Each day I so wanted

   Each day I so wanted to 
  hold your little hand in mine
and soon get done what you would
  want of me. So, I came by,
 and without much hope, to ask
(beg) for you to marry me.
  We said, "I do," soon after.

Carry On Tuesday #107
"So little done, so much to do." - last words of Cecil Rhodes in 1902
I kinda like the 7 lines with 7 syllables.
For some reason, Carry On Tuesday prompts seem to make lovely acrostic type poems. 

Naked Tree Haiku

girl shows a small grin
jumble of leaves at its feet
leave the tree naked


Three Word Wednesday CCXLII
grin, jumble, naked

Daily Divine

What if God was one us:
would you see the divine
in your daily life?

Just a slob like one us:
would you think less
because of the mess?

Just a stranger on a bus:
would you offer your seat
to rest weary feet?

Trying to make his way home:
seek out the divine
in every life.


Part of Carry On Tuesday 106
Lines from Joan Osbourne's "One of Us?"

Sketching

If you've got an image 
in front of you, or
in your mind.
The real trick is
getting it out,
and on paper.

A curve here.
A few short lines there,
maybe a little longer.
Add some texture,
a few details.

It never looks quite right.
The image is always elusive.
Keep trying.
Keep practicing.
You'll never be perfect,
but that's ok.


Part of Jingle Poetry Potluck Week 36

Honors and Appreciation

Earthen Fort Visit was chosen as Poem of the Week by Luna on Jingle Poetry! I'm so proud, very excited, and a bit surprised. Of course, I'm also honored and humbled. Thank you so much!

I've been enjoying participating in Jingle Poetry's weekly Poetry Potlucks for a few weeks now, and I've loved meeting and reading new poets. Hanging out on this blog also led me to Carry On Tuesday, Three Word Wednesday, and Thursday Poets' Rally from Promising Poets Parking Lot.

I started writing poetry when I was a kid, as part of some English class in elementary school. It's always been something I've enjoyed, but I had put it down for a long time due to being busy and feeling uncreative. I'm glad I started up a blog for National Poetry Writing Month. 

When I started my blog, I didn't really think I'd have very many followers or get many readers outside of my family and friends. Mostly, it was a way to feel more accountable for writing a poem every day during the month. I've been pleasantly surprised, honored, and overjoyed by all the positive attention, the new and interesting poetry, and being part of online poetry communities.

I'm so glad that my writings are enjoyed by others and that I've been able to share them with other artists. Thank you to everyone who has read, commented on, and enjoyed any of my poetry.

Jess

Skid Marks

She burst onto the scene 
of my life
bringing adventure,
joy,
love.
She left just as quickly, 
leaving skid marks 
across my heart.
Black marks 
that I fear will never fade.

Thinking of her body,
her joviality,
our exploits,
my face becomes damp with tears
and my heartbeat is dampened 
by sadness.

I try to be incensed,
to have fire in my heart,
but no such emotion can emerge
from the melancholy 
which has taken up residence 
in my soul.

 


Part of Three Word Wednesday CCXLI
Damp, incensed, skid

Collection of Horoscopes

Equilibrium is
not that valuable.
Stylish lopsidedness and the 
beauty of irregularity display
incongruous details that
reveal fresh, hot truths.
So-called flaws are to be celebrated.
Lucky accidents are serendipity.


"Imagine greatness in others," says the man
not renowned for his optimism.
Activate your own dormant greatness and
fantasize aggressively.


The income gap is
absurdly grotesquely humongous.
Raise your voice against this inequity.
Discrepancy exists
in your own personal sphere.
Immediate effect in the immediate area.
Rich aspects of your psyche steal from the poor parts.


The smartest words you have ever said in your life and
two of the top five thoughts of the past decade have
popped into your brain recently.
Inner sources of wisdom are strongly
aligned
with the Divine Intelligence,
formerly known as God.
Be wilder and freer.


Status quo, no!
Uncertainty and
transformation are
shifting the mood.
Experimenting with the rules is healthy.
Imagine different ways of doing things.
This superpower should be shared.


