Lady of the lake….
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We loved the weeping willows trees by the lake, we loved the month of July and August. Once I wanted death and my lady of the lake, whispered a sweet song to me.
“Do words matter?
What are we?
Maybe we are just, here for a second,
maybe we are just dancers upon the wind,
waiting for a reason to be alive.
Dear Poet,
dance with me near the weeping willow tree,
Lets, become like the free and wild dandelions,
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O so sweet, O so soft…
My dearest miracle, I was alone till you blessed me with your sweet kiss and your gentle voice. Once I asked you. Would you, could you, love me? You whispered. After 50 years of, O so sweet, O so soft, we shall know, promises made are meaningless, lover’s meet, lover’s dance and lover’s learn. Time together is the proof of lover’s wisp.
I do love you.
Dancing Coyote
Every time I teach Creative Writing: Poetry to college students, I spend some time going over how to submit poems for publication, and then they send out two batches of poems to different literary …
Source: 5 Steps to Poetry Publication – guest post by Katie Manning – Trish Hopkinson
Don’t Miss This!!
A Poem by Coyote Poetry
Love can break you down and leave you empty and alone.
The storm…
Love can be like a gentle rain and
love can be like a thunderstorm to the heart.
A fall day in 1984. A auburn hair beauty came to my door with six wine coolers
and a smile. Requested to join me in my apartment.
She told me she broke-up with her boyfriend and needed company.
I invited her in and she removed her coat.
Showing me long tan legs and a perfect young body.
Her short skirt left me dreaming of thing I shouldn’t have.
Sweet Jennifer had great dreams. She was going to be a designer of clothing.
She loved to dance and laugh. She was barely 19 years old.
I was not old in age. Just old in spirit. I was just tire and accepted my…
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Don’t Miss This Beautiful Tribute to Sue!!
Cherry blossoms lead the Spring parade. Along with flowering pear, and redbuds they provide a glorious silhouette against the deep blue sky. I took this photo in my neighborhood this morning. Cherry blossoms are a great symbol of new life and light as we lead into Easter this coming weekend.
Cherry blossoms shine
Painting warm soft spring snowflakes
Soon wrapped in deep green
At d’Verse, Frank asked us to write our Monday Haibun on the theme of cherry blossoms. I waited to post till today so I could show you the beautiful cherry blossoms I see as I pass in and out of my neighborhood.
Join us at: https://dverse poets.com
Reliving Memories!
Laundry on the line
For all the world to see
Basking in sunlight
Fresh sheets blowing in the wind
A fresh smell like no other
*
Clothes from the washer
Suds squeezed out through the ringer
Woman’s work back then
Monday morning wash day
Life’s simple routine repeated
*
Wicker basket filled
Undies just hung on the line
Wooden clothes pins tight
No one then gave it a thought
Whether the neighbors saw them
*
Phosphate soap bubbles
Tide will always get them clean
Good fresh smells linger
Dry clothes pressed on ironing board
Folded put up by supper
Photo: Dwight L. Roth
At d’Verse this evening, De asked us to write a poem about laundry! I grew up in the days when clothes were washed in a ringer washer and washtubs, hung on the line outside with wooden clothes pins, and ironed on an ironing board in the…
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Honey, let me tell you what your eyes refuse to see
When I smile at the man who dares touch my skin,
All my insides turn upside down
My ribcage strain to hold out anger
My chest is empty of breaths and full of violence
A curse has latched itself into my bones ─
It peels. It burns.
Beyond my Cheshire smile is a war
Between words I want to say and the world that won’t let me
My heathen tongue is shut by the thing that you call “joke”
So I bite down a wrathful scream
Swallow a coil of sorrow,
Bury it deep in a mass grave of apologies
For being a woman who can’t fight.
Honey, you see ─ or perhaps you don’t
There is no safe place my kind
Against the devil and you, the accessory to the crime
Who thinks a touch,
A tap,
A…
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At dVerse Frank is hosting Haibun with an invitation to write about cherry blossoms.
dVerse Poets – Haibun – Cherry Blossoms
“To find yourself, think for yourself.” Socrates
Come Join Me Going to hell in a handcart seems infinitely better than joining with the elite ignorance of those who presume they're on for a visit to the angel bar in the ether. How can it be that we tolerate the essence of ego over integrity, where is the authentic one, where the grounded reality? How is it that we have put a gun to the head of community, in pursuit of self-indulgence? Of course, it is infinitely more valid if we charge a small fortune for courses that enable wrong choices to look like someone else, someone who knows the mantra. Surely it is time to self-prune, to take stock and account for the present…
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And then,
There was a window,
A window that extended into life,
The wide blue sky with limitless possibilities...
Shut by the stereotypes for long,
Her courage just never made it to the other side of the window.
Now,
Finally out of the
Cloudy dawns,
&
The Gloomy dusks,
She has collected herself,
To fly in the sky of life!
The Reluctant Poet 