' Live-Poets Society ' – A Corner For Poetry

[AC Benus]

 

Here is today's offering....you can find the week in review at    https://www.gayauthors.org/story/parker-owens/occasionalpoetry/21

 

 

APRIL 21

 

Today I saw my God edge near my chair;

his movement subtle caught my weary eye.

I wondered what the deity did there;

was this the dreadful moment I must die?

 

I looked at God, and he gazed calmly back;

what ploy divine did he have up his sleeve?

He was no fearsome angel white or black,

but just a simple man, a touch naive.

 

They say that when you die, your sorry life

replays within your mind all in a trice.

I know my own unwound in howling strife,

yet God moved closer still, it felt so nice.

 

I died then in your arms, and yet survive;

for by your kiss I'm never more alive. 

 

It's a brilliant sonnet, Parker. Knowing we die like that is such a familiar feeling to me....

 

If I can suggest, please work on not ending your quatrains on the second line (I know, I'm a broken record). And there is something unresolved about the way it heads into the couplet. I suppose it's the change in setting - from sitting and watching to being in his arms and kissing. Maybe a slight re-keying would be better, like "If I die in your arms, and yet survive." Does my comment here make sense...? 

 

Beautiful poem, Parker!          

[Parker Owens]

@AC...I think I catch your plea rightly, and if so, your point is well taken. I will have to think on this longer. I also see your point about the transition to the last couplet. I will want to go back to the sonnet drawing board...I still like the notion of seeing god in another's face, but there is much to think over here. Many thanks!

[Parker Owens]

Here is today's poem....two more to go in April!

 

APRIL 28

 

Have I an honest choice to sleep or wake?

Perhaps may I declare, for pity's sake,

tormented restless slumber at an end,

lest sleeping cause my sanity to break?

 

Release me, please, oh Morpheus, I send

a fervent prayer; through twilight may it wend:

that some more worthy sleeper you embrace,

while all your servants carefully attend.

 

I cannot rest, my nightmare gives no grace,

it patently refuses to erase

the images burned on my inward mind,

or leave me in the dark without a trace.

 

I never knew the morn to be unkind

so as to tarry long enough to find

me wholly given over to that ache,

and in the bedsheet hopelessly entwined.

[Nick Brady]

Parker's poems emboldened me to post a few of my own and the response has been gratifying. Now Mikiesboy has invited me to this forum and here I am. I have posted to small sets of my poems and may put up a few more. As my contribution to the forum, here is (my attempt at) a sonnet.

 

CYCLE

When summer's burning heat at last is over,
and autumn rains again refresh the earth.
There is a burst of life which like a nova
hurls out the light that preceeds icy death.

The wind boils leaves in heaven's flashing cauldren
an endless stream of color swirls and falls,
and reveals Seurat's dappled vision,
a patchwork quilt that flows and covers all.

That which spring began and summer nurtured,
at autumn's end must safe be stored inside.
With winter's cold the cycle's finally ended.
Tender life digs deep, flies south, or dies.

At last comes winter's quiet time which brings
all life's return in resurrection spring.


 

[Parker Owens]

Like this! Seurat's dappled vision is a cool image.

[Parker Owens]

New offering for today.....

 

APRIL 29

 

My body is an old house,

a sad ruin, overgrown;

neither historic nor worth a detour,

and ripe for demolition.

 

But I picnicked here once,

and danced with my lover

in the green, growing garden

under the afternoon sun.

 

My body is an ancient suit coat,

worn and hopelessly outdated,

missing buttons, with gaping holes in the lining,

which no tailor's art could improve.

 

Yet it is a favorite of mine,

as I inherited it from my father;

it fits me perfectly as it did him:

I wear it everywhere I go.

 

My body is a discarded tire

abandoned in the tall weeds.

Its cracked tread worn down to nothing

lets  broken steel belting peek through.

 

Once I carried a thousand children

safely on their varied journeys.

Perhaps another life awaits:

a planter,

or a swing stretching far out over cool, shining water.

[dughlas]

 

New offering for today.....

 

APRIL 29

 

My body is an old house,

a sad ruin, overgrown;

neither historic nor worth a detour,

and ripe for demolition.

 

But I picnicked here once,

and danced with my lover

in the green, growing garden

under the afternoon sun.

 

My body is an ancient suit coat,

worn and hopelessly outdated,

missing buttons, with gaping holes in the lining,

which no tailor's art could improve.

 

Yet it is a favorite of mine,

as I inherited it from my father;

it fits me perfectly as it did him:

I wear it everywhere I go.

 

My body is a discarded tire

abandoned in the tall weeds.

Its cracked tread worn down to nothing

lets  broken steel belting peek through.

 

Once I carried a thousand children

safely on their varied journeys.

Perhaps another life awaits:

a planter,

or a swing stretching far out over cool, shining water.

 

 

Interesting and attention catching ... but ... what words will you write when you become old and worn?

[Valkyrie]

I thought those of us who frequent this forum would appreciate this  

 

[Parker Owens]

@Val...awesome!

@Dugh...dilapidated, threadbare, careworn....

[Puppilull]

I thought those of us who frequent this forum would appreciate this  

 

I love them. So funny!

[Defiance19]

Oh that is great Val!..

 

And Parker I love your latest poems, but I've run out of likes, so...   

[Mikiesboy]

Tomorrow is Day 30!!  Honestly I'm glad it's over. I'm glad I did it, but I'm glad it's over. What a lot of work. 

