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  1. Today
  2. dcmarti1

    Redundant

    On a narrow porch in Texas, Four decades after his departure, Not even the ghosts have remained To trespass in empty, damaged houses. Four decades after his departure, His mind purposes only three: The idyllic childhood of trees and bikes Falling short for agendas and manifests. Not even the ghosts have remained; The ghost of his blacksmith great grandfather, Who shoed the horses of the timber baron, And whose marker is sunken and crooked. To trespass in empty, damaged houses, To trespass the vacant elementary, To trespass the auctioned-off junior high: Pranks would be criminally redundant On a narrow porch in Texas.
  3. Tinker

    Enough

    Yep, I can't kick the Emily habit. She does speak to me. What isn't to like about her poem? She must have been having the same day I was having.
  4. dcmarti1

    Enough

    Why kick Emily? Just teasing. I like it. Loved the personification, and USING the word diadem? 5 easy extra credit points.
  5. Yesterday
  6. tonyv

    Aesthetica

    Hi Judi, Thank you very much for trying, but this one is really not worth too much effort. It is what it is: not very good. Tony 😀
  7. Tinker

    Enough

    The Sky is Low, the Clouds are Mean The Sky is low -- the Clouds are mean. A Travelling Flake of Snow Across a Barn or through a Rut Debates if it will go -- A Narrow Wind complains all Day How some one treated him Nature, like Us is sometimes caught Without her Diadem. ~~Emily Dickinson Commentary: I guess I am on an Emily kick. This Dickinson poem is written in Common Measure which she often uses. Her poem so fits my day. Enough A damp, dirty-dishrag sky clings to me, infusing my skin with a subtle chill. The anxious flutter in my chest has not gone away from my screwed up blood test and I'll have to do it again. Phones ring with someone's pain, I respond with a hopeful, compassionate voice while their agony pulls me in. I look for a poem to share and Emily speaks my day. Sometimes, that's enough. ~~Judi Van Gorder
  8. Tinker

    Pontneddfechan 1973

    I could read poetry like this poem all day. The clarity, the amazing and unique imagery move me. And the connection to ancient days, not daft at all. I caught my breath at: "In these lichen-coated oak, where air dampens the moss bright stone, a breath of the old ways whispers myth. Daft, I know. Such places gather belief." This is what turns beautiful words into poetry. ~~Tink
  9. Tinker

    Welcome Spring

    March 21, 2019 March twenty-first is World Poetry Day! What would this world be without the beauty of words artfully placed upon a page for someone to read, exploring, condensing a poet's soul? March twenty-first also heralds in Spring! Applaud the vibrant colors of new life, sweet reverdie's pledge to paint images in vivid phrases. I pen the season's display on a scroll. ~~Judi Van Gorder Verse Form: Duodora
  10. Last week
  11. Tinker

    No Paradise

    Joel, This is so romantic. I can feel the sun. ~~Tink
  12. Tinker

    Aesthetica

    I haven't commented on this Tony, because quite frankly I can't decide how I feel about it. I want to relate and I can't. Everyone seems to get it but me. ~~Judi
  13. March 21, 2019 March twenty first is World Poetry Day! What would this world be without the beauty of words artfully placed upon a page for someone to read, exploring, condensing a poet's soul? March twenty first also heralds in Spring! Applaud the vibrant colors of new life, sweet reverdie's pledge to paint images in vivid phrases. I pen the season's display on a scroll. ~~Judi Van Gorder Verse Form: Duodora
  14. Tinker

