Thursday, September 30, 2010

Day 43, and how are you feeling?

So that is my challenge today for you, describe how you are feeling. Just use three words, the first three that come to mind and then look them up here to find a good synonym!




So for me I have had a splitting headache for way too long today so let's see...

gross
tired
achy

now let's make that sound a little more poetic huh...

double-dyed
threadbare
languishing

there, doesn't that sound better! I even feel better now :)


Have an awesome night and leave me your three words on FB or here in the comments.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Day 40, a "Taboo" poem

I am making up my own poetry challenge... Describe your favorite color without actually using the word. See if I can guess it and since a few of you know mine I'm picking a random color and describing it to see if you will guess it.


sunny warm 
or chilly cold
lemon fresh 
or faintly old
weathered glass panes, fresh new sheets
new shoots of green beneath your feet
musky earth meets the water
toes dip in, you sink farther
heat and light
a cool delight
lemonade smiles,
never night.


Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Day 41, an Ode to Pumpkin Spice

This is a very serious poem about something that has become near and dear to my heart in the past couple of days.

Ode to Pumpkin Spice

Pumkin spice
you had me
at my very first sip
Pumpkin spice I love you
and I do not want to quit
drinking you, adoring you
I'll swear my joy abounds
each and every time I see
a Starbucks cup with
a P and S written down
I feel victorious, I feel hopeful
and it's all because of you
my dearest Pumkin Spice
there is simply nothing
you can not do.

oops, I did it again...

Monday, September 27, 2010

Day 41, God's Got Me Thinking



God's Got Me Thinking

That's all,
just
thinking
and
thinking
and
thinking...
my
head
hurts
but I'm
remembering
this...

















and
while I'm
thinking
I'm grateful,
just
grateful,
that's
all.

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Day 40! Drew Brees or Jesus

I'm not knocking a little love for the Saints just thinking about why we let it get to us :)


A Silly Little Grief

It hangs above our heads
a wet mop of disappointment
our heroes have lost
and though we understand
they all must
we grieve, this silly little
grief, this silly little sadness.

A hero is an extraordinary
man who does an extraordinary
thing even though they are
in all other ways
every bit as ordinary as me
and you. Somewhere
in our thinking a hero
has been muddled
into a saviour, an
extraordinary being
doing ordinary things.

And this is why we grieve
because our hopes where
sadly placed, because our
best is fallible.




Saturday, September 25, 2010

Day 38, and another bus ride

We are
Bump
Headed home
To
Bump
See our kids
Bump
Again
We
Bump
Are on the
Bump
Y
Bus
Are on thr

Friday, September 24, 2010

Day 37, Healing



Healing


There is a girl,
no, a mother,
no, a friend,
no, a wife,
no, a daughter...

a saint, we will say,
that is suffering
and I know the Lord
loves us all the same
but I am not her equal
here, not now, she is
salt and light, and that
is why we pray.

That is why
we cry to God on her
behalf, because we want
to see His kindness
wrapped up in her
healing, we want to see
His mercies revealed
in her smile.

Lord, if ever we needed
a daughter of yours here,
with us, it is this one,
this sweetest one,
this truest one,
this dearest one.

You say we can
move mountains,
you say ask and you
shall receive, just the
faith of the mustard seed...

I believe you.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Day 36, The Feast

This is rough, so rough but hey I am trying to have fun out here :)




The Feast


I do not have a picture
but let's see if you can see
the seagulls swarming
down upon the the 
froth of an aching sea


the greyish blue
collided with a deeper hue
and today's mighty ocean
is more a turqoise blue


the gulls come swarming
swooping through the mist
dinner has been served
they feast on silver fish


and feasting they climb
and drop from the sky
unaware of the warning
The giver of this bounty
is a storm, chasing bluer skies.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Day 35, can you guess where I am now? :)



The Sabbath


Whoever said Sunday was easy
did not go to church.
But give me a Wednesday.
A warm, salty sanctuary.
The very breath of God in the breeze,
an easy sheath of mercy.
This is my sabbath.


my feet :)



Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Day 34, and a tiny change

Free verse all week as I will be traveling and only have access with my iPhone... Let's see if your able to guess where I am and what I'm doing by the poems.