[Parker Owens]

I agree with Tim... A lot of work, but so worth it!  I am crazy busy tomorrow, so I am pre-posting tonight for tomorrow with my last submissions.  You can find the whole week plus at 

https://www.gayauthors.org/story/parker-owens/occasionalpoetry/22

 

 

APRIL 30

 

Come, friend

and teach to me

the art of poetry.

I would unlock the secret door 

of words.

 

Inside, 

we'll dance with syllables all dressed

in finest metre sewn,

and trade looks of 

meaning.

 

 

 

APRIL 31

 

A poem rumbles in the distance

like a summer storm.

 

Its black clouds may pass by 

to the north

leaving the earth bone dry,

or with a sprinkle of little worth.

 

But the thrill of possibility remains,

a downpour to fill the drains,

and lightning to clear the mind.

Edited April 30, 2016 by Parker Owens

[Mikiesboy]

 

I agree with Tim... A lot of work, but so worth it!  I am crazy busy tomorrow, so I am pre-posting tonight for tomorrow with my last submissions.  You can find the whole week plus at 

https://www.gayauthors.org/story/parker-owens/occasionalpoetry/22

 

 

APRIL 30

 

Come, friend

and teach to me

the art of poetry.

I would unlock the secret door 

of words.

 

Inside, 

we'll dance with syllables all dressed

in finest metre sewn,

and trade looks of 

meaning.

 

 

 

APRIL 31

 

A poem rumbles in the distance

like a summer storm.

 

Its black clouds may pass by 

to the north

leaving the earth bone dry,

or with a sprinkle of little worth.

 

But the thrill of possibility remains,

a downpour to fill the drains,

and lightning to clear the mind.

 

Is there an April 31???  Or is this just the bonus???

[Parker Owens]

Awwww, Tim, it was just a little something extra!  Just for fun...

[Aditus]

NaPoWriMo complete! Whew!

[AC Benus]

Congrats to all the April poets! I'm still playing catch-up, but I will get to read all your work in the coming weeks.

 

One of the prompts tempted me this morning; the one about using seldom-heard words. This notion, coupled with some blogs I've read recently, resulted in this little 'gem.' hehe

 

 

Style guide writers, with their endless lists of 'DON'Ts'

Are like herniated bivalves

Bloviating it from both ends.

 

 

(I hope it made you laugh )

Edited May 5, 2016 by AC Benus

[Mikiesboy]

Awwww, Tim, it was just a little something extra!  Just for fun...

Yipee!!!  hehe

[Puppilull]

Congrats to all the April poets! I'm still playing catch-up, but I will get to read all your work in the coming weeks.

 

One of the prompts tempted me this morning; the one about using seldom-heard words. This, coupled with some blogs I've read recently, resulted this little 'gem.' hehe

 

 

 

Style guide writers, with their endless lists of 'DON'Ts'

Are like herniated bivalves

Bloviating it from both ends.

 

 

(I hope this made you laugh )

I'll just get my dictionary... LOL

[Mikiesboy]

Congrats to all the April poets! I'm still playing catch-up, but I will get to read all your work in the coming weeks.

 

One of the prompts tempted me this morning; the one about using seldom-heard words. This, coupled with some blogs I've read recently, resulted this little 'gem.' hehe

 

 

Style guide writers, with their endless lists of 'DON'Ts'

Are like herniated bivalves

Bloviating it from both ends.

 

 

(I hope this made you laugh )

yup it did

[AC Benus]

I made the first draft of May's Poetry Prompt this morning. In my research I gained new respect for Ezra Pound. I had always thought of him as rather dry, but I stumbled across this stunningly beautiful poem.

 

Δώρια [[Doria]]

 

Be in me as the eternal moods

Of the bleak wind, and not

As transient things are –

Gaiety of flowers.

Have me in the strong loneliness

of sunless cliffs

And of grey waters.

Let the gods speak softly of us

In days hereafter,

the shadowy flowers of Orcus

Remember thee.  

 

 

You can find most of his poems here.  http://www.poemhunter.com/i/ebooks/pdf/ezra_pound_2012_4.pdf

Edited April 30, 2016 by AC Benus

[dughlas]

I must tell you that I shall deeply miss that daily dose of words sublime ... the other ones too. In sooth I say thanks for sharing those bits of yourself. Namaste.

[dughlas]

I made the first draft of May's Poetry Prompt this morning. In my research I gained new respect for Ezra Pound. I had always thought of him as rather dry, but I stumbled across this stunningly beautiful poem.

 

ÄÞñßá 

 

Be in me as the eternal moods

Of the bleak wind, and not

As transient things are –

Gaiety of flowers.

Have me in the strong loneliness

of sunless cliffs

And of grey waters.

Let the gods speak softly of us

In days hereafter,

the shadowy flowers of Orcus

Remember thee.  

 

 

You can find most of his poems here.  http://www.poemhunter.com/i/ebooks/pdf/ezra_pound_2012_4.pdf

It is a rather chill and overcast day here, I am in the third day of severe migraine ... these words reached me where I currently dwell.

Thank you for sharing them.

[AC Benus]

It is a rather chill and overcast day here, I am in the third day of severe migraine ... these words reached me where I currently dwell.

Thank you for sharing them.

Sorry you're in pain, Dugh. My doc has me on sumatriptan now, and it can make some days functional for me. Be well, my friend.

[dughlas]

Sorry you're in pain, Dugh. My doc has me on sumatriptan now, and it can make some days functional for me. Be well, my friend.

Thanks. I can no longer take any of the triptans. In a couple of weeks I'll get the second series of botox injections. There is still a chance they will help.