Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Magpie Tales: Old House

from Magpie Tales

Old House

I'm so sorry we can't be friends,
Your arms reach out to block approach
Your mind flies in thunder to
protect a fragile life that could break.

This old house I used to love,
It gave us shelter, I remember,  
once upon a time.

© Gerry at Strummed Words

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Sunday, July 19, 2015

Magpie Tales: Snail

From Magpie Tales

It carries on its back the whorls,
the hopes of gamblers tossing dice,
hidden inside an enigma of chance. 

Dainty steps climb the ladder of the universe
moving outward and inward, closing in on itself.
A circle never finding its end. 

© Gerry at Strummed Words

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Sunday, February 8, 2015

Superhero Woman

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Action Figures by Edith Vonnegut
Superhero woman
The angels watch over you
in your flip flops,
dangling a vacuum machine,
tripping over your cat
and toys on the stairs.

You manage through your days
Your sanity intact
and your hair wild in exhaustion
as you cast a lingering look
at the flame of promise
tantalizing in a cherub's hand.


- Gerry at Strummed Words

Sunday, January 11, 2015

Magpie Tales: Shabby Blues



Fenced in all around
we hang our clothes away from prying eyes
our shabby blues showing only 
the perimeter of our experience.

-
Gerry at Strummed Words

Visit Magpie Tales for poetry and prose using the picture prompt.

Sunday, December 7, 2014

I Spy

photo by Elene Usdin


A spy, lying on the ground
She thinks I won't see her
As her eyes are so far down.

But I know who she is
She can't fool me,
Looking up my skirt

Talking in silent words
Of my face, my eyes, and
the hurt she hopes to see


Visit Magpie Tales for poetry and prose using the picture prompt.

Sunday, August 17, 2014

Ghost Ship

Yell Sound, Shetland, 2014, by R.A.D. Stainforth

Ghost Ship

A ghost ship sails the sea
harrowing into the future
with furled clouds for its cover.

Black eyes square and round, thin line of mouth,
its nostrils flare, white foams its stern
as it moves steadily forward,

like a dragon's head with its tail
curled curiously under the sea,
it challenges me...

© Gerry at Strummed Words

Visit Magpie Tales for poetry and prose using the picture prompt.

Sunday, June 22, 2014

Magpie Tales: Summer Dreaming

Visit Magpie Tales for poetry and prose using the picture prompt.

Sweet Summer, 1912, John William Waterhouse



SUMMER DREAMING

A fan of creased leaves, the murmur of water, fragrance
of flowers above my head and arms.
Sweet grass my bed, the warm sun my cover.

What strange fantasies wander through my mind
on these summer days free from distraction,
from the question of other eyes.

But I long for a long book, and the soft fur of a cat
on my arm as I drink in the pure air
of what could be a perfect poised day.

© Gerry at Strummed Words


Thursday, April 10, 2014

National Poetry Month: Gerard Manley Hopkins' "Spring and Fall: To a Young Child"


The 2014 National Poetry Month Blog Tour is hosted by Serena at Savvy Verse and Wit to celebrate poets and poetry in April. Let me share one of my favorite poems.

Spring and Fall
  by Gerard Manley Hopkins
              to a young child

Márgarét, áre you gríeving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leáves, like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! ás the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By and by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you will weep and know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sórrow's spríngs áre the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What heart heard of, ghost guessed:
It ís the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/16074#sthash.GsA1Cneo.dpuf

My thoughts: I fell in love with this short poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins when our English teacher introduced it to us in our first year in college. A published poet herself, she read it with such clarity and conviction and feeling that I felt I was able to understand Margaret and feel just as she did!

Margaret the young child has seen the renewal of spring and is just now realizing what autumn means, when the leaves turn golden and fall - the end of spring and summer, the end of life or of innocence. Hopkins turns this into a moral or insight into human nature and predicts that Margaret, in her youth, is just now seeing a side of life that she will become used to as she grows older, something that will cease to amaze or distress her as time passes.

What are your reactions to the poem and what do you take from it?
How do you respond to the rhythm and the rhyme of the lines?
Try reading it out loud for the full effect.


Born at Stratford, Essex, England, on July 28, 1844, Gerard Manley Hopkins is regarded as one the Victorian era's greatest poets. 

He was raised in a prosperous and artistic family. He attended Balliol College, Oxford, in 1863, where he studied Classics. In 1864, Hopkins first read John Henry Newman's Apologia pro via sua, which discussed the author's reasons for converting to Catholicism. Two years later, Newman himself received Hopkins into the Roman Catholic Church. Hopkins soon decided to become a priest himself, and in 1867 he entered a Jesuit novitiate near London. At that time, he vowed to "write no more...unless it were by the wish of my superiors." Hopkins burnt all of the poetry he had written to date and would not write poems again until 1875.

He spent nine years in training at various Jesuit houses throughout England. He was ordained in 1877 and for the next seven years carried his duties teaching and preaching in London, Oxford, Liverpool, Glasgow, and Stonyhurst. In 1875, Hopkins began to write again after a German ship, the Deutschland, was wrecked during a storm at the mouth of the Thames River. Many of the passengers, including five Franciscan nuns, died. Although conventional in theme, Hopkins poem "The Wreck of the Deutschland" introduced what Hopkins called "sprung rhythm." By not limiting the number of "slack" or unaccented syllables, Hopkins allowed for more flexibility in his lines and created new acoustic possibilities. In 1884, he became a professor of Greek at the Royal University College in Dublin. He died five years later from typhoid fever.

