July 28, 2011

A Peeling?

Prompt from Margo Roby: write about an epiphany
Prompt from Poetic Bloomings: write an etheree
Prompt from Poetic Asides: write about opposites
A fruit which once soured both senses and stomach is now acceptable to both; I randomly tried a few slices that were served to me, and found to my great surprise that they went down easily and stayed down quietly. And so, to my new-found acquaintance, the banana:

my nemesis
of pubescent years,
who offended taste buds,
distressed my sense of smell,
quashed my appetite for dinner:
then suddenly, all defenses fade!
wonderstruck, I eat my first banana.

July 24, 2011

Baby Steps

Prompt from Poetic Bloomings: write a goal-oriented poem
Prompt from Sunday Scribblings: distant 

As a note of explanation, I used to be quite active and a somewhat-avid hiker before I was diagnosed with Wegener's Granulomatosis. Since then, just walking around the block has been difficult at times... but I am finally finding the strength and capability to start hiking once again. I was able to do a 3-mile roundtrip moderately strenuous trail in the Smokies this past week, and it felt AMAZING. But I don't want to stop there. It's a dream of mine to improve to the point of hiking a few days on the Appalachian Trail or hiking through the Grand Canyon. Someday, hopefully!

Baby steps
up the mountainside,
single steps
crossing streams,
rock-strewn paths, pressing upward
to that distant peak.

Baby steps
through the hemlock woods,
pace marked by
passing trees,
hiking forward purposefully
to that distant end.

Baby steps
along life’s pathway,
plodding on,
step by step,
until that dream is realized,
that trail completed.

July 16, 2011

Autumn in July

July was lazing along all hot and humid, as it is wont to do in the Carolinas, until a "cold front" passed through yesterday... and we enjoyed some refreshing 60-degree weather and a light relaxing drizzle occasionally throughout the day. That in itself felt wonderful. But then we were out shopping, and saw "Christmas in July" products filling the shelves. It was like a little taste of November in the middle of summer. And now I am craving colored leaves, pumpkin spice lattes, and cider-scented candles...

Dash of nutmeg,
swirl of cinnamon,
cool drizzle on a shiny-hot day,
cider-scented thoughts
in midsummer haze-

midnight pumpkins,
parched grass crunching underfoot
like leaves in autumn,
ripe green apples
and sweet lemonade-

autumn in July,
like evergreen spice
drifting through the window,
sunshine splashing
 on the kitchen floor.

July 02, 2011

Left-Brained Poet

Photo Prompt from Magpie Tales: see below
I'll admit, this one had me stumped for a while. Adding to my perplexity was my focus on writing non-fiction the past few weeks. Researching, organizing, and analyzing - all the things that are opposite of feeling, imagining, and creating poetry. I've been stuck in left-brain mode for a while. Somehow, the struggle to balance the left and right sides, to both research facts and create poetry, fit so well with this image. I'm not really sure what it is supposed to be, or even what I think it is, but it somehow defines my left-brain/right-brain struggle.

Paint a picture with words,
add some color with phrases.

Play a tune within poetic form,
sing a melody with sentences.

Create a world through reality,
analyze a fantasy by imagination.

Structure a poem with artistic flair,
write a free-form verse with logic.

Compose a forest with particular trees,
describe the branches that fashioned Eden.

Draw systematically, calculate poetically,
analyze spontaneously, fantasize rationally:

Right-brained organizer,
Left-brained poet.