Take One Down

Like a clown in the car
We'll be stuffed in a bus
But there will be no beer on the wall,
no none at all.

Monday, September 20, 2010

Day 33, Tanka, not "Tonka" !

Definition of Tanka
Tanka is a Japanese poetry type of five lines, the first and third composed of five syllables and the rest of seven. Tanka is the oldest type of poetry in Japan.



Love Note

write your hearts desire
sweetly list your secret hopes
write what you know most
a bold telling of your love
without restrain, without shame


Sunday, September 19, 2010

Day #32, Refrain, Secret Keeper

Definition of Refrain Poetry Term
The word 'Refrain' derives from the Old French word refraindre meaning to repeat. Refrain Poetry Term is a phrase, line, or group of lines that is repeated throughout a poem, usually after each stanza. A famous example of a refrain are the words " Nothing More" and “Nevermore” which are repeated in “The Raven” by Edgar Allan Poe.

Not even reading over this one, come back tomorrow and I'll try to get a better one out there...

Secret Keeper

Shhh,
says the night
don't let 
a single soul hear
whisper them to me

quiet, 
says the night,
lest someone
discover your sorrows
whisper them to me

hush the worries
that consume your day
just whisper them to me

silent,
says the night
don't you see
your secret has a home
Just whisper them to me.




Saturday, September 18, 2010

Day 31, One-Colored Rainbow

There isn't a type of poetry this apples to though it certainly meets standars for quatrain stanzas I suppose... maybe... maybe not. Musicians call it "jamming" when they just fly from the hip. So let's call this a "Poetic Jam" :)
A One-Colored Rainbow
she's a one-colored rainbow
all you see is hues
of bluest blue and darkest night
a periwinkle passion
twinkling in the night

she's a one colored rainbow
sparkling, crystal bright
hard to see but when you do
your eyes are given sight

splendid little rainbow
you're preferable to gray,
I'll take the hues of your sullen blues
and never wish them away

Friday, September 17, 2010

Day #30, Quatrain, Missing

Definition of Quatrain Poetry Type
A Quatrain Poetry Type or literary term is a stanza or poem of four lines. Lines 2 and 4 must rhyme. Lines 1 and 3 may or may not rhyme. Rhyming lines should have a similar number of syllables.


It's a start, just saw the mother of a 12 year old who passed suddenly about two weeks ago at my son's school. She literally radiated, I can't tell you how gorgeous she was, just something regal about her. About 60 kids came to Christ through this experience, one of them being my 15 year old niece. We aren't talking, I'm sad and this is emotional, but honest to goodness transformation all over that campus!


Missing

There's a mother in the hallway
and you don't know her name
She's striking, you halt but don't know why
but you do know she is not the same.

She is not the same as any mother
you've ever come across
in her presence is a gravity
a gravity of loss.

You don't know it, but you sense
she's traveled roads you fear
She's more like a warrior
just clothed in a mother's gear.

She is stunning in her radiance
her smile would knock you down
but looking in her eyes you see
that grief is pushing down

And suddenly you remember
the little boy who died
was it last week or week before?
you can't recall the time

and now you see the ether
that cloaks this woman's heart
somethings dear is missing
she's become a work of art

She is a master of survival
because she knows its real.
The pain from a broken promise
can cause a heart to heal.

Every time you see her
you'll see God's artist hand
Simply stunning in her survival,
wearing the Master's peace.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Day #29, Pastoral, like the pasture not the pastor :)

Definition of Pastoral Poetry Type
A Pastoral Poetry Type is a poem that depicts rural life in a peaceful, idealized way for example of shepherds or country life.

Not meaning to put this down but want you to know, threw this together in about 15 minutes. it isn't supposed to be great. This would be about my childhood home on Lake Bistaneau.


