Fresh #poetry #photography

beauty

Fresh

 fallen the night before

crisp

 footprints on distant shore

crystalline

capturing  fallen light

colorful

red rose smiling bright

holding

hands clasped this day

speechless

love needed nothing to say

vowed

spoken to the skies

renewed

snowflakes in our eyes

free

petals fall in the breeze

laughter

whispers spoken to the trees

fallen

strong stood aged oak

memory

 song where new life awoke

reaching

striving for the sun

hoping

new path on which to run

In 75 words or less: A New Year.  Again.  Are you a fan of “new”? Or are you tired of the whole idea of “new,” preferring the tried and true? 

Newness a prompt from Poet’s United.

poets united

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Awash in Art #poetry #photography #art

“Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.” Pablo Picasso

august 2013 207

Behold art

through artist’s eyes

hold your breath

there’s no disguise

*

imagination

will you see

at  water’s edge

you’ll be set free

*

A fanciful place

to lose oneself

catch a wave

you’ll need no help

*

dust away mundane

look deep inside

a hidden world

rides on the tide

*

lost you art?

you sorry soul

without it’s depth

you won’t be whole

*

grasp its tail

come with me

ride a notion

in the artist’s sea

≈  ≈

Whether a connoisseur of art, a dabbler, a master, you might agree that to “lose art” would result in a mundane and less colorful existence.

Today’s assignment at Verse First:

Consider loss, losing, art, and their meanings for you. Then write a 6- stanza poem that contains at least two rhyme schemes. Lost? Read the poem again, identify the rhymes and give it a try.

Photograph: “Spent Wave 2 – Oil by Clare circa 1982”

Inhale #acupuncture #health #poetry

fall lake side

Inhale – Water

floating above  lily pad’s calm

Inhale –   Music

woodsy bamboo flute tones’ massage

Inhale – Sunshine

fingers warmed by golden rays

reawakened to a clear day

*

The prompt for Verse First today is:  “The work is not about the place”

“Writer’s often assume they must be in a particular place, using specific tools, with just the write atmosphere to write. I challenge that. Today, do not allow yourself to follow you own ritual and routine. Go to a place where you’ve never before written. Then write.” poets united
Thanks to Poet’s United for the challenge. This poem was written on the acupuncture table as I laid beneath needles.

Tomorrow #pain #amwriting #poetry

The sun will come up …

Tomorrow

and I bet

I’ll face this all

tomorrow

it’s not fun

*

Just thinking about

tomorrow

cancer eats the joy

and leaves a sorrow

today its won

*

When Im stuck in a day

that’s sad and lonely

I must fall on my knees

and hope

and pray

*

Tomorrow

Tomorrow

 a pain free

tomorrow

is always a hope

away

*****

Annie’s Version:

Tomorrow

The sun’ll come out
Tomorrow
Bet your bottom dollar
That tomorrow
There’ll be sun!

Just thinkin’ about
Tomorrow
Clears away the cobwebs,
And the sorrow
‘Til there’s none!

When I’m stuck a day
That’s gray,
And lonely,
I just stick out my chin
And Grin,
And Say,
Oh!

The sun’ll come out
Tomorrow
So ya gotta hang on
‘Til tomorrow
Come what may
Tomorrow! Tomorrow!
I love ya Tomorrow!
You’re always
A day
A way!

From Annie

The prompt at Never Ending Story is Tomorrow and at Poet’s United – Verse First is Ordinary.

Some of us face extreme pain as part of our daily, ordinary lives.  I have managed 22 pain filled years without narcotics (except when I’ve been hospitalized).

You can sing my version of “Tomorrow” I have.  I added Annie’s version because she faced a wall of Tomorrows and managed a smile with each one. To each of you who are enduring I hope for a sun filled Tomorrow.

