Meeting the Bar; Tanka

wind of dawning spring
caresses our naked forms
intertwined we sleep
the waterfall’s basin fills
overflowing like our love

Toni instructs us on the beauty of the Japanese tanka form over at dVerse Poets Pub.  Come give it a try!

The Portal

Photo of pink depression era glass jar:  Bing Photos

Photo of pink depression era glass jar: Bing Photos

It came to me in
repeated dreams:
Keep them in a
contained portal
and when you
are in need
open it and
let them be
(come).
My wishes,
hopes and
yearnings
are held within
a pink, tinted jar,
ready and waiting
for happy beginnings.

Bjorn is back from his hiatus and hosts our Quadrille Monday at dVerse Poets…please join us!

Linger

Photo by Gayle Rose; Hibiscus Bloom

Photo by Gayle Rose; Hibiscus Bloom

How quick we are
And impatient
We’ve become
So many in a hurry
Their lives in a flurry
Gone the stillness
Of a moment to be
To linger and tarry
Examine and wonder
Such a loss, such a shame
There’s so much to ponder
To see the beauty
To notice around us
Myriad small joys
Abounding among us
Take a moment, won’t you
Slow yourself down
Nature especially
Can bring us around
It’s the simplicity of life
That connects us to see

Join me this afternoon as I host Open Link Night at dVerse Poets.  Link up any one poem of your choice to share.

Sapphire Sky

Born under a sapphire sky in early September,
fresh wash hung drying by a light, fall breeze that day,
birds vied for seeds from a feeder and a cat laid curled in the sun.
 
The house kept five of us now and the backyard was our playground.
Two of us would sit on the back steps, perusing the loftiness of the
Australian Pine, the shapes in the clouds and the back woods.
 
This beauty was in deep contrast to the darkening, indigo storm within.

De is our host for Poetics over at dVerse Poets Pub…come join us for a mid summer prompt.

Dark Beast

Pervasive thoughts
unwanted
swing me from peace
and calm off the
abyss into the depths
of fear and panic
where my heart
pounds
in my ears
louder
and
louder
my muscles
tighten
and my
hands
clutch each other
in a vain attempt
to console
but tension
does not
bring about
relaxation
NO
I must
breathe
s l o w l y
in
and
out
and, if need be,
sequester myself
away from well-meaning
people who are NEVER
able to restore my calm
by their good-intentioned
words of rational beseeching.
 
What I fear the most is this dark beast that creeps up on me without warning.

Mish is our host at dVerse Poets and asks us to write on “What are you afraid of?”

Still Hope

Gayle Walters 1st grade photo

Gayle Walters 1st grade photo

Only six years old,
there’s still hope
in those pure eyes.
The smile is genuine,
accessorized by dimples.
There’s a semblance
of safety that’s still
being met. Fear and
panic has yet to set a
pathway through
my neurons. Only six,
there’s still hope.

Lillian is our host for our Quadrille prompt over at dVerse Poets.  Come join the fun with one of most popular prompts, to write a poem in 44 words.

Janeiro

"Janeiro" by Catherine Walters; All Rights Reserved

“Janeiro” by Catherine Walters; All Rights Reserved

 

A perpetual beat is
going on in her head.
Some think she’s a
clown as her life
mimics the rhythmic
pulsing within.
A wild dance
fires her mind
and paints her
world in vivid
splashes of
color. Passion
is orange, zesty
with fervor,
it’s what propels
her silken soul.

She wears her heart
on her sleeve but
no one notices
because it’s lost
among all the
colorful and
artsy accessories
adorning her
clothing and
etching her face.

Some keep their
distance; she’s
just too different.
But inside she’s
deeply sensitive
and wants more
than anything
to be accepted
and loved.
No one notices
as a tear some-
times slips and
rolls silently
down her cheek.

She was born
in January,
sign of Capricorn.
And it suits her.
She is diligent
and responsible,
honest and
patient…waiting,
always waiting
for others to
finally see her
strengths and
her heartfelt
determination
to succeed
at life and make
that connection
with others.

I wrote my ekphrastic poem using my very talented niece’s painting titled, “Janeiro.”

Today is Open Link Night where Grace hosts us over at dVerse Poets Pub.  Please join us by linking any one poem of your choice.

Curses!

