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Found 46 results

  1. #18 Poem a Day Ball Player The Dodgers first to integrate, cross color lines with much debate. A black boy with the temperament to play through bigotted excrement with talent, poise and tolerance while white folk kept on hollerance. Jackie Robinson, number 42 known to steal a base or two made his point upon the field with steel that would not yield and a will they could not tame. All for the love of the game. ---------------- ---Judi Van Gorder
  2. Work Week Blast in a crowd leaves destruction meant to last. City brought to halt for manhunt without pity Taut work week ends with one suspect dead, one caught. Two lives can never pay back what is due. Tears of fear end in grateful cheers. Why? is the lonely cry. -------- --Judi Van Gorder Playing with head and tail rhyme.
  3. Sorry It's Sunday Sometimes it takes clawing and scraping to find inspiration to write a poem daily. Sunday is easy, I choose at least this day of the week to listen to my God through His Word. "We are His people, the sheep of his flock." this week the people are defined, "from every nation, race, people, and tongue." Why can't the heads of His church hear His Words? Why can't the heads of His church listen to their own words? ------------------------------------------- ---Judi Van Gorder Vatican II Chapter II The People of God L1 "At all times and in every race, anyone who fears God and does what is right has been acceptable to Him." I just wanted to write a simple poem from my meditation of the Sunday scripture. But that keeps coming back to a subject bothering me for a few months.
  4. Remind Me Again? Blankly I make small talk seeking a signal, a trigger. "Yes I walk the trail at lunch." Who is this guy? He knows my habits but who? No clue. He thanks me, he took my advise, "Sure, glad I could help." (What advise?) "Oh yes, on the house," "Spell the last name for me?" S-m-i-t-h (shoot me now) "on Green Valley? ". . . "Appleblossom Lane, sorry I hit the wrong key." "Thanks Paul, say hi to Marge for me." ---------------------- ---Judi Van Gorder
  5. Pressure Cooker I remember my Mom cooking stews in her pressure cooker and I got mine as a wedding gift along with a meat grinder and flour sifter now all relegated to the back of the cupboard. I have to admit I was a little afraid of my cooker I watched like a hawk while that round weight on top rocked back and forth just waiting for it to blow. So now that same kitchen basic makes headlines I guess I was right to fear it it seems it is the perfect host to send nails and ball bearings into the legs and guts of unsuspecting passers bye. -------------------- ---Judi Van Gorder More Boston Marathon Bombing poems see Frank's Marathon by Frank E Gibbard or my marathon haikus or April 15
  6. Tinker

    April 15 #15 Poem a Day

    April 15 So it's here a day off from the office a cool breeze blows off the ocean a sparrow hops onto my stepping stone a single white rose blooms a poem is whirling in my head a cup of coffee sits steaming on my desk a text from my son saying "'morning Mom" and Oh Yeah..... the deadline for filing 2012 taxes and two bombs explode at Boston Marathon. ------------------- --~~ Judi Van Gorder
  7. Day Thirteen April's thirty day search for my muse to make a daily offering by placing pen on paper and write of familiar places, intriguing faces, in simple phrases, to invoke a reader's response whether noted or not, sometimes draws a blank. This is all I have to give today ------- ---jvg
  8. Haibun Cherry Blossoms In a front corner of my garden are two trees, a Weeping Cherry and a Fuji Apple. Cherries grow well here in individual gardens but it is apple orchards that have supported our local farmers for decades. This morning I went out into my garden to observe the traditional symbol of Spring and be inspired to write a cherry blossom haiku. The cherry blooms had already faded, with only a few fragile almost ethereal blossoms left while to the right the apple tree was in full-bloom, vibrant and renewed by Spring. I felt rooted to my community. cherry blossoms pale as death next to Spring's pink blush on my apple tree ~ ~ ~ jvg
  9. Frank E Gibbard

    A variation on a haiku (my NPM#7)

