twisty.  I still have to refer to notes when I try to tackle a Pantoum.  Lines 2 and 4 become lines 1 and 3 in the next stanza..this will help!!  The point is that each line gets to appear twice.


ROSES ONCE MORE

Help me live like a streak of lightning,
please solve my failure to float.
I'm shouting into my hand
as I clutch a tiny saint.

Please solve my failure to float.
Push me off the ledge,
as I clutch a tiny saint.
Let me see passion and roses once more.

Push me off the ledge.
I'm stir crazy by now,
let me see passion and roses once more.
Don't care if love's a cliche'.

I'm stir crazy by now,
seems like I'm nailed to the wall.
Don't care if love's a cliche',
make it shine like crystal again.

Seems like I'm nailed to the wall.
I'm shouting into my hand,
make it shine like crystal again.
Help me live like a streak of lightning.

copyright/all rights reserved/2011


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MAGPIE/ Prompt #50

photo/ willow/ magpie tales

DOWNHILL/ This Way

My trail is empty again.

I take it and dream my way down,

skiing new powder,

going past a few tracks

that cut the hill

on the traverse.

I whisper a caution

now and then

to shadows rushing past me.

I fall and slide against a tree.

The snow goes up my nose

like a line of cocaine.

I sit there and sneeze

little ice balls,

fearing the crack I hear

to be my bones.

But a twig suffers the break.

I rise once more,

lean into the wind,

pretend my increasing speed

is what I wish,

and not the pull of gravity.

I appeal to good fortune;

please, don't send me to oblivion.

                                                  

@copyright/all rights reserved/2011

Thanks to Tess Kincaid for giving me the opportunity to resurrect a poem I had published in 2008.  It's just a bit revised, something I should do more often...and hope for the best!

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THE INNER LIFE of STATUES/ Poetry Potluck #19



This week's Poetry Potluck #19, presents the theme of Rules, Regulations, and Laws..make of it what you wish! Let's have some order here!!

THE INNER LIFE OF STATUES

A winged female, yellow, ish,

with fragments of cinnabar red

inlaid across her belly,

once a prized belt of virginity,

now a memory of sacrifice

chiseled into her ancient mind,

almost touches the half

human creature beside her,

a satyr in his early days,

 

not quite as tall

as the guard in the doorway.

Both spit out words

that float like dust mites,

mistaking the guard for a God.

Their hope is to impose

some dignity in the marble hall,

where shifting groups prance through,

clicking along like castanets.

Kind God, sir,

we petition you to hang

a fresco above our heads

to clearly spell out

and impose the rule

of hushed reverence,

in our hallowed wing

of the museum.

@copyright/ all rights reserved/ 2011

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Me and Orson Welles....

Movie review:

IMAGINE BEING ORSON WELLES. Imagine that you are a genius and a rogue.  And somewhere down the line, way after you've died and gone to the big screen in the sky,  an audacious director decides to make a movie about your early days. 

You shrug and scoff in a knowing way.  No one could be you!  Well then, you'd be wrong.  Some young actor sidles up to the role, and smooths it to fit his skin in an uncanny way.  Black magic, I'd say. 

The director, Richard Linklater, in 2008, found a young stage actor from Britain, by the name of Christian McKay, to play the very young Orson, in "Me and Orson Welles ".  It is about the exceptional moment in time when Welles was starring in, directing, and producing the first Julius Caesar to play Broadway, in 1937. 

That was the time of the beginning of the Mercury Theater.  A young high school student, a confident and ambitious dreamer, played by Zac Efron, (yes! yes!) literally stumbles into the path of Orson Welles.  This high energy and entertaining film, also starring Claire Daines,( cool as a cucumber), as a sort of stage manager, runs amok with ambition.  But none more so than the great Welles.  By the way, the nostalgic sepia tone of the film tends to make Daines and the others look ravishing. 

The heart of the movie is the balancing act of Welles trysts and betrayals, and the historic opening night of Shakespeare's Julius Caesar, on Broadway.  The sets, the clothes, the music, seem quite authentic. McKay is fascinating as Welles, encompassing all his countless charms.  We also get to see him enact the role of Brutus.  Was the real Welles better?

I highly recommend this film about an intimidating genius, who just happened to be a very assured rascal with the ladies.  What a surprise!  Charming all the way. 

Saw it on the easy to access Netflix, or get it on a DVD. 


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MAGPIE/ Prompt #49

                                                              photo/ willow/ magpie tales 


CALENDAR GIRLS

The Gazette Girls
were invited to play
in a field of snow.
Pose for a calendar
sure to be a sell-out
at the start of the year.

Please turn this way and that,
let us see at least an ankle
of a fully clad foot.

Smile at the Kodak,
flirt a bit with teasing eyes,
as if your beau was there.

Place a hand on curvy hips,
it's alright to mildly
tempt
and tantalize,
but don't reveal
anything too daring,
if you please,

and never forget
when the time comes, 
to say cheese.