My car’s air conditioning had gone out. Yes, gone out in this miserable and all-encompassing heat.  But I had received it back from the mechanic and had been assured all was well after spending close to $1,000.00 on a new compressor and accumulator (whatever that is).  So as I took off to do my errands the next day I fully expected cold, refreshing, frigid air to be copiously blowing forth from my brand new air conditioner…but, no, it did not.  It was doing what it had done when I took it in…switching on and off, willy-nilly.  Right now it was blowing HOT!  Returning home, I called the mechanic and reported my sorrowful predicament as sweat slowly trickled down my neck.  It’s going back in next week…CURSES!

heat wave shimmers a
mirage—cool, undulating
ripples form a swell

* As a side note, my car went back to the mechanic last week where they replaced another part (only charged me for the part, no labor) and although the car cooled on the way home, it stopped again and has started going on and off again.  Argh!  Back it goes later this week.  The mechanic couldn’t believe it and wants to keep the car and drive it for a couple of days so he can see what it’s doing.  Really bad timing!

Toni is our host for Haibun Monday.  See her presentation at dVerse for all the details and join us for one of our most popular prompts.

Government on the Down Low

our
“fair”
process
fails
through
deceit
setups
payoffs
corruption
shot through
with lie
upon
lie
 
the
innocent
railroaded
sent
behind
cold,
unyielding
bars
that
keep out
the truth
 
death row
is how
you’re
sent down
the river
without
a paddle
mostly
forgotten

certainly
our justice
system
works
tirelessly
to make
sure all
is on the
up and up
and not
the down low
 
Ha!
 
I’ve seen the
light
and I’m
going to
shine it bright
on the shameful
conditions
that cage
and murder
the guiltless
 
It cannot be
that there
is this penalty.

Today at dVerse Poets we revisit our friend Anthony Desmond and our prompt is to write on a belief that you once held that has now changed.

Two Tweet-Length Poems

I.

5th anniversary celebration,
old friends revisited feels
slightly melancholy, new
year ahead, clean slate
permits new inspiration,
growth and fun
 

II.

meeting a date,
conversation flow-
ing but feel no spark
then he turns the
convo to politics and
starts dissing Hillary
date quickly takes
a nose dive 

We visit with our former member, Samuel Peralta, at dVerse Poets Pub for our 5th Anniversary celebration and write a poem using 144 characters.

The Village

Artist: Claudia Schoenfeld Used with Permission

Artist:  Claudia Schoenfeld; Used With Permission

Greenwich Village was once a haven for beatniks, artists and poets.
Bohemians still stroll past cello players on the sidewalk in front of
luxury high rises, old-world townhouses and family-owned businesses.

Tenement style walk-ups and brownstones are interspersed with night clubs.
And you can still feel the rich history from the 1950s Beat generation
and the homosexual revolution that brought about social change.

Macho men of the disco era are long ago vestiges of the village.

Victoria is our host for our second day of celebration for our dVerse Poet’s Pub 5th anniversary with an interview with our beloved co-founder Claudia Schoenfeld.  Click the link to see what our prompt is for today.

Intersecting Lives

Two women’s
lives intersect as
their life journey
connects them online
through their writing.
I admire her quilting,
her husband’s
talent with embroidery
and posted photos of
her surrounding
landscape.
When I learn that
she has unexpectedly
passed away, my
heart misses a beat.

Join us at dVerse Poets as Grace presents an interview with one of our beloved co-founders, Brian Miller, for our 5th anniversary celebration this week.  We are also writing a Quadrille today…click on the link for details.

Wild Roses

The trellis is filled
with abundant, rainbow
hued blossoms of
pale sun, pinks like
baby cheeks and just
a light caress of
lilacs. Summer’s
bountiful rains
bring twining,
wild roses.
They thrive
weaving in and out,
and support each other,
climbing the arbor untamed.

Bjorn provides our word to use in our Quadrilles today over at dVerse Poets…join with us in one of our most popular prompts!

Kosame

Shallow creek running through Mead Botanical Garden; Photo from Yelp

My friend and I were on our bikes oblivious to the scorching midsummer day. We just enjoyed riding, feeling the wind in our hair and having the freedom to go wherever we wanted.  On this day we made our way over to Mead Gardens a few miles from our homes.  It was a 48 acre botanical garden with an ancient glass hothouse where gorgeous orchids still thrived.  The door was locked but we would peer in through the green algae-covered windows and admire the flowers.

Soon the sky darkened with the expected afternoon rains. No thunder or lightning but just a light rain fell and we made our way over to the small, shallow creek that gently trickled through the garden.  We jumped in with our already wet clothes on and walked through the water meandering through the lush foliage that grew along the banks.  It was just another summer adventure for us; we didn’t care one bit that we were sopping wet.

butterfly garden
chrysalis hangs from milkweed
liquid crystals drip

Toni is our host at dVerse Poets for Haibun Monday.  Please see her presentation there for all the details.

