A Better Offer

Offer

 it up they say;

offer your suffering

to the Lord for the sins of all.

But why would God want all that suffering?

Instead, why not offer up joy,

or a big belly laugh?

That’s a better

offer!

Image from edparton.com

As a kid when anything went wrong I was told this.  Is it just a Catholic thing?  This offering is actually for G-Man though, who is feeling bad enough to not host his usual FF55.  Hope you're laughing again soon!

Tangle (reading)

There is more

than sex and death,

black and white

There is

the smooth, firm curve of grey,

with infinite points along

the cusp

This is where we live –

in the tangle

amid agony that may

(at any moment)

 reveal

bliss

Here is my poem Tangle read by Avril Yospa.  Enjoy!


A Note: This poem has been posted earlier on my blog, here but when my friend with the lovely voice agreed to record it for me I decided to re-post it.  This was originally a Magpie Tale along with an absurd Top Ten List back in February.

On the Bus

One day in seventh grade

Robin made the mistake

of wearing white pants.

Her jacket wasn’t long enough to cover

the small, but spreading, red spot

on the seat of those white, white pants

as she got on the bus.

We weren't friends,
but there was no animosity between us.
Two boys snickered

and I turned away,

embarrassed for her.

It was only 7:15.

She had a long day ahead.

……..

I watched her get on the bus

to go home,

same white pants,

jacket tied at her waist.

She kept her head up,

as she walked toward

the back

staring defiantly,

not looking left or right,

not meeting my eyes.

She sat alone,

turned to stone,

as the taunts ricocheted off her.

Image: Red Roofs by Marc Chagall, 1954

I still remember this true-to-my-less-than-trustworthy-memory vividly.  I still feel so sorry and embarrassed for the 12 year old girl I sort-of knew.  And I still feel bad that I was too afraid to speak out on her behalf.  I hope she doesn't remember this as well as I do.  The writing prompt that brought this memory back to me can be found at The Mag.  The poem, along with many others, can also be found at dVerse open link night.

Another Triolet

I lower the shutters behind my eyes

so no one can see what’s missing,

blindly beguiled by a clever disguise.

I lower the shutters behind my eyes

and hold your attention between my thighs

with wine, cabaret and kissing.

I lower the shutters behind my eyes

so no one can see what’s missing.




This triolet is exactly 55 words, so I offer it to FF55 where G-man offers, and asks for 55 words about anything at all.  The triolet is a short poem of eight line with only two rhymes used throughout.  The first line is repeated in the fourth and seventh lines; the second line is repeated in the final line.  This gives a deceptively simple appearance: ABaAbAB, where capital letters indicate repeated lines.  

Precocious - Group Poem

Some claim April rain                            (Grace of Words like foam on the waves)
brings the blossoms of May, but
trees here are hasty


like youth, ardor unrestrained               (( Margaret - Art Happens 365)
eager for springs first sweet kiss


Sakura blossoms                                    (Kerry O'Connor of Skylover)
In the arms of old man tree
Drops of moonlit milk


showgirls will perform a dance             Ella's Edge
inspired by Moon light's embrace


her graceful waves in                            Laurie Kolp Poetry
a risque spring ballet, legs
kick the darkened sky


stars wink at rainbow feathers              Susie Clevenger of Confessions of A L. G.
that tease with each fluttering

My full heart flutters,                           Me

I become dancer and dance

under April’s moon

Imaginary Garden with Real Toads is having us do a group poem!  It's called a renga, and has an alternating syllable pattern in the stanzas of 5-7-5 / 7-7.  The challenge is presented by Grace, who did the first stanza.  I am the 7th participant.  Take a look at the whole thing, and the details by clicking on the Imaginary Garden link, and join the fun!

Happy Easter

The greatest gift of Easter is hope.   -Basil Hume

Image: henrykisor.blogspot.com

A-muse-ing Assistant

When I write, Otis

is constant inspiration

and impediment 




Check out the Purple Treehouse for more humor.

Archimede's Lover

 Where do I place the

 fulcrum

  to move

heaven         and          earth

 for

 you?

Image: engraving from Mechanics Magazine London, 1824

Meanwhile

     
     What will be recalled

     through distant times and places?

     A throw-away phrase

     could linger on for ages

     in the mind of another.

Doctor, Doctor!

I’m waiting for a magic box

to take me far away from here

with just one key for all its locks.

I’m waiting for a magic box

to turn back time and foil the clocks.

I’ll step inside and disappear.

I’m waiting for a magic box

to take me far away from here.

This form is a triolet: eight lines with only two rhymes used throughout. The first line is repeated in the fourth and seventh lines; the second line is repeated in the final line.  Only the first two end-words are used to complete the tight rhyme scheme: ABaAabAB, where capital letters indicate repeated lines.


This is for Real Toads where you can go to read some wonderful poetry.

Nesting

    He sits

    knitting a house of sticks

    to stave off harpies

    who would

    pluck his bloody,

    still beating heart

    from the vest pocket

    where he keeps it,

    wrapped

    in a monogramed

    handkerchief.

Check out The Mag for more responses to this curious image.

Image by ParkeHarrison