    I went up the road Saw a bunch of strange people Addressed them "oh hi queue"
  10. Frank E Gibbard

    That Girl (NPM 10)

    Exotic location the girl, an ocean ozone, a waft of suntan lotion. She is walking men are gawking, eyes appraise a body born for warming rays. Hypnotic hips go swaying, her sashaying along the beach. Pink lips part as if she sips a succulent peach. Some males think, was that a wink? Imagination does its wishful thing that and man's fatal fascination. A bossa nova's playing over and over a figment from Ipanema is fading, samba sounds are still pervading so all that remains sax and marimba refrains and a final ... ah.
  11. Spring Awakening Tight, timid buds hold close to winter bared branches, not quite ready to wake to the springtime sun while bolder blossoms are refreshed by random drops of the morning rain. Beginning bursts of reds and golds spring from rich deep greens joined by more subtle hues of purples and pinks. Last night's call saying you were coming home, all promises of renewal fluttering in the April breeze. ------------- ---Judi Van Gorder Inspired by the French Reverdie
  12. Shift Change Hard hats and sediment-smudged cheeks move with a passing nod to and from the smoke stained brick compound where they labor for their family’s roof and supper. Rolling waves of inky smut sift from commercial chimneys to be sucked into the pulsing pink organs of its citizens before drifting into the clouds. Consumers supplied, profits partitioned, labor exploited and the universe ignored. -------------- ~~Judi Van Gorder
  13. For All You Poets Out There I never thought to stifle an image thought an eye full; I admire a winker thinker who may compose a stinker but still attempts to tinker with words so wondrous inciting thoughts so thunderous inspiring poets under us, it merits making a fuss. --------------- --Judi Van Gorder
  14. The Return of the Doe I From the far side of the fence she looked at me still as stone, silent as air, not a flinch, her nut brown coat in contrast with the lush spring grass where in summer she would blend. Deep as the forest her lashed eyes were alert and wide in wonder. Belly swollen she had come home to birth. She looked at me. Her gaze locked with mine. “I know! I’m a Mom too,” my heart cried, “but I still can’t let you in.” Ears lifted and seemed to hear my silent words, she looked at me then slowly began to graze. II At the edge of the meadow she appeared and approached the fence knowing I stood near. Almost disguised by the brown grass of summer twin spotted fawns stood like stone waiting for a signal from their mother. As if she had brought her babes for me to see she looked at me, I smiled then she twitched her ear and they disappeared. III Once her haven from a harsh world, now denied her, this early Spring the doe returned with her young and trespassed. She slipped inside through an open gate. Unnoticed, they chose a place to graze. Unaware of the uninvited guests I turned my dogs loose for a run, my wolf dog and his kennel mate. Within seconds the young deer fled and hurdled the downhill fence while the doe was spotted, stalked, and cornered. The dogs approached from opposite directions without hesitation they attacked. She was brought to her knees, then to the ground as fangs tore at her throat and her hide was savagely ripped from the back of her neck to the base of her spine. Hoe in hand, screaming ignored commands I pulled the snarling, blood spattered dogs from the downed deer and kenneled them. The pain crazed doe looked at me then rose and charged the kennel. Razor sharp hooves slashed forward while her hide flapped behind her like a cape. but her injuries soon defeated her and she took off into the woods I looked for her. - - - Judi Van Gorder
  15. Tinker