Afflicted Bane

Down to the basement, dark and damp
stamping my feet to scare what may
play and scatter down there. Things in corners,
(foreigners with matted fur and eyes of red)
bred to frighten and scare me silly.
Willies they give me and shudders and shrieks,
(speak in low and guttural growls)
foul and forlorn their lives down there.
Fair, not one bit; their teeth are green.
Between the washer and the dryer
higher up on the shelf above
sort of wedged back way too far
are the canned beans I need.
Flee fast as soon as I grab,
drab basement, my afflicted bane
gaining speed up the steps, I depart
heart thumping, safe at last.

Victoria instructs us on meter and setting a mood at dVerse Poets.  I chose a chain/link form to attempt matching meter to mood.  Oy!  I have no idea what I’m doing!

Goddess of Mercy; Quan Yin

Supreme goddess
hears the cries of the world
and eases the suffering
of all sentient beings.
She’s the Goddess of Mercy,
a bodhisattva who’s
vowed to free us all from life’s
cycle of birth and death
and maya’s gripping hold.
She embraces our sorrows
and soothes our spirits
while pouring
cool, calming waters
of compassion
over our anguished souls.
She’s promised to remain
in these earthly realms
even though her
own enlightenment
has already been attained.
She’s empathy incarnate;
gentle and tender,
her countenance
is acceptance and
loving-kindness toward all.
You need but utter her name and
she will at once be at your side,
bringing protection and gain–
ever tireless in her caring.
A regal goddess riding the waves
upon a dragon; she arrives to defend.
Even to those who create harm in others,
her benevolence holds them all with
the encompassing love of a mother.

O mother, Quan Yin, I take refuge
in your bountiful kindness
that shines forth with infinite purity.
I feel your grace that showers me with peace
and I know that I am protected.
I am blessed by your eternal
compassion that flows
with abundance and I feel
your warm embrace that holds
me safe until I no longer need holding.

The following are some photos of two Quan Yin statues that I own.  The brass one with Quan Yin being held aloft by a hand was brought back from Nepal from my world-traveling friend, Sandrine.  It’s very special to me. I have felt an affinity with Quan Yin since I first became acquainted with her story.

12-02-10_1356

11-14-10_1501

12-01-10_2231

Photos by Gayle Walters Rose; All Rights Reserved

Lillian is our host for Poetics over at dVerse Poets Pub and invites us to write from the perspective of a sculpture.

The Biggest Oil Spill You’ve Never Heard Of

In 2004 after Hurricane Ivan struck,
20 wells from an offshore platform
in the Gulf of Mexico owned by Taylor Energy
began leaking and has been spilling forth
oil ever since. This oil leak has been kept
secret from the public for 12 years.

Come join us as De hosts our Quadrille Monday over at dVerse Poets Pub where we write an entire poem in exactly 44 words using the word ‘spill.’

An Ordinary Day with an Extraordinary Girl

I open the screen door to the porch and make my way toward their back door. Sometimes I’ll see Dad in the doorway as he puts the finishing touches on my daughter’s coffee that she takes with her to work.  Many times I see no one until I step inside and look to my right and there I find the small child that delights my heart sitting on the sofa with her iPad on her lap.  Still in her “jammies”, she barely glances at me until I engage her with questions about the story she’s engrossed in.  “Mira, are you watching that three little pigs and the big, bad wolf video again?”

heavy humid air
lies still across the Ganga
blue crabs scuttle home

Please join us for Haibun Monday at dVerse Poets where Toni asks us to write on ordinary, everyday goings on in our lives.

Transmuted

tears_of_sadness

Bing Images Public Domain

All color is transmuted matte and gray,
the sun obscured by this ripping pain.
It’s unfathomable that you are gone,
the earth minus your comforting form.
 
My mind is fogged; I can’t conceive that
your breath has stilled to be no more.
Tears stain my face and well again
as I remember you and how we loved.
 
Your countenance pure and sweetly bright,
you brought good cheer and lifted my heart.
Accepting and kind, compassionate eyes
perused this world with a spiritual gaze.
 
For children and animals a special smile
was conveyed unlimited to share your charm.
Your hand outstretched to those along your path
was a gift bestowed like heaven on earth.
 
So though I miss you and still must mourn,
I realize that your precious time here was done.
You’re at peace now and I soon will be too
as I feel deep within that we’ll meet up again.

Join me at dVerse Poets Pub as I present writing an elegy for Meeting the Bar Thursday at 3PM.

Unwinding Along a Winding Road

Being taken on long, scenic, nature drives has always been a favorite way for me to relax. My mind instantly turns to what is outside the window and I’ve managed to catch many displays of wildlife. I’ve seen bald eagles soaring high overhead.  I’ve spotted osprey in their huge nests, tiny Kingfisher resting daintily on telephone wires, rabbits on the fringe of woods, Red-Shouldered Hawks perched on fence posts, wild turkeys gobbling on the side of roads and numerous alligators, some submerged with their long, nubby heads showing, their eyes just above the water line and many more sunning on banks.  I love catching these snippets of nature while driving along a winding trail at a state park or just out in a country setting.

