j-flamingo reflections

Inspired by the grace and beauty of the flamingo, my life reflected by my love of reading, writing and creating.

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

Fallen

The secret is in the line.” ~Charles Bukowski
 


rapid voices speak to me

not taking the time to introduce who they are

may it be my poetic voice

or of poet’s past

words from pages

or alone from conversation overheard

spilt out and reaching my language

as different each time

wishing to record them all

writing faster or longer isn’t enough

simply they have fallen

deep into thoughts - they are fighting

to own a unique voice

inclined to stain the paper

as ink splotches under artistic direction

Why find surprises?

amongst such yearning

lovingly please share unafraid

instead of battling fear

confidence of consequence

forever making me smile

missing words until filled in

bringing space to the void

adding brilliance to lines

enjoying how it feels

when words enter then exit

caressing dreams from fingertips

especially driven until discovering a stopping point

from what is being told

creativity creeps like being so special

 can be heard in music

like lyrics from Radiohead

or another musical artist

not to be favored unless one relates

because infinitely these words

are meant to be deliciously revisited

felt around inner souls

speaking what is delicately heard

within the midst of fog

a driving force in poetic language

written grasping words from the wind

spoken to who are listening

begging innocently

place me with value

to be seen, read and heard

repeated over again shaken

so carefully stirred

mixing introductory wisdom

in philosophical corners from pieces of truth

coming from all directions

pasted so reverently

as a poem happened. 

©JAC
***

Written exclusively for the Week 81 prompt at dverse Poet’s Pub. Join in the fun & add your own to the list!


Tuesday Poetry


Aurora

At first blush

Waiting for daybreak

Time before the alarm

Near morning

Can you see me as clearly

Rather waking up

Being swept away

Sort of a fog

From the other wee hours

Like being partially awake

In early bright

When the moment comes

Starting to realize

The sun is shining

Keeping its light on me

To warm the crawling cold

At the face of sunrise

Please pull me closer

Raising my temperature gently

So I can drift into afternoon

From morning.

©JAC

 



Thanks for reading today and letting me share once more at dverse.  I realize it has been a while for me to share anything there, or almost anywhere, but I hope to keep sharing again.  I appreciate the shared poems from dverse poets because their words help me get through my 'moments.' Please be sure to check out these other great poets & read poetry every day!

As I wrote this poem today, I feel that is has a restless quality about it. I thought of how helping someone to heal was as important as remembering how comfort feels when it is needed. Photographs feel that way when I look at them sometimes....comforting. As always, I love to hear your thoughts.

A Revival of Sorts and a #poem for Winter


Noticeably, I have taken quite an extensive siesta of sorts from blogging and I honestly hadn’t meant for it to be this long of a break.  In the meantime, I have continued to write poetry on Twitter and in my notebooks.  I have been attending school for design which takes a lot of my creative power to get through the academic writing and tasks that lay ahead for me there.  I have been volunteering at my daughter’s school as the Secretary in the PTSO which has been an enriching experience.  I have been working part time at a couple of locations and have continued a bit of freelance creative work on the side.  I am still a mother of growing children whom have lives and schedules of their own. A day doesn’t go by for me that I don’t create with words, pictures or art.  I enjoy being busy and I know in 2013 I will continue on with my adventures.  I plan to learn more about myself and apply that knowledge into my life which what I’d like to share on this blog. 

Basically, my blog has evolved into a poetry blog and I may mix it up once in a while. For the most part, I love poetry very much and I seem to return to it a lot in my writing.  All types of writing interest me and so I may experiment here from time to time.  I also like to personable and share my thoughts from either visuals or ideas I see around me.  I will also be including a few of my creative or art projects and designs as well.

If you are still following me then I appreciate that you hoped I would return.  I hope that you will continue to read and comment on my posts.  If not, I understand why you didn’t and I hope that you will might discover my return and feel free to follow me once more.  I may not be here often but I will do my best to have some consistency so that I would not deserve your interest.  I know I have many friendships to renew or establish as I look forward to blogging again.    

Now, for your reading pleasure I came across an idea that I had for a poem in 2006.  It was based upon a question that I answered for a writing group about my favorite season and why.  Loosely, it explains my amazement that I chose to write about winter because for the last 14 years I’ve been living here in South Texas.  So, I must admit I’ve grown accustomed to a warm and not very long winter in comparison to other places around the world where winter is long and cold.  Based upon my childhood memories of colder winters and my love of being able to keep warm from being cold, I present to you a winter poem.

 A Moment of Winter

Briefly
At winter’s gate

Ice forms then blankets all.

