37 Comments

So glad you are flowing like water in response to your own needs and limitations, just as you have so generously encouraged me to do with my participation here. Lately I have been at a trickle with my poetry because other "currents" have directed my flow (and my floes) elsewhere. Hope to increase my presence here again in 2025 to at least an occasional contribution. It was such an honor to be one of your first subscribers here. Congratulations on meeting your 100 poems goal, friend! 🥳🎉💝

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Thank you so much, friend! We each have to flow with our own current, and I know yours is directing you to essential and right-for-you things. AND I’ll be so delighted if/when that river washes a few of your poems here into this community again! I’m so grateful for how you’ve already helped to shape this space, though. ❤️

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I'm here, too. Missing all of you and hoping to get back to writing more poetry after the new year. 🧡

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A. I love your poetry and writing g, and even more your insight and wisdom.

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I 100% agree, Keith. I miss your poems and your kind and thoughtful presence, but love finding you in the prose world! There are some tremendous writers like you hanging about in here!

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I read Lisa's poem and prompt rioght as Ileftfor work this afternoon, and dark began to fall (it comes early here in winter in Northern New England) turning onto our road, I noticed a light rhrough the trees and was greeted by a new full moon rising. Later, as I began to yawn and grow weary, this poem showed up.

Full Moon Serenade

^

Shimmering light rising from the mist,

winter evening of deep cold,

earth putting the day to bed

as the wild ride of night begins.

^

The moonrise, breathless in its entry,

is full and beaming tonight,

belying the chaos right below

the veneer of our cultural compulsions.

^

I pull the car over near the house,

walk to the shoreline,

cold mist rising from Great Bay waters,

a promise of hope, an offering for peace,

a calling for our best heart songs to emerge.

^

I say a quiet prayer for the earth,

for the beings who thereon dwell.

My kindreds battered by persecution, ignorance,

hatred and lies;

those reviled and battered by the forces of madness.

^

Tonight this prayer is a soul poem

for love to emerge like this full moon

over shadow waters,

turning the world upside down,

that swords turn to ploughshares,

bitterness becomes beauty,

despair sets like the morning moon,

forgiveness finally emerges

into the morning symphony of dawn.

Dawn’s first light a promise

a new beginning,

a love that never ends.

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“For love to emerge like this full moon

over shadow waters,

turning the world upside down” - such a beautiful image and such a beautiful poem!

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Thank you Lisa! I really appreciate your thoughtful insights and how you find something in each poem to lift. You have such wonderful gifts.

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This is a mighty and magnificient poem! I truly love the story you weave. And this stanza

"If God was watching,

he must have seen me

break apart.

If God is watching,

he must see I am still

breaking apart,

still finding my way

back to water. "

This is one of the finest intact stanzas I have read. And its heart and spirit touched me deeply.

I love the story you tell in the prompt of Rebekah and you diving in and trying to see who could push the berg to the shore first. And that your guide in all his years had never seen such joyful abandon! We'll leave it to mystery as to who won, or perhaps it will find its way into a poem!

Personally, I have never perceived God as a gendered being, especally the mean and angry dude who still terrorizes our society.

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Gender seems like a pretty limited and limiting construct for a deity, doesn't it? Thank you for all your kind words, Larry. I'm so glad that stanza resonated with you!

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I did not write this, my friend stefanie did but it showed up like one minute after your post so i figured you two needed to meet.

Dear Child

said God

Interrupting the fretting

Busting through the worry

Barging in on my thoughts of what-the-fuckery

God

I gasped

I’m so glad you’re here.

She looked at me, expectantly

I know you’re always here

I said hurriedly

But really hear

with me ready to listen

Good

said God

As I was saying

Let your broken heart rest.

Let your sister be.

I’ve got her safe in my arms.

She will be safe inside my dwelling

And if you are tempted to think otherwise

Know that I am God,

And everyone you fear is not.

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This is wonderful! Please tell your friend I said so. Thank you so much for sharing it here! “Barging in on my thoughts of what-the-fuckery.”

