2 images

A Smile That Can Light Up a Room
(image by rmp, that's me)

one of the new blog rules is to include images at least once a week...spice things up with some visuals and what not...

while not stated in the rule, i have made the executive decision that the image has to be one taken by me.  i'm not really one for photography, mainly cause i just can't seem to remember to bring my camera with me or keep the battery charged.  my cell phone has made things a bit easier on that front, but my eye for the perfect shot isn't so fine tuned.

anyway...i have also decided a couple of guidelines would be a good idea.  so here goes...

1. image must be an original by none other than rmp (that's me)
2. image only counts toward the one per week upon its first appearance
3. reappearing images are allowed
4. all images must contain a title caption and credit the photographer (that's me)

i think those guidelines should suffice for now.  

3 Falling: A Poem for Two (a poem in two voices)

as though trying to write a sonnet wasn't hard enough, i couldn't help but rip it apart into pieces for two.  so here is my sonnet meant for two voices.  i suppose you are wondering why i'd attempt a form i'm not so keen on...i guess i like a challenge...this one was offered up by Poetic Asides.


so back to the sonnet...i admit, for some odd reason in the back of my head i relate sonnets to love...so i stuck with that theme.  below it is presented in two fashions (the second is probably easier to read.  one in 'His & Hers' columns; anything appearing on the same line gets read simultaneously.  two in one combined entity; colors are used to decipher who is speaking and when (plus it looks more like a sonnet).  

(Added Note:  after much time has passed, I have had a chance to review my sonnet attempt only to uncover for it to be classified as such it needs some major work.  09/2012)


key to second presentation:  both, him, her


try reading just 'His' lines and just 'Her' lines....  i hope you enjoy this twist on a sonnet....

---

I must confess, you stole my heart at first sight	I must confess, you stole my heart at first sight
your beauty drew me
	a picture of true bliss I couldn't look away
and my heart couldn't dismiss the desire building
even had I tried to fight	even had I tried to fight
In that moment I was lost in an abyss	In that moment I was lost in an abyss
the world disappearing
	all I wished was this to feel you in my arms
never felt so right	never felt so right
That day I stammered to catch my breath to speak	That day I stammered to catch my breath to speak
words you would remember
	words that filled my heart your smile disarmed me
your eyes distracted me
so that words stumbled and I felt foolish and meek	so that words stumbled and I felt foolish and meek
but with just one laugh
I knew	I knew this was the start of something wondrous
our love was meant to be	our love was meant to be

---

I must confess, you stole my heart at first sight
Your beauty drew me...a picture of true bliss
I couldn't look away...And my heart couldn't dismiss
The desire building...even had I tried to fight
In that moment I was lost in an abyss
The world disappearing...all I wished was this
To feel you in my arms...never felt so right 


That day I stammered to catch my breath to speak
words you would remember...words that filled my heart
your smile disarmed me...your eyes distracted me
so that words stumbled and I felt foolish and meek
but with just one laugh...I knew...this was the start
of something wondrous...our love was meant to be

0 Batch #2

Bursting with Pom Seeds
(image by rmp, tha's me)

i think it is time to assess where i currently stand with old pom seeds, and add some new ones to the mix.  from this point forward, all pom seeds that were posted in a previous batch (and up to that point had gone unused will reappear with links, where appropriate, to their sweet-tangy-tart creation) will be posted under 'Leftovers'.


Here goes...

---

Pom Seeds Batch #2

• colors seem to be following me; this morning I woke to...; this evening I fell asleep with...; and in the in-between... (found life with an leftover pom seed in a poem called Assaulting Colors)
• we were never friends; not really; how could we be; when all we did; was dance around each other
• my mom use to say; we're never lost; we're just misplaced
• i hate days like today; where i'm blindsided; punched in the chest; days when all i want to do is curl up into a little ball and disappear
• why did you make me?  what purpose could it serve?  was I the punchline to a joke?  was I the result of a lost wager?  were you intoxicated? (this tart number came to life as part of Jingle Poetry's Poetry Potluck; the prompt was Peace, Relaxation, and Spirituality, all of which i was missing in this poem entitled Forgive Me)
• "you're growing."; am I?  I don't think I'm growing; maybe just walking outside myself
• I feel like an outsider looking in; the warm embrace of acceptance elude

Leftovers

• pink sky, orange moon (i was thinking about joining this with, "I woke with rose colored glasses...") (in the end this seed joined forces with a seed from batch #2, see Assaulting Colors)
• Information overload
• I woke with rose colored glasses; and the world was as only I could dream it to be
• We were forbidden to speak; forbidden to meet one another's gaze; but what stolen glances could not sustain; our bodies spoke...  (inspired by a prompt from Poetry Potluck Monday about Languages, Signs & Symbols, it did not find its flavor in time to meet the deadline, but i'm hopeful it will still be a savory seed) (finally found life as part of Poetry Potluck Monday's theme Rules, Regulations, and Laws in a poem called Our Hearts' Refrain (Revised).)

