AP contest Entry

For years and years I lived
inside a cage of my own making. I
don’t know how it was built. I only know
I somehow felt it and I woke one
day to bars and knowing I was looking out
and stuck within, but I am breaking free
and spreading wings and singing loud.
I’m taking off and soaring sky high. Why
you ask? I tell you now, that in the cage is
not a place for birds or people hearts and
not a second too soon says I. I fly
and wave goodbye to those
who stay in cages, though the bars are
breached. I reached and high and
higher even though the sun may scorch
the downy feathers freedom is a sweet
sweet song. The bounds are slipped and
gravity is just a dream I left behind inside
my mind I have the love, the hope, the
strength, to leave the planet, pass through
clouds and loudly take the flight. The light
will guide me. I will close my eyes, but
still I see with soul and heart and in the center
deep and true I know I flew and keep
the ground behind, below. It’s not for me,
for now I know that there is nothing holding me
to earth but fear and doubt. It’s not about
the cage.
It’s about the wings

Image unknown from photobucket

A contest posted on All Poetry asking the question: What is your passion?
Rather than a constructed poem, I just wrote some thoughts.

I know I should but don’t,
have patience with those
who wish for death as though
it were a great adventure,
a solution to life’s troubles.

I know I should look forward
to heaven and a part of me does…
but I am in this world.
It’s all I know, though heaven is
dreamed of, prayed for.

Faith is a tricky thing.
I have it, but need more.
For now my passion is
divided between this world and
the next.

I love this earth, the sky, the sun.
The creatures that roam the land
and sky and seas are a wonder…
the sound of music or babies laughter
the feel of my husband’s hands.

The smell of coffee in the morning,
or gardenias in bloom,
the feel of sun on my face, and
cool grass under bare feet…
losing track of time in a good book.

So many things that I love,
and you ask what is my passion?
There are many things that
I could say. Music, writing, love
But the answer boils down to this:

Life.

AllPoetry Prompt

Rictameter using angel as the two syllable word

The party was a big success.
I had the shoes, the hat
the dress.
I danced dawn under the table
and I drank until my nose  well
you know…
but
I never got his name –
the one who danced,
who’s hand was at my back
and guided every graceful step
as though my feet were
winged things
and smiled awhile.
I never tired.
Now I sit
and wonder if
a hundred years will
pass ere I forget
this night,
this dance.

Image Prompt: http://img3.visualizeus.com/thumbs/10/11/03/girl,glamour,vintage,fashion,retro,surreal-4870a22c65bd353f962a8596bec6d1cc_h.jpg

To see with the narrowed down
single-minded concentration
of a child who has discovered art
in window condensation.

To forget the rest of the world
and become one single moment,
clear-eyed, one with reflection,
joyfully joined with beauty.

To look at a drawing
with imagination.
To read words and envision
a heretofore unseen universe.

To lose the concept of time,
moments stretch to days,
hours shrink to seconds,
then sails in a tub to dreamland.

To grow up to be a super-hero
pirate, fireman,  whatever can be
dreamed, be drawn, be seen
in rainy-day windows

Image prompt: Window Pictures by Barbara Fox
contest was for 15 words and obviously I did not do that – this was where the picture took me.

On Christmas Eve the bells did ring
Oh Holy Night rang through the streets
Joyous refrain the carolers sing
On Christmas Eve the bells did ring
Anticipating newborn king
Poor shepherds watched with angels sweet
On Christmas Eve the bells did ring
Time kept by snowy boot shod feet

All Poetry Contest entry – first attempt at a triolet. These were the requirements:
“A Triolet is a poetic form consisting of only 8 lines. Within a Triolet, the 1st, 4th, and 7th lines repeat, and the 2nd and 8th lines do as well. The rhyme scheme is simple: ABaAabAB, capital letters representing the repeated lines.

To make it more challenging, make each line 8 syllables in length (4 metrical feet), written in iambic tetrameter (the more common way).”

