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    Parker Owens
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Idylls of Isolation: NaPoWriMo 2020 - 1. April 1-7, 2020

Here is the offering for this week. I hope you will forgive any errors I may have made. Special thanks to @AC Benus for inspiration on April 5.

April 1

 

Teach me, oh brook

to live within a moment’s flash

when one might look

upon a stem of mountain ash

or contemplate the thunder’s crash;

perhaps abash

the visage of that tawny youth

with grin so brash

and manner bold, rough hewn, uncouth,

no thoughts of sadness, shame or ruth.

Play, lyre and crwth

to turn that head of flame-red hair,

and sing his truth

That I might glimpse his smile so rare,

a moment to the heart ensnare.

Flow, lessons fair,

instructions from your murmured book

to answer prayer

that I, in fleeting ardor shook

by laughing eyes was not mistook.

 

 

April 2

 

It was old

four long decades ago,

with its painted finish chipped and worn

and thin cubbies constructed for a bygone age,

yet the fold-down desktop still works fine,

slots and shelves awash with

poetry.

 

 

April 3

 

Blesséd be the rising birdsong

Greeting day behind the hill;

Morning stars won’t tarry too long

While the air is cool and still.

 

Blesséd be the noonday laughter,

children chasing in the wood;

Robins court and soon thereafter

know the joys of parenthood.

 

Blesséd be the sheeted cloudwrack

creeping rumpled from the west,

promise of the spring to come back

all in bud and blossom dressed.

 

Blesséd be full-throated thunder,

Stone and stem and bone to shake;

Lightning’s flash reveals the wonder

On our faces as we quake.

 

Blesséd be reluctant rainfall

whispered like the kiss we share

while in velvet nightbound heartthrall

echoing the love we swear.

 

 

April 4

 

Too silent

is my contemplation

where no voices tell me what to think

or which reaction is least inappropriate,

and no commotion can mask my words;

but hearing the sink drip,

all is blank.

 

 

April 5

 

A Golden Shovel poem. The last word of each line is a word in the final couplet of @AC Benus's Sonnet 34 from Rima Fragmenta, Sonnets for Kevin.

 

He said No,

and yet I wanted more

of him and his infectious grin than

the minute taste our brief acquaintance gave me; a

second chance to beguile time’s river,

as only yearning can

make hearts run.

Fate opposed

my hopes, for they within

no course of metaphysics ran, and its

pitiless, predestined channels made steep, strict banks

through which all-potent Chronos dashed as

if to ignore our own two

small currents

in hearts

enclosed.

 

 

April 6

 

Two geese stand watchful

in the reeds on the far shore,

weighing their options.

 

Loquacious Mallards

tricked out in emerald green

discuss the weather.

 

Sexy boys,

dressed to kill in their best,

slowly drift my way on the current,

unaware of my avid gaze locked upon them;

goodness knows how many hearts they’ll break

on the stream before they

fly away.

 

Canvasbacks paddle

Across the glassy harbor

Preparing to dive.

 

Kingfishers chatter

over the dancing water

to taunt the small fish.

 

 

April 7

 

Some numbers

are grand, unwieldy affairs,

like quaternions and transcendentals;

And some loom large,

measured in the umpteen-‘tillions,

with extra zeroes stored in plastic bins in the basement;

While still others

can only be named by their masters:

Avogodro, Planck, Euler;

But none of these

would dare appear, smeared in sweet icing

on my birthday cake.


Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed them. Feel free to leave a comment; rant or rave, I look forward to anything you might say.
Copyright © 2020 Parker Owens; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

I'm glad I took the journey, Parker. These times we're in have their own difficulties, and I find myself sparring with melancholia on a daily basis. You left me with a smile, and I am thankful for it. Excellent work, here. Sorry, I can't pick a favorite... but April 3... was wonderful... :hug: 

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1 hour ago, Headstall said:

I'm glad I took the journey, Parker. These times we're in have their own difficulties, and I find myself sparring with melancholia on a daily basis. You left me with a smile, and I am thankful for it. Excellent work, here. Sorry, I can't pick a favorite... but April 3... was wonderful... :hug: 

Thanks so much for reading and responding to these. Isolation has plenty of ups and downs, and I’ve never been fond of roller coasters. No need to pick a favorite, but it makes me glad April 3 appealed to you. 