    Scarlet #10 Poem a Day

    Scarlet Our secret slumbers deep as the scarlet of a rose, wrapped in the velvet cloak of time. What was but could not be remains hidden beneath cultivated soil. Yet memories of stolen moments past ignite white-hot in flushed dreams still. ----- -- Judi Van Gorder 1
  16. #6 Poem a Day In the Trenches Thoughts quickly scribbled on the back of an envelope, a barrage of tenets attack the plain. An attempt to capture a simple construct, a voice. Words rethought fall victim to the slashing pen, silent chatter discarded, bound characters boldly replace the fallen symbols to shape ideas into verse. A battleground, blotched and torn, valued as much for what is lost, as for what is gained. -----------Judi Van Gorder I did write two new poems for today but they were just a haiku #46 guns & daisies and an example Minute Poem, Mission For the Queen. They adhere to form and I thought this revised poem would be better to post for today's Poem the Day offering. ~~Tink
  17. #4 Poem a Day for US National Poetry Month April Showers, How Cliché of Her April is doing her thing today. On a morning that promised sunshine and flowers she instead sends raindrops and puddles. The challenge ------ is to make poetry from drizzle ---------- with just a little bit of sizzle. Now who could resist that rhyme when I'm desperate to write something less trite than a tome sent from home that won't fizzle. ------------------~~Judi Van Gorder
  18. Frank E Gibbard

    On using my loaf (NPM#6)

    I found my loaf annoying, Its slices disintegrated in the hand - not very handy, and useless making toast. It spoiled my enjoying one usual conveniance that I'm used to. I cursed a shoddy purchase. It seemed a blot on my day, a bloody ruddy nuisance, wait till I see that baker and won't I complain? I didn't as it went, no good reason to vent. As from this I recoiled, for aren't we just too spoiled? There's hungry mouths without holed bread you pampered dunderhead! Moan less, more comprehend, I'll not be so half-baked again. I hope rather to use my darn loaf and that's a solemn oath.
  19. # 5 Poem a Day for US National Poetry Month Legacy Looking into the sleeping face of a newborn it is hard to dwell on the topic of death. Cherry cheeks are a far contrast from the drained pallor of one passed. Death gouges at the gut, one withers and another gone without goodbye. They return through the tilt of an infant's eyes, or familiar long fingers that clasp Grandma's thumb. ~~ Judi Van Gorder
  20. #3 US National Poetry Month is April, Poets challenged to write one poem a day for the month of April. A moment before sleep This early April sky, grey darkened by night, moistened by recent rain and cooled by a north wind, invites me to lower my lids and drift into the starlight that prinks its plain. ---------- ~~ Judi Van Gorder
  21. April is US National Poetry Month. Some sites are calling for a poem a day for the 30 day month. Since I am just finding this today I'm are already a day behind. ~~Tink My Attempts below: #1 April 2, 2013 haiku journal #42 #2 April 2, 2013 haiku journal #43 #3 April 3, 2013 A moment before sleep #4 April 4, 2013 April Showers, How Cliche of Her #5 April 5, 2013 Legacy #6 April 6, 2013 haiku journal #46 ; In the Trenches(a revision) and Minute Poem, Mission For the Queen. #7 April 7, 2013 haiku journal #47 ; [A revision of Part III Return of the Doe and Kimo My Dog Angel #8 April 8, 2013 Spring's Awakening #9 April 9, 2013 haiku journal #48 and Shift Change #10 April 10, 2013Scarlet #11 April 11, 2013 For All You Poets Out There #12 April 12, 2013 Cherry Blossoms #13 April 13, 2013 Day Thirteen #14 April 14, 2013 Feed My Sheep #15 April 15, 2013 April 15 #16 April 16, 2013 marathon runner haiku #17 April 17, 2013 Pressure Cooker #18 April 18, 2013 Ball Player #19 April 19, 2013 Remind Me Again? #20 April 20, 2013 Work Week #21 April 21, 2013 Sorry it's Sunday #22 April 22, 2013 Synergy #23 April 23, 2013 Mac Adoo's Wings #24 April 24, 2013 Warning #25 April 25, 2013 Scab #26 April 26, 2013 Sport of Kings #27 April 27, 2013 The Path a rewrite of a 10 year old poem. #28 April 28, 2013 Empty Moment #29 April 29, 2013 Me, the Condensed Version #30 April 30, 2013 Thirty Days I did it! Sorry to all for flooding the board with daily poems, some better than others. Thank you to all who took the time to read and comment on my works. ~~Tink
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