Thursday

National Poetry Month Farewell


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National Poetry Month Farewell

Whew! Today marks the final day of Poetry Month with daily poetry postings (at least once a day). Entries have included free verse, haikus, limericks, sestinas, sonnets and more.

Although I certainly plan to keep writing and publishing poetry, I think this presents an opportune moment to pause and reflect upon a most a-muse-ing month. It’s time to give the month of May the green light.


A Muse for a Month –
Free Lines Conversed for Two Fortnights’ Dispersed

Two fortnights of fanciful fun –

Musing and amusing,
Crumbling discarded drafts
Like the season’s last flakes
Of fragile frost,
Sending scraps adrift.

Pushing past parcels
Of projects and proposals,
Dismissing deadlines,
While tenderly touching
The poem in my pocket.

Farewell, fair April.

Your poetic marathon
Has touched the tape.

May flowers beckon,
Their petals peeking
Beneath the unfurling firmament above.

Does weather mean more
To a poet
Or a gardener?


Posted for a variety of prompts:
CafĂ© Writing (“weather means more to a gardener”)
Easy Street Prompts (“green light”)
Inspire Me Thursday (“push”)
Meme Express (“poem” and “pocket”)
Poetic Asides (April P.A.D. Challenge – a farewell poem)
Read Write Poem (NaPoWriMo – What are you listening to or writing about?)

Wednesday

Fowl Call

Fowl Call


Never Trust a Mockingbird –

Rhyming Spells on One Who Tells


I don’t think I can quite contain

The dizzy feeling, like champagne,

That overtakes me, full enthrall,

Each time a mockingbird may call.


Authentic secrets may be told

When he his beak does yet unfold.

Though lovable, he mocks what’s dear

By hawking gems for all to hear.


No fickle finch, he’s all afoot

To spill our stories, sow our soot.

Each quarrel, opportunity

For mockingbird’s impunity.


This feathered gossip finds a roost

And soon his gabby beak is loosed.

He’ll exercise Amendment right

On any ears within his sight.


What service may a secret bring,

If mockingbird begins to sing?

Mere life and peace will quickly flee

At his deliberate decree.


I wonder, does he mock all folk

Or only those he may provoke?

Herein’s the mystery, tale tall.

He’s not a mockingbird at all.


Posted for a variety of prompts:

Catchwords (“lovable,” “soot,” “authentic” and “secret”)

Meme Express (“mockingbird”)

Poetic Asides (April P.A.D. Challenge – “Never _____”)

Read Write Poem (NaPoWriMo – “I don’t think I can”)

Three Word Wednesday (“opportunity,” “quarrel” and “service’)

Totally Optional Prompts (“exercise”)

Weekend Wordsmith (“champagne”)



Love poetry? Check out Simply Snickers, a brand-new weekly poetry prompt. Try your hand with weekly prompts! Or, look into The Meme Express for daily blogging prompts.


Click here to visit Linda Ann Nickerson’s poetry and humor blog, Nickers and Ink.


Throughout 2009, please join us at The Heart of a Ready Writer, a Bible reading and devotional blog, as we read through the entire Bible in chronological order.


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Tuesday

Barely Thinking

Barely Thinking


“A great many people think they are thinking

when they are really rearranging their prejudices.”

William James

American philosopher and author

(1842 - 1910)


“The way you think determines the way you feel,
and the way you feel determines the way you act.”
Rick Warren

American pastor (Saddleback Church)

and author (The Purpose-Driven Life)

(1954 - )


Bearing Up

A Sestina Story of Vainest Glory


I.

At first impression, any old bear

Might just meander mossy trails,

Ignoring growth at every stage

And how his rantings might be read.

Perchance he’d pause a spell and stop,

If only he had sense to think.


II.

His roaring, worse than one might think,

Far more than forest folks can bear,

May seem impossible to stop,

Discarding disappointment in its trails.

For grizzled grumblings are always read

As violent affronts for every stage.


III.

The origins of rage may find a stage,

No matter what a furry brute may think.

At least, that’s how the story read.

For sometimes, tempers are difficult to bear,

Laying loads upon those sharing trails.

Blundering beasts know not when to stop.


IV.

Still, even urgent ursines must stop

When damages have reached a final stage.

They cannot paw back evidence’s trails

As easily as one might like to think.

Someday, the consequences they must bear

When nature’s verdicts certain are read.


V.

Occasionally, brutish force sees red,

Exceeding every spirit’s whispered stop.

A fevered force consumes the burly bear,

And he insists on claiming center stage,

Not caring what an onlooker may think,

Nor wondering how he’s strayed from the trails.


VI.

Creation offers reason for its trails,

Which signal wise direction when they’re read.

The sojourner must only heed and think

Avoiding drooling prowlers with no stop.

Thus, passing through the perils at each stop,

Each traveler the dangers they may bear.


VII.

A forest scout may think twice on the trails,

Before a brawny bear has peace misread.

He may refuse to stop at such a stage.



Posted for a variety of prompts:

Heads or Tails (down on the farm)

…In Other Words… (William James quote)

In Other Words (Rick Warren quote)

Meme Express (“Pick-a-Prompt”)

Poetic Asides (April P.A.D. Challenge – sestina or poem about sestinas)

Pumping Your Muse (“first impressions”)

Read Write Poem (NaPoWriMo – “seeing red” or “red”)

Simply Snickers (“stage” and “stop”)


Love poetry? Check out Simply Snickers, a brand-new weekly poetry prompt. Try your hand with weekly prompts! Or, look into The Meme Express for daily blogging prompts.


Click here to visit Linda Ann Nickerson’s poetry and humor blog, Nickers and Ink.


Throughout 2009, please join us at The Heart of a Ready Writer, a Bible reading and devotional blog, as we read through the entire Bible in chronological order.


Click here to subscribe to an RSS feed for this writer's helpful Helium content. If you wish, click here for a free subscription to this author's online AC content, so you won't miss a single post!


Add to Technorati Favorites

Monday

Someone’s Tapping on Mom’s Shoulder


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Someone’s Tapping on Mom’s Shoulder

This poem is dedicated to my family, particularly during National Poetry Month, when I have perhaps spent more time than usual at the computer. Composing and publishing daily poems for a variety of poetry prompts, poetry websites and poetry contests has kept me tied to the keyboard a bit.

Don't worry, kids. Mom will be back soon. After all, National Poetry Month will only last for a few more days. Of course, there's always next year!

Keys to My Heart –
A Child’s Rhyme for Equal Time

Dear Mom: You need to monitor
The moments spent online.
It’s not that I’m at all bitter;
I just thought you were mine
Till publishing and networking
Absorbed attention lost.
I linger by your side, lurking
With all my fingers crossed.
But flashing monitor arrays
My mother have enticed.
I guess I knew the truth always –
P.C.’s the antichrist.
c2009 by Linda Ann Nickerson

Posted for a variety of prompts:
AC (ode to a piece of technology)
Easy Street Prompts (“denial”)
Poetic Asides (April P.A.D. Challenge – poem/s of longing)
Read Write Poem (NaPoWriMo)
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