The rupture in the order of things has cause people to
completely forget why they started doing it.
People
are in a daze,
hypnotized by a certain 'rupture' which
took place some time ago.
Wake them up, gently, 
to move on.


You're an animal!
Vitality is heading toward peak levels.
Every move you make is a dance.
Explore the righteous blending of grace and power.
Be a fluid bolt of ingenious fun.
Play hard and
with sublime ferocity.


"Make the invisible dark force beautiful.
Create a song out of your moans.
Brag about your wounds.
Dance reverently on the graves of your enemies.
Sneak a gift to your bad self.
Dissolve the ties that bind you to hollow intelligence.
Seek the angel near the funky gully that winds through no man's land.
Dig for treasure in the mud puddle where the single lily grows,"
my dream said.
Align yourself with its spirit.


Happiness should be reclassified as a 'psychiatric disorder,' he says.
Pathology of joy, he says.
'Happiness is statisically abnormal,' he says.
Cluster of symptoms and
cognitive abnormalities abound, he says.
Be besieged by a massive influx of good feelings and
surges of unreasonable joy.
Rebel mode, activated.
Flaunt you abnormal bliss.


Epic Deed Ahead:
Capacity for amazing feats is bigger than usual.
Accomplish what's beyond your expectations.


You had to relinquish and were
forced to sacrifice what you love.
Be awakened to an unexpected new source of excitement
liberating you to rise again.


*Freestyle wacky fantasies:
indulging in your own version of
healthy for you.
Depart from you usual raps and
unveil some unpredictable self-expressions.



Found words in horoscopes from Independent Weekly 5.4.11.
All lines start with Indy words. Some lines end with my own. A few sections are all Indy.
*May 25: Found the one that didn't get copied in originally. Thanks jaanpehchaan from Heartbeat for noticing and letting me know.

After you have lain down to bed

After you have lain down to bed,
all the day's thoughts have left your head,
tomorrow starts to roll around.
Is true love what you really found?
Another dream just broke your heart.
Day breaks. Awake to play your part.



'After all, tomorrow is another day.'
Last line from 'Gone With the Wind'
Part of Carry On Tuesday 105

Earthen Fort Visit, Poem

Early morning start.
Long drive.
My love, myself, three friends.

Ocean air greets us.
I love the plants:
windblown,
living at ocean's edge,
holding the sand in place.

Of course,
nature moves the islands anyway.
It's the way of coasts, to change.

Mini museum about the fort
and the war.
Mini history lesson
for my friend
(he's Indian,
not much US history).

Weapons,
ships,
uniforms,
mini battle scenes.
Normal museum stuff.

Walking tour.
First, a film.
Battle pictures, old music.
Historians talking.

Outside, hoping for shade.
The tour guide is good people.

When built,
it was one of the best forts.
Only two sided,
strategically placed.

Earth pushed up
into walls
and battlements.

Only half of one wall left.
Still impressive.
The other wall
fell to the ocean
(shifting islands).

Part of it was flattened
to make way:
air force training landing strip,
for some more recent war,
the Great One
or maybe the second.

Good, shade.
Military still owns the land.
Park service rents it:
one dollar a year.
"Not a bad price.
We'd have to give it up
in time of Pacific war.
The entrance to this river
is still strategically valuable."

New position.
Thankfully more shade.
The general (I think)
left wife and kids
across the channel
during battle.
Good choice.

They loved each other.
His diary entries, and
her comments on some pages:
Playful love.

Ten time as many men
Attacked,
with naval support.
Shelled for days.
Boats had better range.
No fighting back.

Shells stop.
Land forces move in.
More marsh then,
harder assault.

We have a wood bridge.
Worts. Cool plants.
Really tall and wide here.
Lots of water
and enough shade.
Away from bridge:
smaller worts.

Cannon out for repair.
No battlement for us.
Great pictures, though.
Early battle photos.
Good photographer.
We're lucky.
Lots of battle details.

Just think,
man-made hills.
How much sand and dirt
moved to build their fort.
How many military men
worked on it
and how many slaves?

