Looking at Paris

Yellow sunset over Paris
Ferris wheel obscures Polaris
City spins below
Glow of lights on snow
Love spins slow
I know this

This is my entry for the the Skeptic’s Kaddish W3 Poet of the Week Prompt by Melissa Lemay – to write a poem in any form using one of 2 Marc Chagall paintings as inspiration and incorporating the colors into the poem. I chose the above picture and used the Welsh form of the Clogyrnach. That is a rhyming and syllabic form of a 6 line stanza with a syllable count of 8/8/5/5/3/3 coupled with a rhyme scheme of a/a/b/b/b/a. I was feeling a little rambunctious and added some additional rhymes. (Can you find them?)

Looking to Relax

On David’s blog, the Skeptic’s Kaddish, he hosts this week’s poet of the week, Suzette Benjamin. Her challenge is to write a Haiku or Tanka on the theme of “a favorite way to relax/unwind”. I used to love the Haiku. I used to write Haiku. But the funny thing was that the more I wrote and learned the less satisfied I was with my results. So I stopped writing them. I had been playing around with the Haiku again. Then this prompt. I took it as a sign that it was time to give Haiku another shot.

Pull tedium’s thread
Unravel the mind and heart
Breathe in love’s perfume

And because it is how I roll, a little explanation: When I’m really stressed and need to unwind I like to do a little visualization. I imagine the worry is a knitted sweater. And I find the thread and just pull. I also wind the yarn into a ball and then toss it away. To finish my “unwinding” I find Sparky and get my hug quota. I can smell love. I can hear the words “I love you” in each heart beat. Yep. That’s my relaxation.

Looking Tumultuous

This is my W3 poetry prompt entry for this week. The Poet of the Week, Punam, has challenged us to write an acrostic poem using one of the 5 words provided. I chose Tumult, as that has been a close companion for me this week. Between the thunderous coughing, the sudden gushing of liquid from my nose, and my seeping eyes all the world is in tumult! I was able to get an appointment at the “Furi” (pronounced Fury not furry) clinic. The good news is that I have antibiotics for the sinus infection and bilateral “pink eye”. The bad news is that I tested positive for COVID (after 2 negative tests at home). The good news is that my isolation period is over but the bad news is that the window for antiviral treatment has closed…

Try to ignore the rumbling thunder
Under dark clouds split asunder
Make no mistake the rain a pattern soars
Uproar to punctuate need to shelter indoors
Like lightning spiders in sudden spike
Thunderstrike we clutch each other

And since I wasn’t suffering enough, I did a little playing around with the rhyme so that it is reflected at the end of one line and the beginning and end of the next… and no it isn’t perfected but it was fun…

Looking Consonance in the Eye and Assonance in the….

This week’s W3 prompt was set by no other than the host himself David at the Skeptics Kaddish. His prompt was to write a poem of at least 6 lines using consonance and/or assonance. That is the device of using repeated consonant sounds or repeated vowel sounds. I used both. Well, we stared each other down for a couple days then did a little dance (like cats before the brawl). And then – BAM! Consonance and assonance jumped me and we went a couple rounds. I got in some jabs and a few solid slaps while consonance had both hands in my hair but assonance kicked my… butt.

My brain is not on the thought train
I take the inane lane to attain naught
Slate blank, taut, I strain
Mate bade me to bed trot
Its late but I may yet sate this muse
Rake great lines in heaps straight
Taint the page with words abused
Nay ain’t a gnat’s trace of my poetic trait

Looking Momentous

Destiny is Poet of the Week for W3 hosted by David on The Skeptic’s Kaddish. Her prompt is to write a Memento! The Memento is traditionally written about a celebration or anniversary. It consists of 2 six line stanzas with a strict syllable count and rhyme scheme. The syllable count is 8/6/2/8/6/2 and the rhyme is a/b/c/a/b/c. As the added inspiration Destiny asks that we feel free to add an extra stanza and we are not constrained to an anniversary or celebration. Rather we are encouraged to explore a moment or an emotion.

Christmas, New Years, Valentine’s Day
Proposal eludes me
Time freeze
”Pee or get off the pot” I say
Ask me or set me free
I tease

A date – over dessert tarry
He pauses for effect
Ties shoe
Takes my hand asks me to marry
Eyes meet our lips connect
I do

Overjoyed I can’t wait to share
Loudly shout I’m engaged
Big ring
Start planning the blissful affair
Happy tears – joy uncaged
I sing

I have engagements on the brain – ring fever. Son #2 has confided that he is planning to ask his girlfriend to become his wife. I’m thrilled. We discussed rings (my mother had quite the selection and I had offered to let him choose one of them should he ever decide to get married). Which of course when this prompt was revealed, I immediately reminisced about my own engagement. Which was definitely a moment and emotional! It was a rather low key event, not on any particular day or occasion, but just a regular date night. We had dinner and he suggested we could split a dessert (ooh fancy). As I recall it was cheesecake. As we were getting ready to leave he very casually asked me to wait a second as he needed to tie his shoe. While on one knee he took my hand and simply asked if I’d marry him. We kissed. Then we rushed to tell his parents and then my grandparents and from there phone calls were made to inform all the family out of town – my parents and sisters, and his siblings. At the end of the night our faces hurt from smiling so widely for so long! And we had chocolate pudding on top of having had cheesecake!

Looking for Beauty

Slice away epidermis look beneath, prove beauty’s only skin deep.