@copyright/all rights reserved/2011


A sentimental photo to lead the way to a Magpie..thanks Tess, for the challenge!!

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PATTERNS/ Poetry Potluck #18

THIS WEEK'S POETRY POTLUCK #18 , "Languages, Signs, and Symbols"...... came up as a welcome challenge!  Please visit the site and join in!!


PATTERNS

What happens to symbols,
whether an embroidered lotus
on a prayer cloth,
or an inscribed silver vessel
for holy water?

Even a wall of stone
emblazoned with Assyrian Kings.

eyes staring,
chins raised in ferocity,
cheeks puffed with power,

awaiting tribute
to be tossed at their feet
by the vanquished,

all start to unravel.

It's as if a hired hand
was deliberately mutilating,
breaking, tearing threads,
wiping out splendor.

But it's no more
than the clear pattern of time.


@copyright/all rights reserved/ 2011


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MY DAY...

THIS IS AN ERASURE POEM.  I got the idea from Poets and Writers Magazine.  Take a page or two out of a magazine or newspaper, underline words or phrases that appeal to you.  They say to erase, white-out the rest, but for me underlining did just fine.  Construct a poem with the chosen words.  This leads me to believe that writing is a lot easier today than it was yesterday.


MY DAY

Cold water pouring down my throat,
drink, with the sun coming up,
before despair tries to become the daily habit,
cross my legs, brush aside the dream,
still almost clear.

Look at the clock,
an easy ritual for morning,
catch myself in a laugh,
was there something funny in the dream?

Mother, you served me some bread,
didn't know that was
a beacon,
I'll take the crumbs and butter
into my day,

till I lie down,
sometimes sleep again,
before the clock wakes me
to observe.


@copyright/all rights reserved/ 2011


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MAGPIE/ Prompt #48

                                                      photo/ willow/ Magpie tales


A BIT of K 165

The Mezzo's voice
fills the recitative
and beckons us to plunge
into Mozart's
Little Concerto.

Exultate!
Jubilate!

A motet,
now sung by sopranos,
was composed
for the illustrious
Rauzini,

The extravagant
Castrato.


@copyright/all rights reserved/ 2011


  Just love K 165... have written about it before!  Thanks Tess, for more opportunities...

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Q&A/ Poetry Potluck #17

COME ALONG...Join in, this is Poetry Potluck #17, today, a Journey...within, without...


Q&A

Looks to be so new.
Was yesterday's dawn like this?
Where did I put it?


@copyright/all rights reserved/2011

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Chocolate (again)...

THIS IS part of my New Year's resolution.  Eat more chocolate.  But make it even healthier than they say it is.  (As good as falling in love, able to lift depression!)  Dip some luscious fruit, all those vitamins, into this melty fondue, and maybe even a bit of cake too.  I rate cake as having spiritual attributes.  What else would you put a candle into on your birthday? 

Are you trying to take off a few pounds?...hmmm....sorry about this!


CHOCOLATE FONDUE

3/4 cup heavy cream
1 lb. dark or milk chocolate (the best), broken into pieces.
Food for dipping: strawberries, bananas, blackberries, raspberries, pear slices, apple slices...you know...FRUIT!!
Some lovely angel food cake, cut into 1" pieces.
Also dried fruit is suitable.  Figs, or pineapple slices, or apricots.

Warm the cream and chocolate in a small saucepan, over low heat.  Stir until chocolate melts.  Then transfer the fondue to a serving dish.  Serve immediately with forks and food for dipping.  Serves about 8, who have good dipping manners.  Have napkins handy. 

See how easy it is to keep a resolution!

Thanks to myrecipes.com for the inspiration, and the recipe.


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MAGPIE/ Prompt #47

                                            Photo/ Willow/ Magpie Tales


CLOSE

These lovers
may look aberrant to you.
Well.
Tend to your own ardor,
look at your attachments,
then speak.

The moon takes the sun
into itself in order to shine,
a cool orb absorbs the light,
eats the sun to keep going.

No matter how I pull my body away
I still fuse to you.
Hand elbows knees entwine,

and we pass into some jazz
with a hard beat,
a twist that some call art.


@copyright/all rights reserved/2011



What a way to start the poetic New Year..thank you Willow, for presenting this enigmatic image!!

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Where?...

                                            Domenico Fetti  1589-1623


WHERE?

Where am I in your mind,
a scab that hasn't dried up yet?
Are you still brushing that flake away
or is it only my fancy,
my ego, that you even remember?

Am I a faded scar
whose depth you can't see anymore,
a washed-out clue to nowhere,
a name on the tip of your tongue,
similar to someone you knew,
but not a memory you would bank?

Where are you in my mind?
You are the promise
before the wound,
the hand that clasped
before letting go,
the step you took
ahead of the fall,
a selective remembrance
only I seem to have.


@copyright/all rights reserved/ 2011


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http://twitter.com/lynxny