My newest adventure is underway. It has lead me to take up residency in a new blog,
Like the Feathers of an Arrow (affectionately known as LFA).

...don't open...don't throw away... is not disappearing completely (not yet),
but postings here will be limited.

Friday, August 3, 2012

3 Can I Have This Dance?: Unarmed

Title:  Mama's Arms
Artist:  Joshua Kadison
Album:  Painted Desert Serenade
Genre:  Rock

Notes:  When I heard this song last week there was no doubt in my mind that it would lend inspiration for today.  This week has been a hard week; I wonder if today were to have been on a Monday or a Tuesday would the build up to today not have been so difficult.  The first time I could only bring myself to ramble on the center of which was the hug.  Last year, I found my voice, but dulled the ache by conforming to blank verse so the emotions would not overwhelm.  Again the hug finding its way into my words.  This year, again I look to form and I speak of the hug. 

Form and I have a love-hate relationship.  I find it torture-some, yet when all is said and done quite satisfying.  And on a day like today the struggle gives my mind a focus that even given the topic helps to dull the pain.  This was not an easy form--rondeau.  Of course I made it harder on myself by trying to write in stressed-meter--iambic with an extra stress at the start or trochaic with an extra stress at the end. 

I admit, I labored over this for quite some time.  The first to verses not so evil, but the last....  I almost decided to throw in the towel on rondeau and go for my form of choice--free verse.  In the end, I seemed to have found my way--at least with this poem.

In your arms my fears dissolve away;
such a hug could make it all okay.
Every time emotions falter you
sheltered me; your warm embrace just knew
how to keep the pain and tears at bay.
Here I am--on this our special day--
lost; unarmed.  I stare towards the fray
scared, for in the past you saw me through
                                               in your arms.
Now I feel alone.  My world, pure grey,
tumbles all around to my dismay.
Just a touch could brighten up my view.
Oh how do I make this wish come true,
so again my fears might fade away
                                               in your arms.                      

A (3WW) Aside:  While the three words [3WW=>emotion(s), falter, touch] presented at Three Word Wednesday this week already found there way into a poem, the words seemed to have made there mark here.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

8 Turbulent Storms

seamless flight falters;
as turbulent winds take hold,
wings dive seeking shelter's peace

brewing emotions
seek refuge in the storm's touch
spirits soar--embracing rain

there is not much on the sedoka--not really.  the form is ancient--older than the haiku.  it dates back to the same time as the choka and the tanka.  when I first discovered the form on Shadow Poetry, the form was mentioned to be two katauta that could stand as single poems.  it also mentioned that the form "may address the same subject from different perspectives."  it is this idea that has intrigued me from the beginning.  recently I have begun to see if I could find more information on the form.  still there is very little, but a lot of the sites that I know found state the two katauta should be adjacent--not separated as I original found them to be.  I'm not sure what the right way is, but I'll keep continue to keep the separate for now.

this sedoka is the second one I've written inspired by Three Word Wednesday.  
[3WW=>emotion(s), falter(s), touch]

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

8 Last Call: Booty Call--Outgoing Message

Booty Call--Outgoing Message

I'm not a shot of espresso,
there when you need a pick me up;
I'm not a 24 hour convenience store,
open just to satisfy your midnight cravings.

I'm a desirable woman--
I'm a goddess meant to be savored day and night--
my own needs catered to with an intense fervor.

Take me as I am--all of me--
or accept nothing--not one thing.
I deserve far more than you've been willing to give.
So man up, if you dare.  Leave your heart at the beep.

I have to say that these pom seeds have really been coming in handy as of late.  They're like juicy little kernels of inspiration waiting to be consumed and savored.  What I find interesting with this particular pom seed is that I'm not sure where my original thoughts were; I could extract any memory of what might have inspired this one, but still I think what it grew into works well.  I did make a two slight tweaks to the original in order to accommodate the desired syllable count.

This is my offerings for the dVerse Poets Pub OpenLinkNight. If you get a chance, check out all of the talented poets who have stepped up into the spotlight.

Sunday, July 29, 2012

1 Time Capsule: Flight of the Eagle

Title:  Flight of the Eagle
Date:  between 04/07/92 and 01/28/93
Setting:  Junior year of high school
Form:  Free Verse

Up on the hill the eagle screams;
All around darkness engulfs.
A look down below;
A glance high above.
Clouds blend with night,
Moon smiles bright.
 Up on the hill the eagle cries;
Down below lights flicker on.
A tear falls down;
A fear builds high.
Owls sound with song,
Stars shine long.
 Up on the hill the eagle leaps;
On the ground mankind lay.
A death below;
A life above.
Eagle sours with might,
Teenage girl’s death flight.

Notes:  I didn't always keep track (date-wise) of when I wrote.  It was much worse when I was younger.  I eventually decided to piece together a timeline.  There is a part of me that feels this poem was written in or around February.  I have vague memories of writing a short piece in conjunction with this one near Valentines Day.  Strangely enough the dates I apparently placed it between do not include February.  

Maybe my memory is wrong.  Maybe my timeline is off.  I suppose it doesn't really much matter.  

Artifact I:  Original write