Poetry Potluck Wednesday

Autumn

My ears listen keenly,
To hear the Autumn wind.
To feel air crisp with Winter chill,
Goose pimple up my skin.
To stand among the brilliance
Of trees in fiery dress.
The last, great, golden dance of leaves,
Drift to eternal rest.


Word of the Day: loam. (noun) a rich soil composed of clay, sand and some organic matter.

Is it Pride?

New England Tombstone 1700's


Is It Pride?

Is it pride?
That makes us think
We will be remembered
When we die?
Five minutes after we're gone,
Already, the veil
Grays the memory.
Images skewed,
Details, faces
Fade to black.



Word of the Day: spindrift (noun) 1. sea spray; esp: spray blown from waves during a gale 2. fine wind-borne snow or sand.

Stillness

Slip in and out
Time is an illusion
Illusion is a mirage
Love each moment
Live each one
Never take for granted
Each one
Slips
Slips....

Brightest
Energy
Streams from
Trees
Illuminating
Lowering
Limbs


Word of the Day: moribund. (adj) 1. in a dying state; near death 2. on the verge of extinction or termination.

More Magnetic Poetry

I thought I'd share some more
of my magnetic poetry:


Poem # 5

Peace, like death
Is silent. Still,
Blood recalls
The pounding heart.
Bare winter skin
Dreams of summer.


Poem # 7

My silently pounding heart
Drunk with summer smells,
Recalls our symphony of flesh.
Whispered love now lies still.
It is winter here.


Word of the Day: limpid. (adj) perfectly clear, transparent; not cloudy or turbid.

Today the Demons

Magnolia Cemetery in Charleston, South Carolina

Today the Demons

Today the demons
Whisper in my ear,
Prick at my skin,
Pull at my synapses.
They say, I am evil,
I am never satisfied
With what I have,
That I am cruel and foolish.
They hold up reality
To my face, like a mirror,
Smashing my bright fantasies
Of hope and joy,
Like shards of glass at my feet.
They shun the Goddess,
Beating her down,
Humbling her before the darkness,
Laughing madly,
Weakening my hold on happiness.
I surrender-
Offering up my wrists,
Breathing in the darkness,
Like liquid silver.


Word of the Day: languid.(adj) 1.without vigor or vitality, drooping. 2.without interest or spirit, listless, indifferent.

There is Gentle Mercy

Cemetery near Charleston, South Carolina


There is Gentle Mercy

There is gentle mercy
Glimpsed,
At the raw edge of pain.
That to know love,
Is to know loss.
A quiet breeze
Brushed,
Across a sun-warmed cheek.

Word of the Day: diurnal.(adj) recurring everyday. Of,relating to, or occurring in the daytime.

Arizona Summer

Cemetery in Mayer, AZ

In honor of the long, hot summer that lies ahead of me, here in Arizona, I thought I'd share a poem I wrote last year during the monotonous days of sweltering, unending heat.
When most of the USA gets ready to celebrate the Fourth of July with picnics and barbecues, I usually hibernate to the dark cool places and ride out the summer thinking about the mountains and forests, rain and scary movies.

It's Not Even Eight AM

It's not even eight am,
Opening the door to my backyard
I am assaulted by a wave of hot air,
Like a blast furnace.
Capable of turning solid metal
Into molten liquid,
Incinerating human flesh.
Yet the hummingbird still
Visits the feeder,
The cactus are thriving,
The mesquite tree remains
A soft yellow green.
Nothing has gone up in flames
But my illusions-
That I will ever adapt to my environment.
All this and it's not even eight am.

Word of the Day: wanderlust. (noun) a strong longing for or impulse towards wandering.