 
Cold slips throughout
My fingertips

Multiplying until my whole body feels numb.

 
Before becoming too frozen

Warmth must be found

Easing the hardship
Of feeling cold from the beginning.

 
Some of the brightest memories

From my childhood
Express itself from winter’s creeping form.

 
Found in a cup of delightful warmth

Bundle me up in cozy comfort
As I sip encountering a satisfying taste

That releases the chill
Bringing me home.

 
©JAC
Originally written: 10/26/2006
Rewritten: 01/01/2013

Poem: Within Pain

Thinking back
when you feel pain
it hurts
highly affected
hard to believe
how it hurts so much
Answers may not be visible
meds may not be correct
turn your world around
keep finding a way past the pain
Don't give up
Look and see
someone is reaching out
to wish you comfort
as you have waited
find a dream
feel solace
know that friends care
find within hearts
love
that may ease some
pain
Remain hopeful.


D6: #Novelpi ~ Poem: Clarity

Find a way to fight past the confusion
leave behind
old suitcases
battered shoes
from streets of tiny rocks
combining to make a pathway
to finding treasures of the soul
wasting away
words that meet us in the middle of our minds
until a picture is formed from their image
stolen secrets of time
faded deep inside our memories
as a beaten drum
returning a constant beat
glorifying a dedication
to return to who one might long to be
finding time
capturing lines
in flight of fancy
concluding slowly and spreading out
to meet the wind
as the shadows roll in
looking for a way to join
the blue skies
in traveling away from cluttered thoughts
to remain in clarity.
***


I enjoyed the process in my mind as this poem took shape. I may be biased but I'm happy with the way it turned out.

For #novelpi today, I felt as if I put off my writing time and then barely squeaked out 428 words. I didn't like the way that felt. I had started to feel better about being regular in my writing even if my word count is low I'm happy when I don't procrastinate. I'm looking forward to doing better!

A Comfortable Poem

Comfortable

gathering by the side of a stream

silently sitting there

together

side by side

As the rush of water

tucks emotions into corners of our minds

hoping to wash away

the bleak

empty restless spaces

our mind forms at times

from the sullen and the free

Will you comprehend me?

Most importantly

triumphantly

we were meant to be

friends

as comfortable as can be.



*written for #Novelpi (Novel Push Initiative) Day 1: 607 word count. Check out 5-rings for more information on NPI. I'm participating in this challenge for the next two months and so I plan to update you on my progress hoping you'll enjoy any of my writing tidbits that will come out of this. Thanks for reading!

From Barbie to Rapunzel: Persona Poetry (thoughts from #poetparty)


Imagine, if you will, what would a conversation be like between Barbie(tm) and Rapunzel? It might be interesting, right?!? Well, from the place of your own imaginings of that conversation gives a little insight into what I'd like to share with you today.

On Sundays, I look forward to the twitter chat called #poetparty. As I have followed this chat, I have learned so many ideas, thoughts, and basic knowledge on poetry. I also feel that I catch a unique glimpse into the minds of poets. Not only has it strengthened my desire to write poetry but also wamt to learn poetic forms and to read more poetry as well. Of course, it helps with my love affair with words too. I can't help but be inspired!

This past Sunday, June 12th, the #poetparty chat was on Persona Poetry. When I first heard about this topic, I realized I didn't understand the full meaning of what they meant by this term. Call me old-fashioned but I first consulted my rare 1980 Edition Funk & Wangnalls Desk Dictionary, which is one of my favorite dictionaries, where persona is defined as


A character in a drama, novel, etc... [L, person]


After this, I asked people around me, i.e., my husband & oldest daughter, for their insight into what they thought persona poetry might be which became a nice discussion on the idea that it would mean for poetry to be considered reflective and who would be characterized as the voice of the poem.

Next, I searched Google, as most do nowadays and found this description:


The speaker or voice of a literary work, or in plainer words, "who's doing the talking."


I enjoyed his idea of how it is applied to the poem in a nuetral sense.

Another basic idea of persona poetry is not to confuse the narrator or speaker of the poem with the author. For this type of poetry, the poet is imagining what it would be like to write a poem as someone or something else. Many examples were given such as writing in the form of a film/movie character, pop culture character, natural elements like flowers, trees, etc... There are many types of 'persona's' that a poem can be written in. The consensus was that quality mattered with this type of poetry. If a persona poem is well done that it is worthwhile to enjoyably be read.