7 Tinker

She ran her hand
over the abrasive surface
of his broken soul

He walled his heart
over a loss so strong
unwilling to hurt again

She knew deep in her heart
a handful of pixie dust
would not suffice

He knew she was different
and maybe that was good
still fear held him

She was a tinker
a fixer of sorts
He was broken
a lost little toy
If anyone could mend
the hurt inside
she was the one and
he was the prize

---

okay, so i saw 'handful' and the first thing that comes to mind is pixie dust...i cannot fathom why.  So i went with it.  i suppose it turned out okay...  Three Word Wednesday [3WW=>abrasive, handful, loss].

1 Fibs: Crazy

#1
I'm
mad.
crazy--
lock me up
throw away the key
kind of bizarro wackadoo--
I enjoy playing checkers with the man on the moon.
(but I refuse to play him at chess because he is a sore looser who likes to cheat)

#2
Look
here
you loon,
I'm not mad!
maybe a little
peculiar, a tad eccentric
but crazy, I most definitely, am no such thing.
(now excuse me while I give my pet rock a ring to tape all last week's new episodes.)

---

okay so apparently a "Fib" is meant to be 20 syllables...stopping at the seventh (non-zero) element of the Fibonacci sequence...but i couldn't help adding the next two elements in the sequence...


now technically Fibonacci poems can continue to follow the sequence until you're not sure where one line ends and another line begins.  i think i like the short and sweet kind...


inspiration for tackling this new form came from Inside My Poem Book's Experimenting with Poetry Form:  Fibonacci Poems.

8 Methods to Soothe Raging Emotions: Music Echoes

the war has begun deep within me

a battle i wage endlessly

risen from the ashes of my fears

it rages forth with no provocation

and pummels me tirelessly

when it hits i have only one recourse

one simple weapon at my disposal

>>|

(skip)

>>|

(skip)

music begins to soar through the air

a mission for the perfect song

composed to match my raging emotions

a beat--a rhythm--a vibration

to sync with the struggle that ensues

the perfect string of notes 

that ebb and flow with the tidal wave within me

>>|

(skip)

>>|

(skip)

the song echoes through my body

a rampant army of notes

that sing in harmony with my inner turmoil

the beat courses through my veins

melding with the rage that wishes to consume me

and ever so slowly
pulls me back to the calm surface

---

i find myself as of late far from a place of relaxation and peace.  and next to impossible to conjure them up for this weeks Jingle Poetry's Poetry Potluck [Peace, Relaxation, and Spirituality].  so, in this second attempt at meeting the theme, i find myself down a twisting and winding path.  your call on whether it hits the mark...


in this state, i find myself relying on a trusted friend (music) and an old poem (Methods to Soothe Raging Emotions).  this particular poem delves a little more into the impact music has on soothing my soul...and helping me find some form of peace...as temporary as it may be.


oh, and in case you are wondering...the musical notes spell out "music echoes."

6 forgive me

it has been a long and trying week; i took this theme down a path it was not expecting to go (nor i'm sure that it wished to go).  but this letting of words has always been my salvation; it pulls from my mind, body and soul all of the toxins that threaten to overpower.  so please forgive me the turn i have taken here (in anticipation of Jingle Poetry's Poetry Potluck [Peace, Relaxation, and Spirituality]).

---

Forgive Me

why did You make me?
what purpose could it possible serve?
was i the punchline to some joke?
was i the result of a lost wager?
were You intoxicated? drunk of Your ass?
am i the pawn is some twisted game?
are You waiting to see how long i'll play
before being sacrificed?

why did You make me like this?
cursed with selflessness, when all i wish is to be selfish;
boiling in constant turmoil, when all i wish for is tranquility;
burdened with endless pain, when all i wish is for peace.
i've checked the footprints in the sand,
there's only one set;
i've measured them,
their breadth, width and depth,
and they are mine, and mine alone.

all of this You have given me
this burden i carry alone
and still
i believe
still
i am filled with hope
still
i push forward praying
for the day i'll find balance
praying
that i'll finally understand
praying
that it is all worth it.
and i suppose that at least
i have that to be thankful to You for.
but You must forgive me,
because You've made it very hard for me
to be thankful
to You.

---

this poem haunts me in a way i cannot explain.  part of me wishes to wash it away.  delete it as though it never was.  i find myself struggling with its existence...odd when you consider that it speaks to my understanding of my own existence...  maybe my problem isn't with the poem so much as the opening up for others to see.  i'm torn...erase from existence, hide away from the world and myself, or let go...