Poetry prompts created by the poets. If you want to be part of our group, just post a poem based on the prompt and comment on other people's poems.
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Sunday, November 6, 2016
From Linda Bole. Linda sent me two prompts this week and told me to choose one. I decided that instead, I'd post them both and let the poets choose. I like having options.
I meander through the forest green wander off the beaten path hear the music of time slow down feel the forgiving peace of trees
Wander off the beaten path see deer and turkey, mushrooms and flowers feel the forgiving peace of trees as I go deep and deeper into the forest
see deer and turkey, mushrooms and flowers forgetting the hustle-bustle of the city as I go deep and deeper into the forest leave small markers as I go
forgetting the hustle-bustle of the city while the dance of ogres prance their politics leave small markers as I go not caring if they're there on my return
while the dance of ogres prance their politics I dance my own gyration of wild abandon not caring if they're there on my return absolute colors of the sky peek through
I dance my own gyration of wild abandon hear the music of time slow down absolute colors of the sky peek through I meander through the forest green
I couldn't decide so, I used both prompts in my pantoum. I didn't mean to use a pantoum either but it just fell that way. I love both the pantoum and the villanelle.
A pantoum works perfectly for this poem, the repetition of the things in the forest, the way time slows down. (BTW, did you mean "slow down" or "slows down"?)
I enjoyed your poem very much. I like how you changed the "walk" "trot" "run" "stumble" It fits perfectly with what you are trying to do. "...life is infinite" is a good line also. It is very short to us and yet it is infinite in the realm of things past and future.
Paul and I had a little jam session once and rabbits and birds came and sat around us and listened. It was so entrancing that we kept playing the same tune over and over so they wouldn't run off. I enjoyed reading your forest poem. I like "the deer don't get it" they live in a world of their own. But other animals actually do enjoy music. I liked "groundhogs dig it" also that was a great play on words.
I am not a clock watcher so time just moves with the sun and moon for me. The only time I watch the clock is when I have an appointment. Then, you are right the concept is either slow or fast depending on the importance of the appointment. Fun senryu.
I agree with Linda. Although I am a clock watcher, not everyone is. It might work better with "clock maker everyone" since we make our own fast or slow concept of time.
I know that feeling of being lost in the woods. It's always handy to carry a compass. I loved the things you came to see and how you longed for the things you left behind by choice. I really enjoyed this poem.
Okay, I give up trying to format this f***ing cleave poem for Blogger. There does not seem to be any way to make it work. So please try to read it as is, but you have to read it this way.
1. Read everything before the "-" as one stanza. 2. Read the parts of the lines after the "-" as the second stanza. 3. Read the whole line for the 3rd stanza.
MORTALITY REALITY
mortality’s reality - a funeral procession shades my day - flags on antennae lifetimes move - flutter in passing at videogame speed - in a blink of my eye not the speed of - slow cars that move like long games of Monopoly - memories from my childhood summers - at winter’s end worlds change in milliseconds - mourning a death I skip towards my end - time moves too quickly I try to live as I wait - for people to die
This has very raw emotion and shows both the speeds of slow time and quick time. I read it exactly as you said to and it worked out beautifully. A lot of splendid imagery of childhood summers and life changing. Great style of poetry.
Time is strange elastic stuff. It refuses to stretch, then in the dentist's waiting room makes puddles on the floor. Time spells itself out in wrinkles, dried leaves, flaking paint, full blown blossoms and ripe fruit.
During moments of sheer love, time ceases to be.
Time stitches itself into a quilt that warms me when I wander in the bleak of pain or the chill of regret. It takes my years and wraps them into a memory album flipping the pages over and over.
Can I trust time to bring me itself when I need it most?
Only if I pierce each passing speck with my glance, remaining true to my focus, present in each moment. Time is to be cherished regardless how many lifetimes pass, each unique, each a twig on the tree of life.
Time will hold my memory even if I forget.
Pictures in Time's album bring smiles, tears, or bits of life long since flaked away from timeworn surfaces. Each moment of my life is a precious link to all moments is a river in which I swim or float as the case may be.
Beautiful imagery. I especially love the first stanza. I think it could stand alone as a poem. The only line I had a problem with was "Can I trust time to bring me itself when I need it most?" I not only tripped on it "verbally," I had to read it like three times before I could figure it out. In other words it stopped me cold in a poem that otherwise flowed nicely.
I meander through the forest green
ReplyDeletewander off the beaten path
hear the music of time slow down
feel the forgiving peace of trees
Wander off the beaten path
see deer and turkey, mushrooms and flowers
feel the forgiving peace of trees
as I go deep and deeper into the forest
see deer and turkey, mushrooms and flowers
forgetting the hustle-bustle of the city
as I go deep and deeper into the forest
leave small markers as I go
forgetting the hustle-bustle of the city
while the dance of ogres prance their politics
leave small markers as I go
not caring if they're there on my return
while the dance of ogres prance their politics
I dance my own gyration of wild abandon
not caring if they're there on my return
absolute colors of the sky peek through
I dance my own gyration of wild abandon
hear the music of time slow down
absolute colors of the sky peek through
I meander through the forest green
I couldn't decide so, I used both prompts in my pantoum. I didn't mean to use a pantoum either but it just fell that way. I love both the pantoum and the villanelle.
DeleteA pantoum works perfectly for this poem, the repetition of the things in the forest, the way time slows down. (BTW, did you mean "slow down" or "slows down"?)
Deleteactually I think I meant to write "as time slows down" I got lost in the woods there for a minute. lol
DeleteI really like this "pantoum" style of poetry but, I just don't get it. I like your dance of wild abandon though...:)
DeleteWoods of Time
ReplyDeleteI walk in the woods.
in another time,
feel the energy,
it's so sublime
I trot through the forest.