The above is my American Sentence for the W3 poetry prompt. Poet of the week, Kitty’s Verses author Aishwarya, has asked that we write either an American Sentence or a Limerick with the theme of beauty. Although this is a rather shocking poem, it has its origins in my childhood. You see I was always a black and white kind of kid – either right or wrong, good or bad. I would take things literally. So when I was about 5 or 6, I’d heard my mother comment that beauty was only skin deep. I was also of a scientific bent and wanted to test that theory of beauty. I did what any curious kid would do – I looked under my skin – by prying up the rather large scab that was on my knee. Yes it hurt (but for science I was willing to endure a moment of discomfort), and yes it bled (not as much as when I went skidding down the driveway on my knees). But it also proved that beauty was only skin deep to my mother. You see, I was able to observe the tiny strands that held the scab in place and the small dots that started to seep my blood. To me that was miraculous and beautiful. I thought I must have been mistaken about how beautiful it looked until I heard my grandmother’s response that “beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” That was when I knew that beauty went all the way through changing in composition and appearance from the exterior to the interior!!

I still believe insides are as beautiful as outsides ever were!

Looking at Hope

Hope is freely found when sought
Key to life with peace of mind and love to give
Some believe hope can be bought
But the cost too expensive
When told faith is the coin they get defensive

Hope is seldom diminished
By hunger, thirst, or mental depravity
But strengthened by good things wished
To counteract gravity
Of despair when death strips joy – a travesty

Hope is pushing past the pain
Looking back it races through the night toward day
When spring thoughts of love our gain
And from eyes tears wiped away
Hope’s embrace lifts weary hearts and fear allay

Hope is youth flying up high
And age soaring to heaven on angel wings
A promise you can’t deny
Voiced in pure tones sweet Hope sings
Wait in anticipation for what time brings

This is my poem for the W3 Poetry Prompt set by the Poet of the Week, Kerfe Roig. Her prompt was to write a poem using the words “Hope is…” taken from Emily Dickinson who famously wrote a poem that begins with the line: ‘Hope is the thing with feathers’.

I chose to do this as a Lira. The Lira is a Spanish form with a strict syllable count and rhyme scheme. It consists of any number of 5 line stanzas having a syllable count of 7/11/7/7/11 and the rhyme scheme of a/b/a/b/b.

Looking at Abandonment

This is my offering for the W3 Poetry Prompt this week as put forward by Punam – to write a Pantoum about abandonment. The Pantoum is a Malaysian form of interlocking 4 line stanzas where the 2nd and 4th lines become the 1st and 3rd lines in the following stanza. The rhyme scheme is abab, bcbc, cdcd, etc. And the last stanza utilizes the 1st and 3rd lines from the 1st stanza as the 2nd and 4th lines. There is no set line length or meter.

I embrace the great abandonment
As the sun sets over the hill
I know that love was heaven sent
Feel that you love me still

As the sun sets over the hill
Streams of water run from my eyes
Feel that you love me still
I see the angels in the skies

Streams of water run from my eyes
Wealth and comfort I leave behind
I see angels in the skies
Hope that greater riches find

Wealth and comfort I leave behind
I know that love was heaven sent
Hope that greater riches find
I embrace the great abandonment

There are lots of different kinds of abandonment. People abandon hope, dreams, faith, love, homes, and even family and children and spouses. Anything you can have can be abandoned. The greatest and most final abandonment is of this life. Death separates us. We feel abandoned by those who have died.

Looking at Handkerchiefs

This weeks Poet of the Week for the W3 poetry prompt is Michelle Ayon Navajas. Her prompt on David’s blog The Skeptic’s Kaddish is to take out your handkerchief. During the Renaissance period, a handkerchief was considered a powerful symbol of women. Giving this item to a woman meant true love, honesty, commitment, and righteousness. If by chance you don’t have a handkerchief, explore your creative side and imagine you are holding one right now. Write an ode to your handkerchief and make it sound like a love ode.

I call myself modern I’m not prone to weeping
Yet I hold hankies close to my heart for their safe keeping
The first is thin as tissue, lilac and pressed
Trifold clipped when to the nines my mom’s mother dressed
Still indented from the brooch that held it to her breast
The next has dainty needlework in each lacy corner
Dad’s mom tuck’d it in her sleeve like the one who borne her
Another is less fancy made of coarser cloth
It bears a tiny hole sign of damage from a moth
Great grandma’s – present when she pledged her troth
All these ladies hankies are precious in my mind
A history of my grandmas separate and yet combined
But the most valuable is not a pretty square
It is my father’s handkerchief a big cotton affair
When I remember him that handkerchief is there
Prone to nosebleeds he always carried two
Mother tried to keep them white but no matter what she’d do
They’d end up yellow with brown blotchy stains
Soaked and bleached even now every stain remains
When opened wide all hurts it could contain
It wiped noses, scraped knees and blood that was seeping
And now holding it with love, I’m once more weeping

Looking at iRobot Love

This week the W3 Poet of the Week is none other than the host David at The Skeptic’s Kaddish. His challenge is to write a poem from the perspective of an inanimate household object, using personification. Several years ago Sparky gave me a gift that traditionally would result in ridicule and pouting. He gave me a Roomba iRobot. I love my Roomba (named Mo) and Mo loves me – I’m certain of it. He willingly cleans under beds and furniture where I’m convinced the spiders (shiver) lurk. Here’s a fun little Acrostic poem as my offering this week!

Breathe easy amid glitter and hurt
On me rely to sweep up dirt
Over and under I know the way
My mechanical heart beats today
Be still, be calm, deep breath, rest
Always know I love you the best

I’ve been faithful it’s always you
Ready and willing, to you I’m true
Others ignore, don’t know I’m smart
Blush and push my button to start
Once we met there was never a doubt
Trust and affection my mantra I shout

And yes my roomba does “shout”! When he’s stuck or his battery is low he’ll talk to me and let me know he needs my attention. Often it is a simple “Move to a new location” or his cryptic love song of tuneful beeps and boops. No matter I’m willing to reciprocate his care of me with care for him.