Hollowed out sections:
storage and shelling shelter.
Days of shelling,
the earthen walls
barely looked dented.
And none of the men hurt.

Live Oaks.
Special shape near ocean.
A tilt of being
constantly blown over
by ocean winds.
They are.
Leaves smaller,
waxier,
thicker
than inland.

Strong, beautiful trees.
My favorite trees.

"Well, any more questions?"
No one can think of any thing.
"Alrighty,
well I hope you enjoyed your tour.
Be sure to take a look around inside
if you didn't get a chance before.
Sorry the table's speaker's broken.
Anyway,
if you've enjoyed your visit,
think about making a donation."

Buttercups next to the steps.
Well, maybe buttercups.
Do buttercups grow so close
to the ocean?
Cute anyway.
"Jess, are you stuck?"
I point out the flowers,
then move on.

Another cannon
near the path back.
Kids are having their picture taken.
I had my picture taken
with a canon
when I was a kid.
Another fort,
another time,
another story.



The theme for Jingle Poetry's Potluck this week was Fortresses, Palaces, Castles, and Royal Houses. All I could think about was how much my boyfriend loves visiting forts. We recently visited one, and I thought I'd write about it. I wrote a short story version as well.

***May 21: This poem was chosen as Poem of the Week by Luna on Jingle Poetry! I'm so proud, very excited, and a bit surprised. Of course, I'm also honored and humbled. Thank you so much!

Earthen Fort Visit

We went to visit a fort. My love, myself, and three friends. It was a long drive out to the coast, and we got an early start on the day.

Finally, we're there. Ocean air blows into our faces when we get out of the car. I love the plants, windblown from living at ocean's edge. They hold the sand in place as best they can. Of course, the huge rocks the humans added keep the island in place, too. People forget that nature has been moving around these islands for centuries, back and forth, towards the mainland and out to sea.

We walk around and bit and make our way to the visitors center. There's a mini museum about the fort and a bit about the war. I explain to my friend a bit about why the war started, who the two sides were, and why there was a fort here (he's from India, and they don't learn much US history). There are letters from the families of commanding officers. There are examples of the weapons, the ships, the uniforms, and what the battlefield looked like (in miniature). My friend thinks the uniforms look too similar. I remind him that one side had much nicer fabric and plenty of weapons in store. The other side had to gather things up almost from scratch.

We decide to go on the walking tour. First, there's a video. It's not too bad. There are pictures from the battle, old music. It's narrated by historians.

Outside we go, hoping there's shade enough to not get sunburned on our walk. The tour guide is friendly, funny, seems to really love the fort and its history. He's good people.

When built, it was one of the best forts. Only two sided, but strategically placed. It was modeled after a Spanish fort, earth pushed up into walls and battlements.  Even though only half of one wall is left, it's still impressive. The other wall has since been taken over by the waves (shifting islands). Part of the remaining wall was flattened to make way for an air force training landing strip for some more recent war, the Great One or maybe the second.

We find some shade. The military still technically owns the land. The park service rents it for one dollar a year. "Not a bad price," our guide says, "But we would have to give it up in time of Pacific war. The entrance to this river is still strategically valuable."

Move to a new position, and there's thankfully more shade. The man in charge, general I think he was, left his wife across the channel with their children to watch the battle. Turns out that was a good choice for them. They loved each other. You can read it in his diary, his entries and her comments on some pages. Playful love.

The attackers had ten times as many people. And they had naval support. Boats shelled the fort for hours. The fort didn't have as fancy cannons as the boats had, so they couldn't fight back. The boats' cannons had better range. When the shelling finished, the land forces charged. There's less marsh now, so attacking soldiers would have had even more trouble getting to the wall than our wood bridge path gave us.  Worts, those are cool plants. There are some really tall and rather wide worts. They can only get that tall when there's enough water, and that wide when there's enough shade. The further from the bridge, the smaller the worts are.