My senses flow.
So much to feel,
so much to know
I run through the woodland,
into my time-mind,
what am I to realize?
what am I to find?
I stumble through the trees,
in time I feel small,
because life is infinite,
it encompasses all.
I slow my time,
so it doesn't run away,
'cause time moves on,
like a bright sunny day.
I enjoyed your poem very much. I like how you changed the "walk" "trot" "run" "stumble" It fits perfectly with what you are trying to do. "...life is infinite" is a good line also. It is very short to us and yet it is infinite in the realm of things past and future.
DeleteI like the progression of the different actions with each stanza also. Nice effect with that.
DeleteThank you very much Victoria. I am trying and giving it a little more effort.
DeleteThis is so very clever! Enjoyed the progression of the action very much, nice work.
DeleteI have a walk in the woods poem, so posting it:
ReplyDeleteDANCE
A girl carries a case
into dense
old growth forest
takes out a trombone
attaches the mouthpiece
her first breath
is hesitant
but she finds whispered
rhythm in the wind through
the treetops
it begins to
coalesce in her
soon she is slurring notes
playing blues
in E minor
the deer don't get it
they have their own rhythms
but squirrels
nod and begin
to dance as they fill
secret hollows with hard
shelled acorns
groundhogs dig it
beavers slap time with
broad tails behind the beat
LOL. Love this. It's very whimsical for you!
DeleteFun poem Tad. As a musician I can appreciate this poem!!!
DeleteA very sweet poem this, loved the images.
DeletePaul and I had a little jam session once and rabbits and birds came and sat around us and listened. It was so entrancing that we kept playing the same tune over and over so they wouldn't run off. I enjoyed reading your forest poem. I like "the deer don't get it" they live in a world of their own. But other animals actually do enjoy music. I liked "groundhogs dig it" also that was a great play on words.
ReplyDeletetime is a concept
ReplyDeletefast or slow depends on us
clock watcher - everyone
I am not a clock watcher so time just moves with the sun and moon for me. The only time I watch the clock is when I have an appointment. Then, you are right the concept is either slow or fast depending on the importance of the appointment. Fun senryu.
DeleteI agree with Linda. Although I am a clock watcher, not everyone is. It might work better with "clock maker everyone" since we make our own fast or slow concept of time.
DeleteI like the amount of emotion you put into this small poem. I thought it was a haiku but, am informed it is a senryu.
DeleteLovely to see a poem by you here again. Congratulations and much love from one of your fans.
DeleteI realized I have a very old poem that fits the theme too.
ReplyDeleteMAP OF THE AREA
I hiked alone, liked how it felt,
to be where no one would look if
I got lost. I had my trail map,
signposts painted on trees, dots to
guide me through the green trail, white trail,
blue trail, yellow trail. I stopped, knew
I had no idea where
I was, my map too vague, signs
pointed in all directions.
I heard bird songs, wind rustled
leaves, sounds I had come to hear.
I saw budded trees, green plants,
marshes, rocks, hills, things I had
come to see. I longed for what
I had left behind by choice.
I know that feeling of being lost in the woods. It's always handy to carry a compass. I loved the things you came to see and how you longed for the things you left behind by choice. I really enjoyed this poem.
DeleteEven though you got lost in the woods, it's still a pretty poem. I enjoyed it.
DeleteOkay, I give up trying to format this f***ing cleave poem for Blogger. There does not seem to be any way to make it work. So please try to read it as is, but you have to read it this way.
ReplyDelete1. Read everything before the "-" as one stanza.
2. Read the parts of the lines after the "-" as the second stanza.
3. Read the whole line for the 3rd stanza.
MORTALITY REALITY
mortality’s reality - a funeral procession
shades my day - flags on antennae
lifetimes move - flutter in passing
at videogame speed - in a blink of my eye
not the speed of - slow cars that move like
long games of Monopoly - memories
from my childhood summers - at winter’s end
worlds change in milliseconds - mourning a death
I skip towards my end - time moves too quickly
I try to live as I wait - for people to die
This has very raw emotion and shows both the speeds of slow time and quick time. I read it exactly as you said to and it worked out beautifully. A lot of splendid imagery of childhood summers and life changing. Great style of poetry.
ReplyDeleteFascinating poem! The images of the funeral procession fit the way the lines flow. Really interesting to read and pictue at the same time.
ReplyDeleteSubstance of Time
ReplyDeleteTime is strange elastic stuff.
It refuses to stretch, then in the dentist's waiting room
makes puddles on the floor.
Time spells itself out in wrinkles,
dried leaves, flaking paint,
full blown blossoms and ripe fruit.
During moments of sheer love, time ceases to be.
Time stitches itself into a quilt that warms me
when I wander in the bleak of pain or the chill of regret.
It takes my years and wraps them into a memory album
flipping the pages over and over.
Can I trust time to bring me itself when I need it most?
Only if I pierce each passing speck with my glance,
remaining true to my focus, present in each moment.
Time is to be cherished regardless how many lifetimes pass,
each unique, each a twig on the tree of life.
Time will hold my memory even if I forget.
Pictures in Time's album bring smiles, tears, or bits of life
long since flaked away from timeworn surfaces.
Each moment of my life is a precious link to all moments
is a river in which I swim or float as the case may be.
Beautiful imagery. I especially love the first stanza. I think it could stand alone as a poem. The only line I had a problem with was "Can I trust time to bring me itself when I need it most?" I not only tripped on it "verbally," I had to read it like three times before I could figure it out. In other words it stopped me cold in a poem that otherwise flowed nicely.
Delete