Patchwork Prose and Verse
Today’s poem is a Haiku, inspired by the footage on my Netvue bird camera. We always seems to find such joy in watching birds, but the truth is that they argue and antagonize each other as much as people. Perhaps we laugh because they help us see the humor in human nature and how ridiculous we look.
The Quarreling Songbirds
quarreling sparrows
bicker, spar over birdseed
like squabbling siblings
As our birds return in greater abundance making their way back from their winter in the south, I again find the deep peace of birdwatching on my front porch in the early hours of the day. It really should be called birdlistening, I’m convinced, as the sound leads the way to the sights. The breaking sunrise that shows up for work each day, combined with the gratefulness of birds singing praises, brings joy!
Redbird Song
redbird song greeting
farm morning praise at sunrise
my mother is near
A Thursday Nonet
The world thinks they were abandoned by
their guide boat in shark-infested
waters, but the truth is that
another boat came for
the honeymooners,
swept them away
to a new
better
life
Today’s host at http://www.ethicalela.com for Day 5 of the February Open Write is Amber Harrison of Oklahoma, who inspires writers to write a borrowed form poem using a fill-in-the-blank approach. You can read her prompt and the poems of others here.
Amber writes:
Today, I invite you to fill in the blanks in these lines by Whitman, or create and refill blanks of a stanza by another poet of your choice (this could be a time when you fill in the blanks expressively or reflectively in zine form):
I celebrate ________,
And what I _____ you ______,
For every ____________________ me as good
___________________ you.
Original lines by Walt Whitman’s “Song of Myself”
I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
Stolen Socks
I celebrate stolen socks
And what I tug, you wrangle
For every muscle moved by me as good
as hackles you.
Today’s host at http://www.ethicalela.com for the third day of February’s Open Write is Dr. Sarah Donovan, who inspires us to write poems that experiment with broken lines. You can read her prompt here, along with the poems of others.
I took the ghazal form today of 5 couplets with AA BA CA DA EA rhyme scheme and measured meter, reframed the whole form, relaxed the rules and broke the lines as I thought of my mother’s 81st birthday and the moments I’m so glad my camera captured before she left us in December 2015 with Parkinson’s disease. Above, she reads to her great grandson from The Sneetches by Dr. Seuss.
Shaping Future Tense
when nothing else
made any sense
when family strangers
made you tense
your lap unfolded
picture books
that tore down
every guarded fence
great grandson's
heart and mind you shaped
each page
a moment so immense
your fingers curled
his eyes unfurled
his focus on you
so intense
when nothing else
made any sense
picture books
wrote future tense
Happy Valentine’s Day!
I was cleaning out a tub of sewing notions when my eyes were drawn to a trio of heart-shaped buttons that cost 70 cents a long time ago. My mother, a master seamstress, always had an ample supply of colors of threads, buttons, and laces for her next project. She made us matching dresses and taught me to sew when I was in elementary school, even though I never graduated to zippers, braking to a hard and fast stop at buttons. Today’s acrostic poem was inspired by these heart-shaped buttons, which I believe may have been destined to be sewn onto a Valentine’s Day top for me. Mom would have been 81 next week, and she still lives on in our memories.
I Love Buttons
Because I wonder what
Unfinished dress, never-
Touched pattern, fabric-
To-be-imagined
Outfit
Never quite got
Sewn........
Tomorrow is my father’s birthday, and he’ll be celebrating eight decades of this journey. He loves his Schnoodle, Kona, and takes her to the dog park so that she can socialize with her friends while he socializes with his. Here he is, in the spirit of Valentine’s Day red, talking over the big dog/little dog fence to a fellow canine enthusiast.
Happy Birthday, Felix!
Father's birthday tomorrow, so
Everyone join me in wishing Felix a
Lovely day
In all his favorite
Xenial dog park conversations!
The first Sunday in February is set aside across our nation to honor the Four Chaplains. I attended a service this past weekend to remember them and to honor their greatest sacrifice. Today’s poem is a roundel.
Four Chaplains Roundel
USS Dorchester torpedo attack
four chaplains lost at sea~
knew they wouldn't make it back
serving God on bended knee
price of freedom isn't free
singing hymns in arm-locked pack
Nearer My God To Thee
gentle souls in night so black~
beams for all of us to see
faith, not fear, on Heaven's track
serving God on bended knee
driveway gravel crackles under tires
resident deer appears in mists
hawks hunt meadows for field mice
playful will-o'-the-wisps
gather 'round at night
you can see them ~
ancestors
long gone ~
here
he got his truck stuck
in the mud last week
and had to call a buddy with
a chain to pull him out
so now we are dickering
bickering about whether rain spots
on the road are dark or shiny
because that’s what
married people do ~
we dicker and bicker over words
in the car
playfully draw invisible
boundary lines
down the middle
just like kids
spinning tires
stuck in our own mud
all the way to see his favorite 70s band
Atlanta Rhythm Section
we sing all the words
at the show
except that one song
we remember when
link fingers
sneak a kiss
hold hands
all the way home
unstuck
invisible lines erased
humming
It’s just like a dream you can’t remember
Even though you always wish you could
When it’s gone, it’s gone forever
When it’s gone, it’s gone for G – o – o – o – o – D
Common Threads 