The cannon is being repaired, so we can't get up to the battlement today. There are some really good pictures though, so we look at those. It was one of the first battles to be photographed. And the photographer was really good. We're lucky. This battle has a lot more details than others from the time period.

Just think, man-made hills. How much sand and dirt did they have to move around to build their fort. How many military men did the work and how many slaves? Big portions of the hills are hollowed out, storage and shelling shelter. Even with days of shelling, the earthen walls barely looked dented and none of the men inside were hurt.

So many lovely Live Oaks. They take a special shape near the ocean. The ones closer to the edge all have a tilt that looks like their constantly being blown over by the wind. In a way, they are.
The ones nearer the middle still stretch out their arms wide, but their leaves are a bit smaller, waxier, and thicker than their inland cousins. Strong, beautiful trees. My favorite trees.

"Well, any more questions?" No one can think of any thing. "Alrighty, well I hope you enjoyed your tour. Be sure to take a look around inside if you didn't get a chance before. Sorry the table's speaker's broken. Anyway, if you've enjoyed your visit, think about making a donation."

Buttercups next to the steps. Well, they look like buttercups, but I can't be sure. Do buttercups grow so close to the ocean? Cute anyway. "Jess, are you stuck?" I point out the flowers, then move on.
There's another cannon near the path back to the visitor's center. Some kids are having their picture taken with it. I remember having my picture taken with a canon when I was a kid. Another fort, another time, another story.



The theme for Jingle Poetry's Potluck this week was Fortresses, Palaces, Castles, and Royal Houses. All I could think about was how much my boyfriend loves visiting forts. We recently visited one, and I thought I'd write about it. I know this isn't poetry, but it is what came to me. Perhaps I'll make it a poem tomorrow.

Love Yourself

You brandish your love
hoping I will fear losing you
as much as you fear losing me.

You cry me your tears
hoping I will have pity for you
as much as you pity yourself.

You forbid me from leaving
hoping I will want to stay with you
as much as you want me to stay.

You have not managed
to make me want to stay.

You have managed
to make me pity you.

You will never manage
to make me love you.

Love yourself.
No one can do it for you.




Inspired by Three Word Wednesday CCXL 
*May 18: Submitted to Thursday Poets' Rally 44

Right as Rain

Into the sky I gaze.
The clouds form soft arrays.
Merry, they dance around.
Month long, rainstorms abound.
Of the clouds I pick out,
May flowers come about
in their time, because rain,
farmer's join and pain,
morn, noon, and night appears.
By wind, it travels here.
Break off cursing the skies.
Of water comes all life.
Day, Night, Sun, Rain: All Right.



Part of this week's Carry On Tuesday
Lines from: Phillida and Coridon by Nicholas Breton



Part of Promising Poet's Parking Lot Thursday Poets Rally 43.

Dreams Pass

In the merry month of May
In a morn by break of day
From a peaceful, made up place,
From a sweet dream, I awake
To find I am not at home,
But in a field. I'm alone.
My love is gone, though last night
we slept in bed side by side.
I wander about to see
Where this place might really be.
Seeing naught for many miles
I sit down and crack a smile.
This place just can't be real.
I pinch myself, try to feel.
I lie down, enjoy the grass,
Then let another dream pass.


Part of this week's Carry On Tuesday
Lines from: Phillida and Coridon by Nicholas Breton

Nervous Dancer

She has little fame,
jitters at her name.
The act begins.

She enters the stage.
Then her practiced grace
flows through her limbs.

Her thin form creates
an artistic frame.
And the dance ends.


Part of Three Word Wednesday

Hesitations

A dream realized,
a fantasy fulfilled,
if you just take the jump.
Put yourself out there.
Opportunity only come knocking
when he knows where you live.
Nervousness is normal.
Change is unavoidable.
Take a deep breath,
remember your goal,
and go for it.
Sounds easier than it feels, huh?



Part of this week's Poetry Potluck from Jingle Poetry. Which, part of the reason I checked out the blog was due to the initials JP, same as mine.

Honeysuckle

Hanging
on
near
elementary
youths.
Smelling
up
children's
kickball.
Leaving
enjoyment.