The Pond

From her window in a cedar house high up on a hill
The pond sat quietly, subdued by the undulating ground, 
the spill of pine trees, the green of grasses,
the redness of the clay earth, the fishy smell of
the lake wafting in and away like a lullaby

From her window she could watch a summer storm.
Gray would puddle together in the distance and 
gradually deepen its hue. The wind would rattle the tall 
glass windows and she would curl up watching the magic 
of lightening. A view so vast, so broad she
could see the white sparks hit the glowing green ground,
she could see the trees try to move out of the way. 
Excitement growing, she would stay and watch the 
storm passing, the ebb and flow of reckless rage.

From her window she would know there was no such
thing as safe. She would love that wild world and fear
it but revere it too. All the while inhaling the dew
of the forgiving earth, and a merciful sun.


Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Day #28, There isn't a "frustrated with life" poetry form is there?

We'll skip the formatting and let me just try to put my thoughts into prose. And for my more thoughtful friends, don't try to read theology or lack of it into this, I'm well aware of the ironies here.

Ode to Life

Dear Life,
I'd tell you to
"bring it on"
but dang it if you 
wouldn't do just that.

And I don't like
what you bring 
"on" some days.

I'd tell you to
make me younger,
a redo please.
But you would
laugh at me
because when
I'm eighty one,
I'll think forty one
was young.

Forty pounds is all 
perspective, I suppose 
you would want to 
point that out too.

And I would tell
you to quit it, 
simplify,
spare me the 
complexities.

Make my kids obedient
and give my husband
understanding, 
matter of fact,
make him think 
just like me,
so long as he
doesn't act 
like me.
Okay?

Life, you've had
your good times
but I resent 
your wicked,
tacky sense 
of humor.

You think you are
a clever genius,
I think you are
a mad scientist.

Who lets two people
fall in love when they
can't agree on paint colors?
Who does that?

And who, WHO
made a kids cheeks
so round and 
his behind so stinky 
at the same time?

And what is up with
credit cards and
politicians, 
death, 
grief,
illness?

Good grief, you
make me tired
and here is what 
drives me bananas,
I can't hate you.


I want you more
than almost anything.

I want to wake up
to you, Life, and 
breath the air,
hug my kids,
kiss my husband,
see just one more
sunset, 
smile,
flower, 
baby.

Quit dangling
yourself in front of me.
I love you.
I love you not.
I love you.
I love you not.

So be it...
I love you.
But don't get smug.
It's unbecoming.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Day 27, Name Poem, come on and do this one!

Definition of Name Poem
A Name Poem, or Acrostic Poem, tells about the word. It uses the letters of the word for the first letter of each line.
I did the whole fam, not well, but I did it :)

JEN
Just trying to
Engage in life and
Not take it for granted


SEAN
Seems so serious
Eats chocolate chip cookies
And loves his boys
Needs his family

JACK
Joy in the furrow of his brows
Always looking to 
Cause someone else happiness
Kid with a man's heart

CHARLIE
Could you define
Happiness
As a boy who
Riles you to distraction
Leaves you laughing
Insist on his way
Endearing himself with his charm


Monday, September 13, 2010

Day #26, Lyric poetry, the Snoz

Definition of Lyric Poetry
Lyric Poetry consists of a poem, such as a sonnet or an ode, that expresses the thoughts and feelings of the poet. The term lyric is now commonly referred to as the words to a song. Lyric poetry does not tell a story which portrays characters and actions. The lyric poet addresses the reader directly, portraying his or her own feeling, state of mind, and perceptions.


I can't promise this is lyrical but all I am capable of, oh the sinus pressure!

The Snoz

Sniffle, snuffle
snuffle sniffle
my nozzles got a leak
sniffle, snuffle
snuffle, sniffle
I'm too stopped up to think.


Sunday, September 12, 2010

Day #25, Yeah, Limmerick!

Definition of Limericks
Limericks are short sometimes bawdy, humorous poems of consisting of fiveAnapaestic lines. Lines 1, 2, and 5 of a Limerick have seven to ten syllables and rhyme with one another. Lines 3 and 4 have five to seven syllables and also rhyme with each other. Edward Lear is famous for his Book of Nonsense which included the poetry form of Limericks.

