Jump to content
Poetry Magnum Opus

Search the Community

Showing results for tags 'poem a day'.



More search options

  • Search By Tags

    Type tags separated by commas.
  • Search By Author

Content Type


Blogs

There are no results to display.

There are no results to display.

Forums

  • Poetry
    • Member Poetry
    • Member Poetry (overflow)
    • Promotions
    • Member Archive
  • Reference Section
    • Tools
    • Explore the Craft of Writing Poetry
    • Misc. Reference Material
  • Special Interest
    • Poetry Playground
    • Workshop
    • PMO Audio
    • World Poetry
  • Prose and Longer Poetic Works
    • The Prose Forum
    • Longer Poetic Works
  • Reading
    • A Poem I Read Today
    • Favorite Poets
  • General
    • General Discussion
    • Literary Discussion
    • Articles
  • Art
    • Art - General Discussion
    • Photography, Drawing, and Painting
  • Welcome
    • Site Welcome, Philosophy, and Rules
  • PMO Community Matters ***MEMBERS ONLY***'s Feature Requests
  • PMO Community Matters ***MEMBERS ONLY***'s Special Requests
  • PMO Community Matters ***MEMBERS ONLY***'s How-to
  • PMO Community Matters ***MEMBERS ONLY***'s Visions for the Site

Find results in...

Find results that contain...


Date Created

  • Start

    End


Last Updated

  • Start

    End


Filter by number of...

Found 8 results

  1. Weeds In My Garden Sunday, the sun made a visit, the air was washed and I spent much of the day outside, pulling weeds. I sit, I don't kneel anymore, God doesn't ask my body to be humble, just my heart, besides, there's nothing more humbling than arthritic knees and a body getting old. The weeds pulled up easily, the earth was soft, it had rained the previous three days. I filled my lungs with unblemished air, the ocean breeze cooled my skin, while sweat seeped from my pores from the Spring sun's zeal. Nature renews, I keep getting older and there are always weeds to be pulled. ~~ Judi Van Gorder
  2. Frank E Gibbard

    "POEMS" (an acrostic)

    pensive offerings expressing my sensibilities
  3. Frank E Gibbard

    Running Dog (R) (NPM 17)

    Running Dog massaged his tanned body stood tepee high looked at his wiry frame reflected in a glass, caressed the cheeks of a wholly proud plains bred Native arse. Young and athletic his muscularity honed and bronzed by the sun of Oregon. Sweet oils ran down his burnished thighs in yellow rivulets drips easing inside toes of mahogany brown and weariness of recently worked feet. Running Dog was a true brave you could say, without reservation, in the whitemens' badlands today had given his stack to the contact known as "ill-eagle" for his toke, now is time for R & R, high time to make smoke. When Running Dog was dog tired his solution: peace in communion with a pipe then hit town for buffalo wings mm.. (not ashamed he loved them) for the munchies. He towels his abs dry with little dabs, eyes the waiting stash, wonders what father Sitting Dog would think knowing how he spends his cash. He liked to think that Pop would not blink nor sniff at a little spliff, imagined him there in his favourite chair blowing marijuana all around as he exclaims that since I came it's the best shit I've found ever in the Gods' hunting ground. Floor walking in their casino then pumping iron, squat-thrusts fit to bust - how he maintained his toned native appearance front of house thrilling old ladies (ooh you look so Indian!) boy did he need a smoke and we are talking a mother lode of Nature's best. He gave utter respect into this habit, was like his tribe the first greens, and cool with the planet. Brave he was indeed he still had to watch out for palefaces in blue uniforms riding around after our hides. Ha! braves making smoke America's Finest seeking scalps in the name of a so-called freedom, he hoped his ancestors might see the joke. Signalling nothing ever changes in our history except the particular cause of a panic it rearranges those deck chairs on the SS Titanic.  
  4. 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.
  5. 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
  6. 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"
  7. 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.
  8. 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
×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Guidelines.