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FOR MRS. WHITMAN, a poem … and your Wednesday Writing Prompt

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you left one winter day to balancé on sunbeams
and pirouette on the moon, artfully swirling
lunar dust and scattering it over our dreams,
sparking our lives with memory and a love of
dance, a legacy of delight for tiny ballerinas ~
see us now, as well-worn as your old toe shoes

© 2012, poem, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved; Photo credit ~ pointe shoes by Lambtron via Wikipedia under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license

WRITING PROMPT

Genius might be the ability to say a profound thing in a simple way.” Charles Bukowski

Growing old, the only way to escape it is to die young and most of us wouldn’t opt for that given a choice.  Write a poem that juxtaposes and fond youthful memory with your current place in life.  See if you can do it in brief. Brevity often lends itself well to clarity and deeper emotion.

I encourage you to share your poem with me and with other readers.  Click on the Mister Linky icon below and enter you name and the link to your piece so that we may all read and enjoy. (Please DON’T enter the link to your blog. DO enter the link to the relevant post.) I’ll check back on this week’s Mister Linky for two weeks. You don’t need to link in something today if you’re not ready.

To read Renee Espiru’s poem in response to a Wednesday Writing Prompt link HERE.

BREATHLESS BETWEEN LANGUAGE & MYTH, a poem … and therein is your Wednesday writing prompt

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Here I am, suspended breathless
between language and myth.
Strands of undomesticated words
weave ladders to freedom, and

a dove in the stripy-barked birch
recites the works of Homer.
I found the rules of grammar
written on my tongue by the wind

and the alphabet strung like
seed-pearls around my willing neck.
Each day I take to the quarries,
hard mining for the sweetly lyrical,

blistered from digging in hot sands
and hard stone for parables.
The very walls that bound my heart
are fairly breached by the

gentle solace of poems spun
on a vision quest, on toiling
though the hill country of
my youthful and once indomitable

dreams: like dandelion fluff,
I blow them into history.
I write as though poetry is
the only real nourishment –
. . . . . .  .perhaps it is.

© 2016, poem, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved,  Photo ~ courtesy of morgueFile

WRITING PROMPT

Last month’s theme for The BeZine was: Rituals for Peace, Healing and Unity. Fittingly, Terri Stewart, our resident canoness, took the lead.

For some of us, our writing – whatever it may be – poetry, fiction, nonfiction, journaling – is our daily spiritual practice, a ritual of sorts, a way to heal and to connect with the best part of ourselves.

The inspiration for today’s writing prompt comes from my colleagues at the Zine:

Poet, essayist and vocalist, John Anstie, wrote “This poem represents the sentiment and spirit that is at the core of our mission here, Jamie, the Bardo/Beguine mission. ‘… as if poetry is the only real nourishment. Perhaps it is.’ Perhaps, at the same time, a call to the pen, rather than the sword, is also a source of nourishment that will yield, eventually, a harvest [of peace] for the world.”

Corina Ravenscraft, artist, poet, writer and activist, said “… poetry truly can be spiritual…”

Associate Pastor of Riverton United Methodist Church (Seattle, Washington), Rev. Terri Stewart, writer and founder of our sister site Beguine Again, wrote: “Digging for parables really echoes with what my experience is!”

How do you experience the practice of poetry or other art? Maybe you feel as our colleague – shamanic practitioner, psychotherapist, educator, and visual and theater artist – Michael Watson  does, that the “arts are the only real solace.”

In poem, story or creative nonfiction tell us about your personal creative rites and/or why you find consolation in them. Share your piece through Mister Linky … just click on the icon below and paste in the link to your piece so that I and other readers here might enjoy it.

Note: A link from one of my unrelated pieces might show up as the first post. It’s just left from another effort on a different site.  Tech challenged: I couldn’t remove it. Sigh! 😦

‘Twas All Hallows’ Eve, a poem

Thanks to my friend M. for the terrace decor.
Thanks to my friend M. for the terrace decor.

after Clement Clarke Moore‘sTwas the Night Before Christmas …

‘Twas All Hallows’ Eve, and all through the house
Every creature was stirring, even our pet mouse
Oh the pumpkins were carved with very great care
In the hope that trick-or-treaters soon would be there
The children were agitated, not one in her bed
As visions of sweet treats danced in their heads
Dad and I in our costumes and me with my cap
Had settled by the door listening for the first rap
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
We sprang to our feet to check on the matter
We threw open our door to offer sweet stash
While witches flew by, all glitter and flash
And the moon on the rise and the dark ground below
Gave lustre and bluster to ghosts on the go
And then what to our startled eyes should appear,
But a miniature ballerina among goblins, one bear
Now, Alice! Now Ernie! Now Jimmy! Now Chris!
Come little Tony, big Brandy and Trish
To the top of the stairs, don’t any one fall …
Now dash away dash away dash away all

Happy Halloween to all who celebrate! xo

And that’s it for my contribution to Halloween this year! Wishing you many sweets and no cavities. 

©2010, poem and photograph, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved

Gentlemen of the Old School, poem

The Madonna in Sorrow Giovanni Battista Salvi (1609-1685)
The Madonna in Sorrow
Giovanni Battista Salvi
(1609-1685)

gentlemen of the old school
those devotees of Mary …
Mother of Christ, Handmaid of the Lord
seeing her in every woman
….. generously
even me – daughter, mother, niece, friend –
protagonist, antagonist,
on-again off-again wife
simmering slowly in the broth of the cosmos
never quite done, never quite done
…..but they were …
………they were
gentlemen of the old school

dedicated to the real men in my life from whom you will not hear “locker room” talk

© 2013, poem, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved Photo ~ via Wikipedia and in the U.S. Public Domain