Clouds are white blankets, folded and stacked. Branches are arms, brown, thin, beckoning. Leaves are fingers snapping, crisping call to pay attention. Birds can be anything. They shape themselves to a black ship.
Lisa, one more thing and I apologize for my chatterbox brain tonight. One, I forgive you for popping my dream bubble about the Pushcart Prize. I keep waiting for them to be in touch.
Two, your note about this being the 97th poem brought elation and then...a wistful sadness. This journey through Kaitlin Curtice's Poem a Day in May then Jillian's Joy'swonderful taking up of that mantle and then youu carrying forth has taken me further than I ever dreamed and connected me with so many special and gifted soul seekers. No words can express my gratitude, but these will do for now. Thank you, Teacher!
This makes me so happy to hear, Larry! It’s always so interesting to me how that wistful sadness can weave together with joy. It makes me think about how white light contains every color. Sometimes I feel glimpses of that - every single feeling all at once.
Former student: "Larry. what is one of your favorite part of your week?" Me: "Opening and reading a new poem and prompt from Lisa Jensen!" No exaggeration, hyperbolic expansion or gratuitious offering! Surely one of the highlighs tof this past year has been being a part of this community and and being dirtected so marvelously and beautifully well by you!
This poem is superb! Your imagery is so powerful and vivid, creative and connecting. You paint an inviting picture, and then your last stanza is "Thunp! Got you!" It is an incredible poem, and the juxtaposition of tne unending qwith the beautiful imagery that precedes it is genius!
Yes, Lisa has certainly created a safe space for those that contribute—or even if one doesn’t but still writes—to just write without fear of being under the harsh lamp of criticism and judgement.
You just put a big smile on my face! The time I spend here in this little community, reading all your lovely poems and comments, is such a bright spot in my life, too. And I hope you’re patting yourself on the back, Larry, because you’ve been such a consistent participant here. If you haven’t written 100 poems yet this year (and I suspect you have), then you must be very close!
You’ve not only written almost 100 poems in a year, which is amazing, but also the poems are lovely and some just stunning. I hope there will be more poems next year.
Thank you so much, LeeAnn! The challenge with working toward a collection is that I've written so many poems I've lost track and forgotten that most of them exist. So there is a lot of sorting to do before I even think about polishing and arranging. Speaking of collections . . . I just ordered your chapbook! I'm really looking forward to reading it.
I’m so happy to hear that! Thank you! You don’t have to fit them all in one collection. You probably have a couple of collections with that many poems. It’s fun to rediscover our own poems after a period away.
I love the way you paint an emotional soundtrack into this poem, Jim! The poem feels so rich with color and sound, and your description of the desert is just beautiful.
This is a beauitful and moving poem, Jim. Epic in its scope, and so intimate and honest in its carriage. The imagary of your words paint such a vivid picture of two people on a journey. I like how you use the metaphor of music at the start, and the sweet simplicity of your ending. Well done!
Oh my, this poem is such fun! I love how you committed fully to the notion that you are a ghost, and then swept me up completely in the whimsical story of it. For the record, though, you are not allowed to become a ghost - ever! I need you here and fully embodied, thank you very much.
Holiday waistline :-) LOL! Oh my word, Lisa. That is priceless. Especially followed by "the length of your lifeline." At first, I thought that is a hard turn, but then I realized one more be a consequence of the other. Thanks for sharing! XO
Thanks, Danielle! I stand by the belief that every waistline is beautiful, with or without shape shifting, but my brain started playing with the word “line” and didn’t want to stop!
This is a beautiful poem, Lisa. Being a part of this community has been one of my favourite things this year. Even when I haven't been writing as much, just having this space was a comfort.
Lisa, one more thing and I apologize for my chatterbox brain tonight. One, I forgive you for popping my dream bubble about the Pushcart Prize. I keep waiting for them to be in touch.
Two, your note about this being the 97th poem brought elation and then...a wistful sadness. This journey through Kaitlin Curtice's Poem a Day in May then Jillian's Joy'swonderful taking up of that mantle and then youu carrying forth has taken me further than I ever dreamed and connected me with so many special and gifted soul seekers. No words can express my gratitude, but these will do for now. Thank you, Teacher!
This makes me so happy to hear, Larry! It’s always so interesting to me how that wistful sadness can weave together with joy. It makes me think about how white light contains every color. Sometimes I feel glimpses of that - every single feeling all at once.
Woof.🙂
A person in our largest NH city was referred to me recently, and I was able to meet her today. It was a shape shifting moment.
Blind Eyes
^
You have lived in darkness for so long,
shaming my constant chatter about light.
Your wide open eyes no longer seeing what they once did,
your heart and intuitive spirit have replaced
the visible with the spiritual,
so that you see with your whole being;
you feel the world in ways I’ll never know.
^
Climbing narrow, rickety stairs to your third floor apartment,
hearing stories of a life as if
they escaped from the latest bestseller.
Your resilient courage and the super hero
way you find joy even in the oppressive chokehold of
a society glorying its poverty.
A survivor rising out of the victim.
^
I shed tears as I listen
grateful that you cannot see
until you look up and say
“Let the tears flow; they are healing you and me;
there is no need to hide from the shadows.”
Aware on this bitter cold night of all you do not have
you showed me instead all that you do.
This is beautiful, Larry. It sounds like this encounter impacted you deeply. I love the lines “you see with your whole being;
you feel the world in ways I’ll never know.” Wow!