One of the examples brought to light right away in the discussion was a poem being written in Barbie's voice. This caught my eye and I thought it was funny because to me Barbie is more than a doll, she's a character that I created in my mind when I played with her as a young girl. For hours, I used to play Barbie dolls making elaborate story lines all with set and costume design included. In my mind, Barbie can be anything she wanted to be which was usually right where I wanted to escape to in my young mind. So, for me she's not silly, or unintelligent but rather quite the opposite of that. So, honestly, I don't have a problem with Barbie being written into a persona poem. I am among the minor in this category, dare I admit this though, but I feel I can find value even in the most unexpected people or places. Key point is if I'm being willing to learn, for myself at least from them, anyway.

I wrote a prose piece from the mind of Barbie which I'll share with you here:

From the mind of this girl, I feel alive. She makes me live within her. I am somebody. It's not about how I look or what she even dresses me in. It's about the moments that she makes me feel successful. I am not just her doll but her dreams. I feel a connection each time she opens her closet where I exist and she lets me live. I feel real. I need to talk with her to let her know what she's brought into my life. I feel her communicating with me. I say the words that she longs to tell anyone who would listen. I am listening. I love her ideas on something special. I can't deny that I'd miss her if she ever went away. Most girls her age, no longer care for me or even have time to play with me anymore. She hides from the world to do so because her love is so great for our story line. I've been living her movie. I wouldn't trade it for another realm. I see from her mind what she could be. I am what she is afraid of - perhaps that is even being famous. Her definition of success is actually quite simple which makes it lovely. I love her kind heart and this make-believe world we live together. In time, I know it will end. Perhaps, it will be time to grow up and I hope she'll have the opportunity that came in her dreams. If I can let her feel, even briefly, that those dreams can be real I've done what I hoped to as her doll. Most of all, I want her to feel free to dream. In one day, she can really do all that we have had so much fun pretending. What she doesn't realize now, is how soon she'll grow up. It isn't far away. In her mind, I know we'll always be friends because her imagination holds her deepest desires and hopes. This means a lot. It is something I know she won't give up. I know in the way she treats me, holds me, dresses me. I am well-cared for so others in her life will be too. I am glad to have this glimpse into this girls heart. I am happy that she treats me as her friend. I like the characterization that she evolved for me. I will be the part of her memory that she may turn to when times become rough. I've been here for her. She knows this and in this way - the beauty is all of ours to share. Stay with your dreams - dear girl!

***
Another persona piece that I realized that I had written was a square dance motif that I wrote as a book review for Rapunzel's Revenge by Shannon Hale. See what you think here. I'm biased but I rather liked how it turned out. Aren't you curious now? ;)

Now, there's a little insight into persona poetry. I've realized now that I like it and want to write more besides I think I have used persona poetry more than I realized in the past. Let me know what you're thinking about it or share one of your favorite persona poems in the comments. Thanks!

NaPoWriMo #30: Epic Evanesce


Mysteries unfold
unraveling shadows
of dark mixed with light
creating a shadow
in my thoughts
concerning me
to ponder

Why you're coming back again
frightening me since I know
you never left my heart
I don't want to hurt
the way I did once
when you cast your fiery darts
my way

I need to find peace
without you
this is not the mystery
I expected
cast into the shadows
of my life
wondering what happened
in this unfortunate realm

Abounding weakness of my soul
not feeling courage
to conquer
or escape
love only deepens
a penetrating wall
meant to withstand
letting you in again

Find stillness
mimic peace
remarkable journey
trying to come away
but only realizing
how near I am to
complete devastation
ruin or chaos
because my heart won't forget
how you empower me
by continuing the beauty
held within your words

My memory beckons
as it has recorded
long since felt you near
as it never forgets
how to internally
shed a tear
contemplate
reverberate
reverence the fact
that I have the issues
you never did

I want to heal
when it hasn't been an option
for me
you feel whole
I feel broken
where I fool myself
into believing
upon the waters
I won't be swayed
rocking silently
into a watery grave

Breaking down
melting away emotion
long overdue to be
overcome by powers
yet to seek
discovered
in our tender friendship
relations joined through
knowledge alone
an evanesce of minds
power unconceded
form a tiny throne

A Kingdom

Our castle in the sky.

NaPoWriMo #29: Imperfect Rain

I thought we were
in a place
where if you or I
told our true feelings
we could feel the difference
even if we felt offense

We could forgive-
move forward
to remain friends

But the rain came
and it could not
wash away the pain
guilt or sadness

I wish
the rain could heal
just like the earth smells
so clean
right after rain

Then we could start
over
begin again
bathed in our imperfections
and be blessed by

LOVE

again and forever.