Painting Dawn #poetry #nablopomo #photography

dawn yokhil

Dawn peers beyond my fingertips

gently I caress your form

on your contours I ply paint

creating a masterpiece

*

Breaking over the horizon

you take my breath away

sudden rays of merging color

I hold on to purple

*

Awakened by the light

you turn to grasp me

sleepy green- eyed smile 

finger -painting the landscape of a new day

Desert-of-Sleeping-Men – Carl Warer

The prompt over at Verse First at Poet’s United is: The Body Becomes the Landscape. Looking at the photographic mastery of Carl Warner it is easy to believe.  I’m taking the contours of an early dawn landscape that could easily be a human form as my inspiration for this poem.

Memories in a box #haiku #photography

grave

All that remained

she lived in another time

memories in a box

*

memories in a box

one night set free

no holding back ghosts

reminders not needed

the world could see

The prompt at Verse First (hosted by Kim Nelson) is Ghosts, Spirits, Scares. I hope you feel the presence of a ghost  in my verse today.

We were instructed to write in 31 words or 31 lines in honor of October 31st. I chose using the haiku and tanka to write 31 lines.

Tanka:  is written by one poet and not by two (as is the echo form of the Tan Renga) the syllables count is: 5-7-5-7-7

For the love of… Food #poetry #photography

wine with the meal

My senses tell me first

something fragrant is stirring

I try not to imagine what the neighbor is cooking

my salivary glands haven’t a care they’re not looking

spicy, strong smells fill the air

*

carried away on a magic carpet

distant lands of curries and cayenne peppers

autumn colors of paprika and tumeric

dark green courgette, deep purple eggplant, and regal red onion’s sweet array

my imagination is teased with the colorful display

*

Camels loaded with untold wares

a caravan from the east

great cooks of the world plan their feast

impatiently I await gustatorial delights

*

Putting my watering  mouth into check

my rolled carpet beneath one arm

a Merlot to wet our lips

I gather my glass, green salad and my wits

always a welcome guest

magic carpet

The prompt at Verse First today is to write about food. I hope you can smell the spices as they take an Eastern journey.

Each Written Word #poetry #photography

Each word was a thread
an interwoven part
tears like dew drops
 from a broken heart
*
Each word was a plea
silent call to you
catching the phrase
before the wind it blew
*
Each word echoed love
tumbled in the waves
polished over time
waiting for the day
*
Each word a duet
a  poem in the dust
 inscribing now my fate
your embrace, I trust
*
Each word an inspiration
of stories that I live
 inked is the promise
etched upon my skin
*
While penning, what does a poet seek ~ Fame, understanding, love, expression?
This week’s Prompt from Verse First “Writer’s are lovers”
 “Writers are great lovers… and great lovers realize that they are what they love.” ~ Ginsberg
Dedicated to a  poet I have long revered
Photography is the © work of L. Moon 2013
poets united

What I learned from a Child #poetry #photography #iamwriting

Speak to me

with your wisdom eyes

I heard a child

as she stirred the waters deep

colors sparked alive

he awoke from his sleep

*

Talk to me

you laugh so much

I heard the water

as he rippled in delight

their fingers touched

as they danced in the blue-green light

*

“Listen” I said

as we heard the two

speaking fanciful words

the youth and the sage

they listened and grew

🙂

they learned as they played

Poet’s United Verse First each week chooses excellent prompts to stir the words and thoughts of the poet. This week’s prompt: “HE SAID. SHE SAID”

Poet and short story writer Grace Paley said, “It is the responsibility of writers to listen to gossip and pass it on. It is the way all storytellers learn about life.”

Natalie Goldberg expounded on this idea by saying, “We should learn to talk, not with judgment, greed or envy, but with compassion, wonder and amazement.”

Photograph: “Water Child” © L. Moon 2013

Connected #poetry #photography

Like the roots of life seeking tree

the colorful threads, a tapestry

we weave and sow

our lives together grow

what the source then

is it love for ink,  joy of  pen?

 does the dust from your star

mingle with mine no matter how far?

*

we weave and sow

and like friends tho far we grow

the songs we sing may different be

you may swim a different sea

your blue eyes twinkle mine do laugh

champagne bubbles in each other’s glass

a toast I raise to you to me

splendors shared, writers we

Join Verse First and the delightful prompt ” We are interconnected” 

Photography © L. Moon 2013