One very late night several years ago, my partner at the time and I headed out of town to watch the early morning Perseid meteor shower. To get a better chance of viewing we drove away from the lights of Orlando, maybe 10 miles to the Econlockhatchee River.  Before we even reached our destination, I started seeing the telltale streaks of meteors flashing through the sky.  Calming and exciting at the same time!

Night rides can be very soothing. My mother would sometimes gather all of us kids in the car and drive around in the evenings, windows down, cooling and calming us down.

Perseid shower
blazing stars fall from the sky
vanish in a flash

Join us at dVerse Poets where Toni hosts us for Haibun Monday.  We are asked to write on ways that we truly relax.  Toni’s presentation will be published at 3PM EST Monday.  Please read it for full details.

This Day

On

a day

like this day

like no other day

before, since or after today,

it dawned anew, fresh,  pure, clean

as if the first to have been.

Yesterday is gone, the future does not exist.

So place your mind firmly on this present moment.

This point in time, it’s all we will ever have.

A Singular Moment of Spring

soft

sheer curtains

gently lift slightly

by a cool wind

that began across the lake

kicking up tiny, white, capped ripples

and carrying the fragrance of Confederate Jasmine

that mingled with the smell of wet beaches,

and freshly washed laundry just hung on the clothesline.

A singular moment of spring caught upon a sunlit breeze.

Join our host Victoria as she illustrates the art of the Etheree for us for Meeting the Bar at dVerse Poets

Adventures

Mira and I love to go on “adventures.”
A neighbor gave us a standing invitation
to visit her backyard pond and
feed the fish and turtles that reside there.
Giant green bamboo greets us.
Mud turtles and koi vie with tilapia
for our breadcrumbs.

Photos by Gayle Walters Rose; All Rights Reserved

Grace is our host for Quadrille Monday where we write an entire poem in exactly 44 words using the word “green.” Meet us at dVerse for the fun!

Nautilus

Photo from WordPress; The Daily Post

You’re coiled tighter
and tighter as you
descend in a pattern
which mirrors a nautilus.
Your polished marble
stairs mimic its
hollowed cavities.


Photo Public Domain; Chambered Nautilus
 
It’s tiny pinpoint
eye scans its world
through a blur of depth.
Propelling its pearly,
iridescent casing
up
and
down
much like
a stairway,
higher
lower,
it forages
for bits of
carrion
and searches
for a mate.
Internal spirals
create perfect
chambers
that
generates
buoyancy
and jet
propulsion
to move
up
and
down.
 
You emulate
a staircase
that winds
around
and around
guiding us
up
and
down.

Join us today for Open Link Night at dVerse Poets today at 3PM EST!  Choose any ONE poem to share.

The Battle of Puebla

This day starts like any other as if
not knowing what transpired this
triumphant, historical day in May. Is
the victory over France ours or your(s)?
Why do you celebrate as if it’s your birthday?
You Americans will take any excuse to party and
carry on. This is not even a holiday for us; you
don’t take a moment to consider what are
our thoughts. The Battle of Puebla left many dead,
but we are thankful that we prevailed.  Do
you want to rejoice with us? Then join as we
observe our independence in September and stay
by our side in honor of the voices that went silent
throughout our history to bring us freedom . As
we mark that date with festivals, we entertain the
gatherings in joy and a sheet
gently spreads over us with gratitude.  You
are invited to share as we remember those who died
so that we now live in liberty, and out from under.

Click here to see where my inspiration came from for the prompt today:  PBS’s Weekly Poem for May 7, 2012 by Naomi Shihab Nye “Cinco de Mayo”

De is our host at dVerse’s Meeting the Bar and shares a poetic form called The Golden Shovel.  Come by and see her instructions on this interesting prompt!

Dried Sky

badlands29

Photo used by permission by Mish; All Rights Reserved

Dried sky looks
down on dusty
river bed.
My feet scuff
along and kick
up tiny, grey
clouds.
Those cumulus
off in the distance
are mere mirages.
They look like
something
could rain from
them but nothing
much ever does.
No, don’t bother
looking to the
heavens for
respite from
this parchment
paper landscape.
This is the way
of these parts.
It looks like what
I imagine a barren,
faraway planet might
mimic…a panorama
of desolation.
What alien life-
forms can survive
such harsh elements?
Only the most
attuned who can see
how life can thrive
within this perfect
balance and those
who don’t waste
precious resources.

Join us at dVerse Poets with our host Mish who inspires us to write on the Southwest.

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