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Thank you Chuck! Please share with Stefanie she has a standing ovation from here. I love the alst tywo lines "Know that I am God (homage to Psalm 46) and everyone you fear is not." That is pure creative genius!

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“ calving cosmologies‘ I love that.

Watching the flower of creation bloom

With your WATERING your imagination

100 times in a year

A watering producing delicious fruits

Like calving cosmologies

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Thank you so much, Jim! I confess I was delighted when those words floated into my mind. ❤️

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And they delighted me and likely your sibling.

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“If God was watching,

he must have seen me

break apart.

If God is watching,

he must see I am still

breaking apart,

still finding my way

back to water.”

These lines just grabbed me…

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Thank you so much for sharing what spoke to you most! It's hard to know for sure what's working as a writer without feedback, as I'm sure you know. ❤️

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My son was born underwater and at home. Here is one way to tell that tale.

.

It was like Sea World in the living room:

I the star orca, buoyant and heaving,

displacing more water than ever before

as I ran through my tricks, the last of which

was to push onto the stage a whole new

marine mammal, sweet slippery boy,

who breached with his mouth open,

ready to get started. The crowd,

though small, went wild.

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👏 👏 👏 I am going wild with delight over the whimsy and magic of this poem! The star orca! 😂

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I adore this

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Extraordinary....

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Well, I'm sure you get half the credit, what with you having supplied half my DNA!

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Such fun all of it and especially to imagine two sisters in that bitterly cold water. How long ago were you crazy enough to do that? Here is one about water. https://westonpparker.substack.com/p/the-water

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Weston, I adore your poem! It spoke right to my water-loving heart! Give me an ocean, a lake, a stream, a pool - anything to float in - and I feel at home. Our ridiculous plunge into Aialak Bay was in 2013, so it's been 11 years. We were wee babies of 32 and 38 at the time, full of energy and thermoregulating capabilities!

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That is really impressive and thanks for adoring the poem. Here's the other water one but you may have read enough...

https://westonpparker.substack.com/p/in-august

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This is a very nice poem, Weston. I love what you do with water as reality and metaphor. I am from Virginia, Vrginia Beach. What lake did you grow up near?

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Thank you Larry. In Vienna, Virginia when it was a small "country" town. Our lake was only 10 acres, called Spring Lake but it was my entire universe and still forms a large part of my core as a human. Larry, I have tried to write about the lake but can only chip away at it, like trying to split a very large log. Here's the only other one about that place.

https://westonpparker.substack.com/p/in-august

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Weston, I know Vienna well! I went to JMU in Harrisonburg and so many folks were from Northern Virginia and what once were the country places around it. Vienna, Leesburg, Warrenton Herndon, Manassas were rural and countryside in my memory, but not so much now. Of course exploded in such a tsunami of development it seemed growing a farm or forest was lost every week.

Regardless, I enjoy your thought provoking and incisive poems and writing!

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I lived in Seward for a year - this poem made me miss that cold cold water and those beautiful blues

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Seward is such a magical place! I hope to go back - and hope you get to, too!

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Love this one! :) Keep it up!

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Thank you, Mark!! I'm challenging myself to write more narrative poems lately, and it's fun.

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We fell into stillness,

so thick and warm,

it melted the ice.

just wow. these lines are draping me in a blanket of awe. i want to be there to hear a "be quiet" so resonant

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Awww I'm so glad, faye! If you ever get the chance to paddle up to a glacier and watch it break apart, do it. I think there are a million other ways to melt into stillness, though, too.

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I read your beautiful poem and prompts a few hours after spending the afternoon gazing at a water fall in a rainforest over 60 million years old. The water was divided in two , each half like a water wheel moving in eternity. I swam in the pool beneath the falls, splashed alive by its ripples and spray , feeling blessed.

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Wow! Just reading your words and imagining what you’re describing makes ME feel blessed! What a gorgeous experience. Thank you for sharing, Sally!

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