Thank you Lisa. I am reflecting in all kind of new and revitalized ways.
This made me tear up! So lovely, Larry. "There is no need to hide from the shadows" -- what a message and moment.
Thank you Rebekah! This journey is such a gift sometimes. 😀🧡
Former student: "Larry. what is one of your favorite part of your week?" Me: "Opening and reading a new poem and prompt from Lisa Jensen!" No exaggeration, hyperbolic expansion or gratuitious offering! Surely one of the highlighs tof this past year has been being a part of this community and and being dirtected so marvelously and beautifully well by you!
This poem is superb! Your imagery is so powerful and vivid, creative and connecting. You paint an inviting picture, and then your last stanza is "Thunp! Got you!" It is an incredible poem, and the juxtaposition of tne unending qwith the beautiful imagery that precedes it is genius!
Yes, Lisa has certainly created a safe space for those that contribute—or even if one doesn’t but still writes—to just write without fear of being under the harsh lamp of criticism and judgement.
Thank you, Jim! That’s what I’m trying to do, and I am so happy if it’s working!
You just put a big smile on my face! The time I spend here in this little community, reading all your lovely poems and comments, is such a bright spot in my life, too. And I hope you’re patting yourself on the back, Larry, because you’ve been such a consistent participant here. If you haven’t written 100 poems yet this year (and I suspect you have), then you must be very close!
You’ve not only written almost 100 poems in a year, which is amazing, but also the poems are lovely and some just stunning. I hope there will be more poems next year.
Thank you so much, LeeAnn! The challenge with working toward a collection is that I've written so many poems I've lost track and forgotten that most of them exist. So there is a lot of sorting to do before I even think about polishing and arranging. Speaking of collections . . . I just ordered your chapbook! I'm really looking forward to reading it.
I’m so happy to hear that! Thank you! You don’t have to fit them all in one collection. You probably have a couple of collections with that many poems. It’s fun to rediscover our own poems after a period away.
Very nice Lisa.
Thank you so much, Billy!
Love the idea of birds discussing the end times. (!)
Thank you! And I mean, how could they not?!
That is so true. Now all birds will be theologians and philosophers for me!
The murmuring...
:)
I love this, Lisa.
Thank you so much! 🐦
OK a quick composition
My Memories Changing
My memories keep changing
Different visions come and go
With different feelings
As background Music
Music sometimes sweet and tender
Sometime a dark and tempestuous dirge
Sometimes memories of her
Escapes its darkened cell
into the light my consciousness
Paints a past scene in different colors
Colors of intense life with passion
Or sometimes only black and white
Different memories that are always changing
Sweet evolving to sweeter
And sad evolving to bitter-sweet
Engrams always playing different clips
Today my memory of walking with you
Has a different musical score
Lots of strings, violins, cellos and violas
Brass accentuations on different movements
Punctuated by kettle drums
Today a walk with you in the desert
How different it seems
I noticed the saguaros
standing tall as always
with proper social distancing
Yet they were together
experiencing the warmth
of the morning light
cresting over crooked mountain ridges
together they experience
the seasons of the sun
the changing moons
with bridesmaid stars
the refreshing requisite rains
Today as many days
they experienced us
experiencing them in awe
as they quietly noticed
our passing by in peace
I love the way you paint an emotional soundtrack into this poem, Jim! The poem feels so rich with color and sound, and your description of the desert is just beautiful.
This is a beauitful and moving poem, Jim. Epic in its scope, and so intimate and honest in its carriage. The imagary of your words paint such a vivid picture of two people on a journey. I like how you use the metaphor of music at the start, and the sweet simplicity of your ending. Well done!
Sometimes I am a ghost, as when
the FedEx driver sweeps past me
to place the package by the door, or
Shan storms by on the trail without
a look or a nod, or my son doesn’t hear
the question. I had thought it was them,
but I would like to entertain that it’s
not, that I enjoy this life too much
to leave. I am an industrious
poltergeist. Everyday I make coffee,
stoke the fire, shovel snow. I haunt
no one but my own memory.
Here is where I used to watch you,
I tell the birds. Here is how I used to
write you, I tell the poem. Ah, how I
loved beer, I say as its sweet notes
find the sides of my late tongue.
I still pee, I still ski. The only thing
anyone would notice from
the outside is my apparent absence,
but don’t be fooled. My dogs
can see through thin air and
easily find me. It won’t bother me
if you track their gaze, and give me
a smile.
Oh my, this poem is such fun! I love how you committed fully to the notion that you are a ghost, and then swept me up completely in the whimsical story of it. For the record, though, you are not allowed to become a ghost - ever! I need you here and fully embodied, thank you very much.
Holiday waistline :-) LOL! Oh my word, Lisa. That is priceless. Especially followed by "the length of your lifeline." At first, I thought that is a hard turn, but then I realized one more be a consequence of the other. Thanks for sharing! XO
Thanks, Danielle! I stand by the belief that every waistline is beautiful, with or without shape shifting, but my brain started playing with the word “line” and didn’t want to stop!
I LOVE it! XO
I agree with Danielle. Holiday waistline is a keeper and worth a whole poem!
That "but today" was so sharp and bitter I felt it all over my skin. Beautiful read, Lisa.
What a delicious compliment! Thank you, Mahdi!
This is a beautiful poem, Lisa. Being a part of this community has been one of my favourite things this year. Even when I haven't been writing as much, just having this space was a comfort.
I’m so glad, A! Your participation has helped make this space what it is. Thank you for that! ❤️