?#@*&%!

I'd like to say my mouth is clean
that no ones ever heard me scream
four letter not to be repeated
when there are days I'm quite defeated
and out slip words I didn't mean!


Saturday, September 11, 2010

Day #24, Irony... Towers

Definition of Irony
Irony illustrates a situation, or a use of language, involving some kind of discrepancy. The result of an action or situation is the reverse of what is expected. A famous example of irony is ''Water, water, every where, Nor any drop to drink' in the Ancient Mariner.

Towers

We
build
to fortify
boast, create.
Look what man can do!

Look.
what.
man.
can.
do.

The name of the LORD is a strong tower;
the righteous run to it and are safe.


Friday, September 10, 2010

Day #23, Imagery, How I met my puppy.

Definition of Imagery Poems


Imagery Poems draw the reader into poetic experiences by touching on the images and
senses which the reader already knows. The use of images in this type of poetry serves to intensify the impact of the work.



So my first question to myself is, didn't I do this yesterday? But oh well, we'll try again! and besides even our puppy deserves a little poem,

How They Met

Among the smell of dust and urine was a a bleachy
fresh smell that burned your nose hairs off.
We sat on a wooden park bench sitting
on dirt streaked linoleum
and we waited for her.

Some young boy let her in
She was prettier in person
gentle, unassuming
and she ran up to the bench, jumped on top
doing her best to lick both boys clean
with her flappy tongue.

Her soft whiteness rubbed each of our cheeks
and my boys hardly had cheeks to see for their smiles.
She nuzzled and leaped and licked,
whimpering, "Get ,me out of here."
We saw his face and knew she would come home with us.


She lay in the sun in Sean's lap
and it was such a dream. We talked for an hour
trying to name her until we got home and let her out.
Then the little booger ran away, I chased her, yelled at her.
We were home, she was home, so I placed her in the yard
and she ran around leaping like a gazelle
and that is how we met Skipper.












Thursday, September 9, 2010

Day #22, Idyll Poem

Idyll Poetry Types
Idyll Poetry Types are either short poems depicting a peaceful, idealized country scene, or long poems that tell a story about ancient heroes. The word is derived from  the Greek word 'eidyllion' meaning "little picture".  Also spelled Idyl.

If I doubted it before I started, this is SO helping me with my thoughts, though I feel sorry for the poor readers who have to witness this strange experiment. THIS. IS. HARD.

Looking Into the Valley.

The pasture before me
is green, polka dotted by wild flowers
and a crisp minty wind
runs its hands over the tops
causing a sea of waves to billow in and out.

The air is so clear it gives a crystal shine to the sun
that spreads slowly like a broken yolk,  a buttery gold gloss
laying lazily on top of the trees.
On the edges of my sight I see giant green hills
and luscious dark bark curled like chocolate
around every trunk. The ground gives
like a giant mattress underneath my steps. 
Every progressing stride hums with the sounds of
moist earth, the crunch of moss and twigs crumbling. 
It sounds like shredded wheat.

The mint in the air and the must of the ground combine
and my nose tingles from the vapor. Life and death
swarm underneath my toes. "Ready? Ready. Go!,"
it cries. The cool breeze that slides between the branches
works on me like a mother's embrace and everything feels
much better, so much better here. 

And peace tumbles down my skin like 
a warm shower and I am ready for 
this evergreen of change. 
This July and December living.
I smile and whisper, "I am ready too."

"No hurry. No hurry.", it gently replies.

Dakota Tonalism Series: Opus 52 - Horus Dolce







Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Day #21, Haiku

Definition of Haiku Poetry Type
Haiku Poetry Type is a Japanese poem composed of three unrhymed lines of five, seven, and five syllables. Haiku poetry originated in the sixteenth century and reflects on some aspect of nature and creates images. 

My South
vibrant fuchsia wind
the rebel loves tradition
warmth felt from within