    Welcome Spring

    I Wandered Lonely As a Cloud I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced; but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company: I gazed—and gazed—but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought: For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils. ~~William Wordsworth Hi, Happy Spring~~ Spring is about renewal, new life. Hope is reborn. Funny, it's hard to find a Spring poem without it being about flowers or with a referral to flowers somewhere in the poem. Daffodils, lilac, and here in California, poppies are in full bloom right now. The fields are blanketed with color. Delicate blossoms tentatively open in orchards across the land. Spring inspires by virtue of the vibrant colors, the newness that springs up everywhere you look. Poets have long tried to capture its message. The Reverdie (Old French - re-greening) is a genre of verse from the Middle Ages that welcomed the arrival of Spring. It celebrates the new green of the fields, the return of the birds singing and the traditional time of love. Emphasis is on the diminutive or small things. Often Spring would be symbolized by a young maiden, similar to the Irish Aisling in which a woman symbolizing Ireland described her plight.  With Spring comes Easter and some poets use the genre to celebrate the resurrection comparing the coming of Spring with the longing for heaven or using the verse to praise of the Virgin Mary. Later Occitan troubadours extended the genre to the coming of other seasons. The frame is at the discretion of the poet. However, poets have often used the frame of the Chanson in 5 or 6 stanzas without refrain. Spring Nothing is so beautiful as Spring – When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush; Thrush’s eggs look little low heavens, and thrush Through the echoing timber does so rinse and wring The ear, it strikes like lightnings to hear him sing; The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling. What is all this juice and all this joy? A strain of the earth’s sweet being in the beginning In Eden garden. – Have, get, before it cloy, Before it cloud, Christ, lord, and sour with sinning, Innocent mind and Mayday in girl and boy, Most, O maid’s child, thy choice and worthy the winning. Lines Written in Early Spring I heard a thousand blended notes, While in a grove I sate reclined, In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts Bring sad thoughts to the mind. To her fair works did Nature link The human soul that through me ran; And much it grieved my heart to think What man has made of man. Through primrose tufts, in that green bower, The periwinkle trailed its wreaths; And ’tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes. The birds around me hopped and played, Their thoughts I cannot measure:— But the least motion which they made It seemed a thrill of pleasure. The budding twigs spread out their fan, To catch the breezy air; And I must think, do all I can, That there was pleasure there. If this belief from heaven be sent, If such be Nature’s holy plan, Have I not reason to lament What man has made of man? ~~ William Wordsworth Feurzauber I never knew the earth had so much gold— The fields run over with it, and this hill Hoary and old, Is young with buoyant blooms that flame and thrill. Such golden fires, such yellow—lo, how good This spendthrift world, and what a lavish God! This fringe of wood, Blazing with buttercup and goldenrod. You too, beloved, are changed. Again I see Your face grow mystical, as on that night You turned to me, And all the trembling world—and you—were white. Aye, you are touched; your singing lips grow dumb; The fields absorb you, color you entire . . . And you become A goddess standing in a world of fire! ~~~Louis Untermeyer Take a walk where ever you may be, breathe in the flowers and welcome Spring with your own poem. Have a happy Spring day, Tinker aka Judi Van Gorder I smile when the daffodils bloom, Spring's happy face. ~jvg
  15. JoelJosol

    No Paradise

    I wrote this while waiting for my wife on a favorite tourist spot island in the Philippines, Coron.
  16. JoelJosol

    No Paradise

    The beach sand is so soft my feet sank in them the way my body sinks in yours, the sun is golden this late hour and warm just like when you keep me in tight embrace. I wait for you here like the waves coming from the deep blue crashing here into white and light green, like your kisses. The sky is blue and cloudless, beyond are small boats and brown hills but there is no sight of you. Do come to me soonest, bring me good news for this is no paradise without you.
  17. tonyv

    Aesthetica

    Hi Phil, Though that is often the implication, I think what prompted me when it came to this poem was more a sense of non-judgemental fascination, perhaps even amusement. ^This. Expresses to some degree that aforementioned fascination/amusement. Though in my poem the speaker is not troubled, and neither is his subject, his model, his muse. I had not considered this lustrous/lustful contrast, and I like it. Yes, always there are these threads, though I much prefer enchantment ... so much so that I'll tend to overlook (or turn a blind eye toward) and ultimately succumb to delusion. Thank you very much for your kind reply. Tony
  18. badger11

    [PG: referential remark] Siblings

    Wow...splendid pic
  19. badger11

    Aesthetica

    Hi Tony, The closing lines, the focus on the cosmetic, led me to read deception/falseness. Alabaster brought Eliot to mind...or perhaps it is the juxtapostion of lustrous stars with the earthy lust of I'd still sweat her instead; In your poem, nearness/distance. the inner perception and the physical reality, disenchantment, enjoyed Phil
  20. tonyv

    Aesthetica

    Makes you feel like a teenager? That's good news! Thank you, Marti! Tony 😄
  21. dcmarti1

    [PG: referential remark] Siblings

    Here is a nice one with a cardinal:
  22. badger11

    Pontneddfechan 1973

    I once had to visit a number of churches in Aberystwyth for an essay - the Baptist was 'hell and damnation', but the congregation had a good voice in the singing! best Phil
  23. badger11

    Pontneddfechan 1973

    Thanks Tony. I'm too superstitious to watch Wicker Man! I was wondering if this was too local. Pleased it does translate. Phil
  24. badger11

    Stubborn

    Yes, I like that bit too Marti
  25. badger11

    Shoemaker

    Thank you very much Marti
  26. badger11

    [PG: referential remark] Siblings

    My ignorance Marti. I didn't know cardinals were birds. I do like the form. cheers Phil
  27. dcmarti1

    Aesthetica

    Actually arousing, just like "Venus and Adonis" & "The Pasasionate Shepherd" were for me at age 14. Like the skillful use of near rhyme. Crisp words, imagery.
  28. tonyv

    Aesthetica

    Considering her lay, I muse: If alabaster, jewels in an array, or stars in all their luster ever could compare, I'd still sweat her instead. So, till she draws me near (we party in her bed) her voice is in my head, an echo in my head. Aesthetica: my Botoxed sophisticate-profound.
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