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.

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.

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...

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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 :)

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.

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

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.

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

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 artisty

Simply stunning in her survival,

wearing her Master's peace.

click here to see news video of event

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.

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.

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

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.

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!

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.

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.

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