 Although his poems were never published during his lifetime, his friend poet Robert Bridges edited a volume of Hopkins' Poems that first appeared in 1918. In addition to developing new rhythmic effects, Hopkins was also very interested in ways of rejuvenating poetic language. He regularly placed familiar words into new and surprising contexts. He also often employed compound and unusual word combinations. As he wrote to in a letter to Bridges, "No doubt, my poetry errs on the side of oddness…" Twentieth century poets such as W.H. Auden, Dylan Thomas, and Charles Wright have enthusiastically turned to his work for its inventiveness and rich aural patterning. - See more at: http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/284#sthash.JeZaYNwR.dpuf

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Magpie Tales: Consolations

Visit Magpie Tales for poetry and prose using the picture prompt.

Feast in the House of Simon, 1610, El Greco 

Consolations

The consolations
where you sit at table
So far back in time and place,
an emerge 
in consciousness
to dizzy and defy,
this seating
side by side.


© Gerry at Strummed Words



Sunday, February 2, 2014

Piano Feet

Visit Magpie Tales for more poetry and prose using the picture prompt.




My toes find purchase on your keys
While I swing my arms, open to the breezes
of time that pass by in the sun's arc.

Tiptoeing around your curves,
the cure for a malaise throws itself
casually back to the skies, 

The dance goes on with the music
of an inner being playing with abandon
the notes of this curling time. 

© Gerry at Strummed Words

Sunday, December 29, 2013

Not a Selfie

Visit Magpie Tales for more poetry and prose using the picture prompt.


self-portrait, Francis Bacon 


Not a Selfie

The Pope takes selfies, or allows someone to take one 
with him smiling among the eager young.

Today you don't hide behind a camera but relish your face
among other faces 
for all to see.

You and me, we hide behind our masks
While we grin at our camera faces,
Selfies we show the world,
without really showing
who we pretend to be.

Wasn't it easy then, to snap someone else
while our faces are hidden
and expressions mute
behind an old camera face. 

© Gerry at Strummed Words

Sunday, December 8, 2013

Pre-Christmas

photo from The Guardian, Eyewitness

Clouds grey and cold
spawn birds in 
waning light on a colorless beach,
 wing flashes of
grey metal,
their wing winds cool on my fingers.

Graceful images
presage the warmer colors of Christmas. 


© Gerry at Strummed Words

Visit Magpie Tales for more poetry and prose using the picture prompt.

Sunday, December 1, 2013

Wings

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from Magpie Tales

Wings unfurl, then fold again,
A blossom opens to sudden sunlight
Its petals fall one by one,
Sundered by the season.

But this angelic dream lives on in
floating mists of memory that flash
intermittent but constant.

Her red lips mirror the images aloft
Her eyes see beyond the pale sky's
shimmering response.

© Gerry at Strummed Words

Saturday, October 5, 2013

Bleak Hill

photo by Mark Haley 


Rugged path, uneven steps
mark this dry bleak hill,

The cool air freshens my face
and quickens my breath,
a healthy walk
before the onslaught of welcome rain.

-Gerry@ Strummed Words


Visit Magpie Tales for more poetry and prose using the picture prompt.

Sunday, July 21, 2013

Immortal

painting by Andrew Wyeth 


A god, a thing of marble and stone,
wants to raise leg  and thigh over the seat
of the monster machine with its eye
like a moon piercing the night.
But he fears flesh, terror, a rush of
blood to brain and fever to brow.

Which immortal seeks to become a man
even for just a moment of speed,
high feelings, a chase on a thing of metal
and steel? When he can stand
forever stonelike and invincible,
standing tall over the land?


- Gerry @ Strummed Words

Visit Magpie Tales for more poetry and prose using the picture prompt.

Monday, June 10, 2013

Magpie Tales: My Locked Heart

Charleston Farmhouse Door 

A heart above a metal lock
beats on, knowing full well
there is no key and the lock
is broken.



-Gerry@ Strummed Words

Visit Magpie Tales for more poetry and prose using the picture prompt.

Sunday, June 2, 2013

A Conversation of Birds

Waking, Walking, Singing, in the Next Dimension? 1979 by Morris Graves

I have spoken to birds as a child, 
inviting them from their high perches
to land nearby where eyes
could see what my ears received, 
songs and messages that flew
through the air, its creators hidden in foliage
thick with green leaves of camouflage. 

And as an adult, I have heard them talk to me,
often in reprimand as in their dimension,
I rearranged their order and routine.
The poignancy of their sharp messages
of my flawed perceptions
was my genuine surprise.


- Gerry, Strummed Words

 Visit Magpie Tales for more poetry and prose using the picture prompt.

Monday, May 20, 2013

The Conscientious Gardener

Lighthouse Dandelions by Jamie Wyeth 
  

A sea of dandelion starfish
 crawl on blades of green glass
and shine before the crisp silver blade
of the conscientious gardener.



- Gerry, Strummed Words

Visit Magpie Tales for more poetry and prose using the picture prompt.

Sunday, May 5, 2013

The Other Side

Young Woman Picking the Fruit of Knowledge, 1892 by Mary Cassatt

'Neath stirring apple blossoms

I come to find my true self,

The other face of my coin.



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Monday, April 8, 2013

Night Moves

Woman With a Towel, 1898, Edgar Degas 



Night Moves

I am moved by silence and the quiet
night that brings no sleep.
In the shower, water gliding down
  arms and face,
A soft wrap of white around
my waist

prepare me for a feast
where I alone will dine.
A dash of pepper, cumin, oregano,
 rice wine and more
over long strings of transparency,
Noodles that shimmer sensuous
in a cradle of soup.

Refreshed and fed by
the silence of the night,
 After all this, I may sleep.


-Gerry@Strummed Words


Visit Magpie Tales for more poetry and prose using the picture prompt.
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