We focus on the season
the Christmas spirit
speeds from the sky
whooshes through streets
all around town

It lights on the hand of
the Salvation Army bell ringer
and causes the pause of
the shopper who digs for change
and shrugs and drops in a bill

It glows from the child who smiles
at the lights on the manger
in the downtown square
where the carolers sing Emmanuel
sparkling in eyes

It breathes and the smell of
cookies and pies drift past
the kitchen and down the hall
as a finger holds a ribbon that
becomes a bow

It wraps round the shoulders
of lonely old spouses to lift
grief for a moment and bring
memories of love and family
as the doorbell rings with a gift

It fans the heat from the sidewalk grate
and the homeless man stirs
as a cup of hot cocoa is handed
and a ride to the shelter is given
warm blanket for the night

It melts the snow on shoes in the hall
and rings with laughter and chatter
friends and relatives gather
and smile as children sneak
cookies and hugs

It ruffles the hair of the soldier
opening the package from home
carrying breath of a mother’s
prayer for safety and peace
pride mixed with fear baby boy

It joins in the candlelight service
as Silent Night fades and
folks tramp through the night
to homes remembering, laughing
dreaming, hoping.  For a better new year.

Rictameter contest entry at AllPoetry

Speaking
To all the world,
Clothed in God’s soft feathers.
You have such wisdom to impart.
Eat well, nest warm, fly high, keep watch, sing loud.
We are stuck in deep drifting snow.
Covered in boots and coats,
We don’t hear you
Speaking.

Image used for prompt: http://www.freefoto.com/preview/90-07-7?ffid=90-07-7

allpoetry contest entry

What is magic
and where do you find it?
I think it comes from
hearts that open
and minds that sing
when they should
be paying attention.

I think it comes from
eyes that stare out windows
when dishes are
being washed.

What is magic
and where does it come from?
I saw some on a
sparrows wing
yesterday at my window
and a backyard squirrel
chittered spells at me
for hours.

What is magic
and how do you keep it?
Smoke rings have more
substance
and hold the secret
of rainbows just
before they disappear.

I heard the music
as it went round the corner.
I wanted to follow
til it was gone in the night.

AllPoetry prompt: never again – 15 words

walking backwards
thinking I could turn back time
fast forward to yesterday
calling a do-over

shine a little light in here
I asked the darkman, please
but he just smiled and pointed at
the stars and shook his head

shine a little light in here
I asked the lady in the moon
but she just kept on smiling
enigmatic when all I wanted
were answers

shine a little light in here
I asked the night that settled round
the night birds sang and evening bells rang
but night just kept on falling

shine a little light in here
the darkness gathers round
and I am huddled in the corner
fear and sheer determination
stay awake, keep watch it’s coming
what it is I do not know but darkness
gathers round and I am gathered to myself
in corners former courage gone
the warmth is stripped the
armor chipped and I will not survive
without a little light in here
can you I ask I wish I plead
the bleeding stops when crops
are in the barn door shut
but horses gone I am alone
in this dark can you light a little
light a candle tiny flame
to shame the deep and help me
sleep the cold the gold of glow
will show that I am here and safe
and warm and harm will never
darken more than I can handle
hold the candle up to sky
give lie to all the bad
you had the chance before
once more just try, just try

shine a little light in here
I asked for love and spent it dear
the price but twice returned and
candle lit, my hands cupped round
softly warmed but never burned
my back I turned to darkness
I will face the light and feel
the heat of tiny sun that shames the moon
and lessens dark and keeps my eyes
turned lightward fingers gentle
flame tenders, ray senders,
carried forward carried light
shared roundabout

I have been participating in a lot of contests at AllPoetry that require brevity – usually with an image or two word prompt and a 13 to 15 word limit.  The little pieces below are some of the results.

Darkness

cold wind blows
frost fencing in a
hurt heart
nothing grows
without sun

Higher

Growing,
stretching wings
I wasn’t born with.
I am trapped by gravity…
but not forever.

Snowsong

music muffled
by snow blankets
softly piling dreams
crystal layers
frozen stars
uncounted

My Father

the things he left behind
left more questions than
answers about a life

AllPoetry Contest entry. Assignment: Write a letter to the editor about poetry – Bukowski style. Bit of a departure for me. I don’t think I would like him as a person and I may get yelled at for that. Usually when I read his work, I feel like he needed a good smack, but here it is anyway 🙂 Update: Won GOLD by the way 🙂

dear editor
(it says that on your door)

I come to this page
over and over
hoping for something
on fire or at least
smoldering
instead of cold stinking
morning after soot about “he
done me wrong and I don’t think
I can write again”
minimum requirements should
be could we sit down and
talk about it over a beer
for more than ten minutes
without one of us needing
to take a leak
or letting minds wander
to the waitress’ cleavage
there is more fire in that
shadow than this
rag ever prints
(make it my obituary –
I’ll pay extra)

yours,

smug, slightly bitchy poet