NaPoWriMo #28: An Ode to Joan of Arc

In the darkness
the stars sat still
amongst the sky

A horse adjusted his footing
breathing out
slightly whinged
Faintly
in the stillness
A soldier
had his head buried
between his legs
sobbing

An altered life
his would be forever
As his Captain
Sweet Captain
was killed

Never in his life
had he been inspired
as much as he had
when she would speak

He could hear her now
as a voice of thunder
in his mind
Rumbling
inside of him
He felt sick
He questioned everything
He trusted no one

Where would his life lead him now?

What would happen to her brilliant army?

Couldn't they see how courageous all of his fellow soldiers had been in the face of such devastating cruelty and war?

The fight needed to be fought
but was the price too high?

His questions
His thoughts
of her

What she did
would not stop
He felt his soul
had changed

He had to do what he could
to remember her now
because they would not

This would not be an easy task
as so many
felt she was evil now
but he knew
which gave his heart
a moment of peace
that the tale
of the great

Joan of Arc

would have to be told!





*More info. & photo found at: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joan_of_Arc

NaPoWriMo #27: Light


Light...

Only you-

Only me-

Wherein you have released light within me

Only you

will get it back

Only you

can immerge from the foundation

Failure to see

Failure to listen

Only love whoever I am

Do not accept as readily as you imply

Have you become intolerant of me?

Even so much that it hurts

Although there is still light in me

You will never see it

I have no choice

I sense this loss

responding only by having to move on

beyond your shadow

creeping up along

out of the night

finding a way

through to embrace my own soul again

to know

to learn the lucid secrets of the light

Only you

will not notice

as I rekindle again

essentially fire

resilient as ever before

because one truth remains

I am

Only me.

NaPoWriMo #26: Short & Sweet



It is a big hill.

One should climb to the top.

Sit here.

Be still.

Remember and love.

Cherish and remind.

Hold on.

Don’t fall down or I’ll have to come tumbling after.

NaPoWriMo #25: Her Flower Garden


Tiny droplets clung to the window
for a small second
then raced down unevenly
The rain felt comforting
Look at the crimson flowers
in her garden

Smiling
they would finally be watered
without her assistance
It had been a long series of events
that placed her in her new living arrangements
her miniature flower garden
had been one of those things
to do for her to make her feel like
she had a place here

Filling to the brim with
Wildflowers-
Lilies -
Roses-
Daisies-
Among her favorites
were her distinguished
and prized
Orchids

All these flowers combined
to create a spiritual
evolution
of beauty
intensified by each flower
simply magnified
and resilient
although these conditions
seemed harsh and unrealistic
which might make them fragile

Instead they grew
resisting opposing forces
and finding their own magical force
growing through cracks in sidewalks
or up from the rocky soil
and even lining the fencing
white pickets and all
forming a new way
making a mixed-up garden
seem complete
with even the tiniest of flowers
peeking through the edges of
larger flowers

This garden may only last
for a rare season
but for her
with death fast approaching
it was her season
to make them live
so that something would make her feel alive
and find a way to grow
in the toughest of circumstance

If anything else
would be so pleasant
the lingering scent
and floral beauty
would capture her heart
helping her soar to the heavens
where she would no longer want for a garden
as there it would be eternal
always appreciating
how much effort and work it may take now
to make her garden whole
lively
ever-blooming
before the sun dried up
each flower
crumpled to a new discovery
a rare complexion
of vintage proportions
found in a new way of looking
at what beauty means through
the form of a withered flower

So many lessons to learn
places to go
but her garden
was her solitude
after a life well-lived
this was her final resting place
or at least she hoped
for one friend
to plant flowers
upon her graven bed
Then even in death
she would smell the lingering scent
all the while
imagining the image
of how the flower looked like
from her perspective

To her, this simple garden
meant eternity...

NaPoWriMo #24: One Wish for Getting Old

Using writing prompt: Write about how getting old is hard and tough...

When I am old and worn,
and there are days I cannot move as I once did.
I am hopeful,
I will still remember all the things I ever loved,
all of the activities I loved to do.
I'll do only what I'm able now
thinking as I always did of my
shining love for others.
I may not be able to do
what I'm used to doing which will bring
frustration.
I believe
my glorious spirit will be still the same.
I'll long for youth that I did not keep
myself so busy that I did not reach out to others.
Perhaps, I'll feel regret.
I worry that
you will look upon me differently.
I may become a stranger.
Please look real hard and deep inside
you may feel my presence within.
Most of all, don't forget me,
don't neglect my spirit
somewhere deep inside, it has
one wish
which will be all I'll ask of you,
my dear young man...
Bring me His precious Sacrament
of my Savior, Lord and King.


