from the shadow of the moon, a poem …and your Wednesday Writing Prompt
My apologies. When I logged in this a.m. I saw that I accidentally scheduled two prompts today. I’m leaving them both up since poets have started responding. 😦 At any rate, if you want to participate – and I hope you do – please feel free to do so for both if so inclined. Thank you!
.
like lucid dreaming, like light-infused rain drops and
the untarnished silver stars above country terrain,
my mother calls to me from the shadow of the moon
my father beams his smile at me from the milky way
gone and gone, still their essence scents my nights
©2013, poem and photograph, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved
WEDNESDAY WRITING PROMPT
Have there been people in your life that you don’t loose no matter what? Perhaps people like parents who are so much a part of you, you seem to sense their presence even after they have died. How good is that? Or, maybe you don’t think it is. Tell us about it in poem or prose. If you feel comfortable, put the link to the piece in the comments section below … or, if it’s short enough, you can just share the piece there. Work shared will be featured on The Poet by Day next Tuesday.
The recommended read for this week is A Little Book on Form: An Exploration into Formal Imagination of Poetry by Robert Hass (b. 1941), an American poet who was our Poet Laureate of the United States from 1995 to 1997. He won the 2007 National Book Awardand shared the 2008 Pulitzer Prize for the collection Time and Materials: Poems 1997-2005. In 2014 he was awarded the Wallace Stevens Award from the Academy of American Poets.
In A Little Book on Form: An Exploration into Formal Imagination of Poetry Hass brings to bear the same senisbility that marks his poetry with force, clarity and eloquence. From Rome in the time of Caesar to the Renaissance and our own times, Hass breaks down poetry, examining its components from a postmodern perspective. The book is ranging and intense. It’s over four-hundred pages – informed, witty, erudite – something we can go back to again and again. Never a boring moment. It’s all about love.
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by Getchen Del Rio
Enjoying New Toy
In new house
haunted . This is something that I live with a lot, not really being able to say good y completely.
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[Even as I know that you prefer poems be not of rhyme 😉]
Friendship
beacon
anchor
mirror
prop
my “you can do it”
and my trusted counsel: “stop!”
mi casa es su casa
as like family, you know you are
we share
we dare
we fight
we cry
we laugh
we scamp
we stride into the world
as lamps
and, whether it’s together
or by miles apart
always
the love of friendship is
a gift of courage
to the mind and in the heart
https://julijuxtaposed.wordpress.com/2014/08/18/friendship/
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Oh, Juli! Very dear. xo
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Let no one say that I take no risks 😉 xXx
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Thank you, Jamie. This is something that I live with a lot, not really being able to say good y completely. Thanks for appreciating that. Here is something I wrote a little while back thinking of my grandfather.
https://5h2o.wordpress.com/?s=lantern&submit=Search
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Hi Jamie! Like the prompt and your poem. I am putting in a link to this one to one I wrote in 2013. My mom has been gone 9yrs now but I often times write something when I remember her. https://reneejustturtleflight.com/2013/06/19/lavender-whippoorwills
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Thank you for the prompt, Jamie. Until an hour ago, I never thought I’d find words for my sister, seventeen years later.
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Ah, I wondered who it was. So very touching. I’m glad you found your voice in this. I take it an older sister – “boss” …
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Yes, older, but only three years older.
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https://poetjanstie.wordpress.com/2017/04/12/on-one-of-my-tomorrows/
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Lovely! Responded on your blog.
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Thanks Jamie. Here is the result of this writing prompt.
. haunted .
a meditation on thread,
mediation of red, i dream
of you.
clearly your clothes remain
the same, worn, washed,
pressed.
your ideas come different, you
talk of immersion,
and security, nothing was
further from my mind.
the moon came early
a different window.
this does not mean i
have time,
i will be sewing.
i have made notes and numbers,
pinned it to the wall.
sbm.
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Oh, lovely. Perfect. See it here next Tuesday unless for some reason that doesn’t work for you. Thank you for participating.
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Here is my response to today’s prompt, Jamie:
My Late Mam Still Spring Clean
“I couldn’t live at your mam’s
It’s like a show house. Spotless.”
One of my girlfriends says.
And the gusts over mam’s grave,
brush the winter debris away,
quick sprays of spring rain
coat her surface as dead leaf
and blown bud dusters polish
the Yorkshire stone black letters
to a shine, feed the vase of flowers
whose heads move towards the sun.
Paul Brookes
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Immmensley touching, Paul. Bravo! See it here next Tuesday. Thanks for participating.
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