Vibrant

 

 


A lone leaf,
unnoticed
when among others on the branch,
appears vibrant here—

remarkable enough
to stop one in their tracks.

 

 

 

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Optimism


Sometimes . . . 

fog rolls in,
obscuring our view—

and we wonder . . . 

what’s ahead?

We can’t read the signs,
so, for a while . . . 



we just follow the lines,

or maybe others along the way. . . 

while optimism keeps us going,

expecting a clearing

someplace     just      ahead.

 

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Doors (a poem)



Nocturnal navigation—
dream’s doors
blowing open and shut,
flapping madly
like bedsheets on a line
between waking and sleep—
omens of change.

 

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Written in response to a
 three word prompt:
madly, nocturnal, omen.

 

 

 

 
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Phone Trapeze



A friend is calling
on a stand-still-day.
What can I say
when words feel out of reach?
I answer—
we chat—
finding words and assurance
like trapeze artists

who find each other’s hands.

– –

A telephone call
on a leaping-ledge day
from a listening friend—
when conversation’s
aerial pendulum
breaks in mid-sentence
into drawn-out laughter—


a spread of net beneath.

 

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Response to a prompt that asks about time spent apart from a favorite person.

 

 
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Variations on a Cloud

cloud branching

One person sees a cloud and feeloptimistic it’ll pass—
“let there to sunshine”.

cloud branching

Someone else sees the same cloud and feels optimistic it’ll build—
“let there be rain”.

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Nature, in its own time, balances and gives to each and all.

 

 

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Holding


All others lost to early frost,
the last summer violet
    curls,
as if to hold
    its color,
    its scent,
    its season.
 

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Having no photo of a flower at hand,  this rolled paper sitting on my desk took its place. Notice how an idea or image can enliven your perception of other things? Isn’t that what draws us to art?

 

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Calculating . . .

Under the Peel

1-1-P2600490 orange c


The future under the peel,
the juice in each capsule


sealed,
released, revealed—


sweet and tart—

squeezed into a moment

and in how we look back

    remembering the vibrant
    unpeeled orange

and in how we forget

    the peeling
      the taste,
        the satisfaction.


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Charcoal

Charcoal on the grill
crumbling cool grey,
charred, ashen, fragile,
concealing
fierce-fired
ferocity.

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Written in response to the January 9th
 two-word prompt (tranquil, ferocity) at SenseWrds on Twitter (where you’ll find more micropoetry).

 

 

 
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Mirage of the Blues

 

Simmering summer
slab of asphalt highway—
shimmering mirage—
dangling dream—
drought-drawn line—
pressing into sky blues,
melodic lines,
wailing in harmony
with unseen cloud.

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Written in response to the January 7th
 three word prompt (mirage, dangling, harmony) suggested by the hostess of  SenseWrds on Twitter.   Check it out if you like micropoetry! 

 

 

 
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Rain!

p1110371 to edit

 

Rain—in a flash-frenzied fall,
reaches dry lake bed—eager
to guzzle it all.

 

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Written in response to a
 three word prompt:
eager, frenzy, guzzle.

Here’s a link to my earlier post regarding the thirsty lake that inspired this poem.

California is now absorbing a burst of heavy rainfall; there’s hope this will bring some relief to the effects of a long drought.

 

 

 
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Cycle

P1160993 young cloud c

 

Wander, young cloud,
as the winds blow.
Climb mountains bold,
build your own
like rounded range of snow.
Be a canvas
of astonishing colors
painted sunrise and set,
until you are ready,
filled with full cycle,
to give up your burden,
complete.

 

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Written in response to a
 three word prompt:
wander, astonished, complete.

 

 

 

 
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Indescribable Life

beads of rain on leaf

No leaf of time
or obituary’s 
word
defines.

No resigning fall
 of resonant rain,
  beading memories,
   placid light,
    held in each,
confines.

 

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Written in response to a
 three word prompt:
obituary, resonant, placid.

 

 

 

 
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Measuring Time

Sunbathing summer sands,
nude sundancing dunes,
lackadaisical, long, lingering
wait—
makeshift time—
measured millimeters
of rain.


Written in response to a
 three word prompt: lackadaisical, makeshift, nude.

Note (to anyone wondering where I’ve been): I’m here, but “away” (in a way). There are many factors. Time is one. Like the rain, sometimes it just isn’t there. It returns. Sometime.

 

 
 

Imperfect (Limerick)


 
An imperfect pursuit, it is true,
to seek out perfection in you,
especially as I . . .
I know how and why
I’m no better, if only you knew!

(of course
you know!)

Of course, it is easy to note,
and to find others whom you can quote,
that perfection’s not . . . mine,
but that’s all well and fine,
as long as we’re in the same boat!

 

 

 

Written in response to  Writing 201’s Day 4 poetry prompts—imperfect, limerick, enjambment

 
 

Sky Words

Skin (poem)


Skin? What kind of skin? The translucent, permeable, that barely protects? The skin of the fruit that blushes when ripe, then bruises when handled too eagerly? The skin we call our own that longs for touch, and sometimes armor?

What about words we weigh, say, covering feelings like stretched parchment or brittle papyrus?

We skin our knee and remember our mortality. We hurt someone’s feelings, and find our reckless, fleckless faultlines, our skin-over-bone awareness.

The skin of the mirror is wrinkled by warped time. Oh, time, time, what kind of skin is that? It lets too much through—consequence’s harsh rays.

Oh, time, the skin of all things! Even our planet is subject! Its gracious, spacious, vulnerable circle of turning, tuning itself to the orchestra of darkness and light—lyrical spherical cycles!

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Written in response to  Writing 201’s Day 3 poetry prompt—skin, prose poem, internal rhyme.

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Equation (poem)


A gift of equation
Beyond mere numbers
Calculations,
Denominators,
Endings with values
Fraught with challenge
Giving proofs to ponder
Hallowed awe and wonder,
Infinite rewritings on chalkboard
Just in time for erasure
Knowing more beyond its dust,
Like ghost numbers on the floor
Mingling with tiles
Not of marble, but slate
Offering sure footing’s
Place to stand brave,
Quiet at erased solution,
Ready to write anew,
Satisfied by search’s
Translation into questions,
Unknowns and knowns,
Variables
With or without final answers,
X, Y or Z.

 
 

A-Z poem written in response to  Writing 201’s Day 2 prompting assignment—gift, acrostic, simile.

 
 

World’s Window (Haiku)

Nasty, Purr, Kneel

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The nasty heat purred
as it rolled in the blazing sun,
forcing the grasses to kneel. 

 

 

How many of my short poems have been in response, it seems, to the drought here in California.  This one is also in response to the three words that appear in the title . . . and heat? Yes, heat.  This week some parts of  inland California experienced temperatures in the 100s (106F /41C ).

 

 

 
 

Lines seen, unseen

In a review of the 1993 film titled VISIONS OF LIGHT: THE ART OF CINEMATOGRAPHY (1993) Jerry Saravia wrote:

“What I learned was how important it was for cameramen to make their movie stars from the past look as beautiful as possible . . .  to be perfectly lit . . . and actresses, like Marlene Dietrich, would insist on certain cinematographers for the right look.”

During a recent close up photographic challenge, I experimented with a spoon which, though scratched, could look flawless. 

 

One thing for sure, photo challenges give an excuse to purposefully experiment and to enjoy seeing how others interpret and respond to the same prompt.
 

 

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