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6 hours ago, aditus said:

I like all of them. #1 is my favorite. It reflects my early summer.

 

 

Thank you for taking time to read these, and for your responses. I’m very happy you liked April 1. I so enjoyed writing it. 

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I'm honored by the inspiration the Kevin Sonnet No. 34 raised in you. And I think the result is an admirable one :)

All of these first-week poems really speak to me. The blending of natural sights with emotional insight is accomplished here. I look forward to seeing next week's too. 

BTW, rima fragmenta - 50 Sonnets for Kevin is available as both an ebook and print-on-demand paperback from Amazon ;)  But here is No. 34:

 

The Bard wrote of having the love of his boy –

Professed his ability to absolve

Every perceived wrong with a grinning ploy –

Yet here I sit with nothing but my resolve.

Perhaps not ready to confess it yet,

Your acts speaker louder than any poet

When our ebb and flow produces the sweat

Any man would envy as proof of it.

So, can great love be a one-sided conceit;

Move in but one direction as it were;

Act in the manner of a one-way street?

No. For true give and take can be singular

No more than a river can run opposed

Within its banks as two currents enclosed.

 

 

 

Edited by AC Benus
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On 4/9/2020 at 12:57 PM, AC Benus said:

I'm honored by the inspiration the Kevin Sonnet No. 34 rained in you. And I think the result is an admirable one :)

All of these first-week poems really speak to me. The blending of natural sights with emotional insight is accomplished here. I look forward to seeing next week's too. 

BTW, rima fragmenta - 50 Sonnets for Kevin is available as both an ebook and print-on-demand paperback from Amazon ;)  But here is No. 34:

 

The Bard wrote of having the love of his boy –

Professed his ability to absolve

Every perceived wrong with a grinning ploy –

Yet here I sit with nothing but my resolve.

Perhaps not ready to confess it yet,

Your acts speaker louder than any poet

When our ebb and flow produces the sweat

Any man would envy as proof of it.

So, can great love be a one-sided conceit;

Move in but one direction as it were;

Act in the manner of a one-way street?

No. For true give and take can be singular

No more than a river can run opposed

Within its banks as two currents enclosed.

 

 

 

The couple it Sonnet 34 spoke to me the first time I read it, and again in considering this new poem. You probably also noticed the modified skyscraper form for this poem. So many gifts you give us. I’m very glad these first seven connected with you. 

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8 minutes ago, Parker Owens said:

The couple it Sonnet 34 spoke to me the first time I read it, and again in considering this new poem. You probably also noticed the modified skyscraper form for this poem. So many gifts you give us. I’m very glad these first seven connected with you. 

Yes, the two together Skyscrapers together resembles a Bridge, a new form. It can be up for grabs if people want to think of it as the Brooklyn Bridge or the Golden Gate Bridge ;) 

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19 hours ago, AC Benus said:

Yes, the two together Skyscrapers together resembles a Bridge, a new form. It can be up for grabs if people want to think of it as the Brooklyn Bridge or the Golden Gate Bridge ;) 

I like that name: Bridge form. I’ll opt of the Golden Gate :) 

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I seem to have been making a mistake passing by these various and sundry poetry contributions. Today I stopped and it was as if I opened a canvas bag and out tumbled jewels of every  color and description. Mistake corrected! Thank you for your contribution — these are wonderful.

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2 hours ago, starboardtack said:

I seem to have been making a mistake passing by these various and sundry poetry contributions. Today I stopped and it was as if I opened a canvas bag and out tumbled jewels of every  color and description. Mistake corrected! Thank you for your contribution — these are wonderful.

I’m humbled by your characterization of these small offerings. It was so good of you to read them, and it makes me smile to know you enjoyed the moments you spent with them. Thank you! 

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