I waged His wars, and now I pass and die.
O me! for why is all around us here
As if some lesser god had made the world …
Alfred Lord Tennyson, Idylls of the King
i always come back to the sea ~
in the winter when gardens lay waste
and the contemplative time is upon us
and in summer, languid and color crazy
no matter the season, she shines
self-confident
decked-out in sunlighted spray
tossing her waves into wild arabesque
roaring her traveling chants
no reluctant tourist, the sea
the eternal sea,
in the power of her isness
she mocks me
marks me as the lesser being
of a lesser god
© 2016, poem, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved; Photo courtesy of morgueFile
WEDNESDAY WRITING PROMPT
Sometimes in the face of nature’s magnificence, I really do feel as though I might be the child of a lesser god, though goodness knows we humans are as much beauty and miracle as any other manifestation of that creative energy, called by many “God.” When, how, where have you felt like a lesser being … in the face of what? Tell us in your own poem/s and share them or a link to it/them in the comments section below.
All poems shared on theme will be published next Tuesday. Please do NOT email your poem to me or leave it on Facebook.
IF this is your first time participating in The Poet by Day, Wednesday Writing Prompt, please send a brief bio and photo to me at thepoetbyday@gmail.com in order to introduce yourself to the community … and to me :-). These will be partnered with your poem/s on first publication.
Deadline: Monday, June 18 at 8 p.m. PDT.
Anyone may take part Wednesday Writing Prompt, no matter the status of your career: novice, emerging or pro. It’s about exercising the poetic muscle, sharing your work, and getting to know other poets who might be new to you. This is a discerning nonjudgemental place to connect.
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Here is my response. It’s my first time and I’ll email you tonight. https://docs.google.com/document/d/1TNBUvU8gVKUjSP-SWgFs-aJAFUrfMOHis3ltR7M7thk/edit?usp=sharing
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Death’s Immensity
Stand next to one wall, let’s say
the north side, of a massive
building. Look up into the
sky, noticing only a
few puffs of clouds. Sweep your eyes
back down, catching sight of this
wall — gray, smooth, unending — and
recall it.
Instantly, the personal fantasy of
existence disintegrates,
leaving only wisps. Lungs
empty,
breath sucked away.
Only flatness,
a loss of all
color and detail.
Once again,
know Death
and be
paralyzed.
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Thank you, Carol. Your first time with us. 👏 Don’t forget to email a bio and photo. thepoetbyday@gmail.com.
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HOMAGE
The day did not start well. Dave nearly
broached the yacht and Dave ( the other one)
down in the galley was dodging pots
and flying pans. Order and sanity
restored we headed out, that Scottish dawn,
to journey to the Outer Hebrides.
The sea, quiet at first
began to grow usurping sky, piling
higher than the mast, bearing us up
then down into its trough. We held our breath,
feeble in its undulating rhythm,
poised in fear of the breaking, overwhelming
crests, in silent prayer. But we climbed smooth
and fell again, learning to work with
the water’s pulse and flow.
My father would have
smiled at this. Wartime convoy service,
Arctic and Atlantic, torpedoed nearly
to extinction. He only spoke about
it once. It was enough.
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Hi Jamie –
my lesser than poem:
Least of These
I find myself
in losing self
amid the grander
moments in creation
for why would I
settle as the larger
of the lesser
among so little
grant me the serenity
to seek the enormity
of a great God’s creativity
lesser me at the edge
of Grand Canyon’s
cragged colors
lesser me in the depths
and breadths
of roaring oceans
lesser me in the wonders
of rainbows and cloud banks
snowstorms and tornados
lesser me counted
as one of millions
stars and galaxies
never am I so grand
as when the Grandest
includes in His resume
the lesser me.
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Very nice and eloquent.
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Lovely poem, Jamie. I like the personification and feminisation of the sea and her self-confidence, something I often lacked as a child. Now it is better, but I have friends who need help in this. I think I wrote this poem for a special friend but also for myself and for everybody: https://momentsbloc.wordpress.com/2016/06/14/confidence/
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secondly then time to write more
https://sonjabenskinmesher.wordpress.com/2017/01/25/bad-night-dreaming/
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Thanks Jamie
My first response today ~
https://sonjabenskinmesher.wordpress.com/2014/05/14/the-robe/
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Your poem is really good, especially the line “tossing her waves into wild arabesque”. I might put a link to one of my own poems on the subject here soon.
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I look forward to reading.
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Hi Jamie,
Here’s my second response:
Gust Is Deaf, Hills Are Blind,
trees can’t walk properly,
Flowers twitch haphazardly.
Grass is mute, rivers are dumb.
Nature is differently abled.
Mountains are too tall,
struggle to talk when they can’t
bend a knee, get down to those smaller
who are in awe when all mountains need
is to speak face to face , dispel their myth.
Same with water that rushes by,
no time to stand and stare, moments pass
before they have time to fully comprehend.
Flux needs a still moment but has to go on.
Still waters wish they could rush.
All hankers after what it Is not,
Cannot accept their place as their lot.
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Hi Jamie,
Here’s my first response:
My god is
Imperfect, a perfect image for me.
Humbled by its mistakes.
My god is a mistake.
A wrong answer,
Differently abled.
Its winters often in spring.
Its summers sometime in autumn.
My god is a fracture, a flaw.
Gender fluid. Defined by its
Inhumanity, it is complete
in its incompleteness. Aspires
not to aspire. My god is contradiction,
counter intuitive. Fresh in its decay.
Its more is always less. Thank god.
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❤️
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