Have a very Happy Easter!

NaPoWriMo #23: Time and Space

Mystical space

vast and open

creeps upon the shadow of free time

tells us of eternity.

Yet, when people achieve an opportunity to fly

into the universe, we call Space

they do not feel alone.



Time is perchance, an illusion

although we follow it

we live by it

to the fact that it can control,

even run, our lives.

And yet in our moments of time

here on earth,

we can feel ever so alone.

NaPoWriMo #22: Choose to Love

I sometimes feel like I am a no-one.
As if it is easier to loose my friendship
than to gain it or desire to keep it.

Just walk away
She's not worth it anymore
She doesn't deserve my love


As if love is something that you can change,
give up,
or have conditions upon.

What is a real friend anyway?
Who is this?
Don't we all get hurt?
What is she to you?


Can't everyone feel
lost
lonely
confused
at any given moment.

In the end,
after losing my friend,
I can only hope
that I am not the monster
others may see
but I know who I am,
who I want to be,
even if it's buried deep within me.

Today, I may feel like I am a no-one.
Tomorrow, I will still
choose to love.

NaPoWriMo #21: Evoke

Diversity is needed to

teach us tolerance.

Can we love and not hate?

Can we see without blindness?


Evoke, our feelings -

Difference

makes life fun

Interesting.

NaPoWriMo #20: Control

Even though many do not
I must conrol my temper
somehow
some way
since it takes energy away
I don't want to let go of
I'd rather feel I could start
all over again

Control

It seems simple
It's one of the hardest things
especially when you feel so much
Is this normal?
It seems so random
bits of small frustrations
makes for so many complications

Control

Can it be done?
Reach a point of self-mastery
I've seen it in others
not in myself
It's a struggle
until the end

Control

How much do we really have in this world?
Only sets of experiences
basic obervance
tells us of other choices
affecting us
repeat circumstances
always come to happen
often it feels like
déjà-vu

Control

I want it to be part of my heart
yet utterly it feels like chaos
choices apprehend
driving madness
forcing defeat
in some small way
regaining courage
to keep trying
maintaining a foot hold
on part of the path

Control

the intuition of the heart serves
as a healing stone
a helping aid
some semblance of control
revisited through a mechanism
finally
partly being tamed.

NaPoWriMo #19: Coffee Shops

It seems ridiculous that I like coffee shops
when I don't even drink coffee!
But it's true!

I like the smell of coffee
I enjoy the fact that I always
dream up something to write
while I'm in the shop.

I enjoy saying "Hi"
to people who might be there
catching a tiny thread of a conversation
echoing a glimpse of their reality
Or observing someone sitting quietly
I feel relaxed.

I do enjoy a good cup of hot chocolate
Or an icy Italian soda
even a bottle of water
they don't even mind-
"May I interest you in a cookie or desert?"
"Perhaps this one time."

Smiling ~
looking for the familiar faces
of my writing group
always a chance to learn
and join in the fun
as you read where their writing takes you
all within the bounds
of the coffee shop.

After all, it doesn't seem so silly now-
Instead, it feels a part of my nonsensical
authentic
writing life.

NaPoWriMo #18: Release

If only
I felt comfort enough
so I could release
all my innermost
wants
desires
needs
through poetic words
that I love so much
so deeply
pain
released in ease
of conversational poems
reclose in grief
Still needing closure
I need to come free
although undone
I feel better
after a few rounds of words
poetically spoken
in want or desperation
Still, I ache for more.


To feel most beautifully alive means to be reading something beautiful, ready always to apprehend in the flow of language the sudden flash of poetry.

~Gaston Bachelard (1884–1962), French scientist, philosopher, literary theorist. "A Retrospective Glance at the Lifework of a Master of Books," Fragments of a Poetics of Fire (1988, trans. 1990).

About this blog

Welcome Readers~to my blog! A tiny extension of myself and my life. Here, I'll share this journey through my top passions in my life - reading, writing, and creating. You can expect to read poetry, view my papercrafts and read design related posts. Every once in a while, I hope you'll grasp an honest feel of my heart. If you haven't noticed, I love flamingos! I think they are beautiful birds. *Thanks for your attention.*

She is pure Alice in Wonderland, and her appearance and demeanor are a nicely judged mix of the Red Queen and a flamingo.
~Truman Capote

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