I want to run in ten directions, want to pull my taffy limbs to the desert, the mountain, the coast, let myself fray, if I must, to be everywhere at once, which is absurd, if I refuse to be the one place I actually am. Photo by Jamie Street
I love this Rebekah. Yur poem is evocative and shares a sense of true beauty, a tone of hope and a hint of sadness and letting go. What a gift to embody all of those in one beautiful poem.
This really resonates as a fellow human who was born in the 70's, in the days when climate "change" was already underway but not yet acknowledged very widely. I love the opening lines..."I came in the later years/when the place was dogeared from too much attention." Your poem evoked a deep sadness (in the best possible way) about the reality we find ourselves in.
Your poems are always so full of tenderness and love, Larry! Reading them, I feel like I relax into the possibility of a gentler, kinder world. Both of this poems are lovely. Something about the lines "the night too thick / for that kind of walk" felt so delicious to me that I read it several times over.
Thank you Lisa. Sorry to inundate with two longish poems! They just came out. I will add that this wonderful space continues to give me hope in these perilous time with the insight, creativity and beauty offered by these delightful poets!
#1 hit me in the feels as the kids say ;) (is that what they say, lol).
"There is a place for you,
dear children,
beyond the quiet meadows
of your origins.
May you find them safely
on this winding journey,
and know,
no matter how far your circles take you,
there is always a place for you
here, in the homelands of our hearts."
Adult children (or adultish children) who still want to come home (or stay home) I suppose should be a testament to their fond memories of that place. I have one who has been flapping around outside the nest for 2 years now and is married and making it (sometimes barely) and the other who has not launched yet (despite her master's degree). Sometimes it makes me feel like I am still in flux myself.
What a wise and thoughtful reflection and perspective, Karri. LIfe seems to be flux even when it at its most tranquil and peaceful. I expect your children are carrying the love and wisdom you have shared and will keep sharing!
Though singular, these poems share a real poignancy, Larry. The first one made me think of the travails that today's young adults face in trying to find their way in the troubled times of climate and housing crises, political unrest, systemic oppression and gun violence (among other things). Beautiful that you are issuing them this wish to find their own place, even as they have a forever homeland in your heart(s). And I deeply appreciate the second poem's sensitivity to the reality that many homes are not happy origin points and its beautiful prayer for that not to be so.
Oh my goodness, the beginning and ending lines slayed me with pure delight! "I know my place / it is with the trees . . . how deeply I can breathe / into every woody bit of me."
Oh I love this, Keith! Just dripping with poetry in every dimension: the feelings, the nature, the assonance, the wordplay ('radically'!). "Never doubted nor doubtful, just / believed." I hear you loud and clear and it is a wonderful resonance.
Oooooh, Keith! This is magical. I love the idea of being in the "custody of their canopy," and how, from that place, you can know/feel yourself more deeply.
I'm trying to decipher the intended meaning of the word "cum" here, which has me giggling. I love the universality of this question you pose, and the voice-y way you go about it.
I LOVE your poem, Lisa. So much said in such a short space, and so acoustically and semantically beautiful. Here’s what your prompt brought forth from me:
Thank you, Mike, and your poem is beautiful! I love the sound and rhythm of these lines - "days of rest we wrest / from the tired jaws of our / usual blaze of aching sweat." The images of Carmel took me to such a happy place - you describe it perfectly. Growing up, we had family friends with a second home there, and so we visited regularly. It must be a decade now since I've been back, though. What a treat to visit again through your poem!
Thank you! This past weekend was the second time my wife and I spent a getaway in Carmel, and the first time we had more than one night off of parenting since our second child was born over two years ago. Everything in the poem is nonfiction, though some poetic license has been taken in the exact location we kissed. :)
I love the way this poem expresses the power that place has over one's emotional experience and to widen one's ability to experience and receive another. Really exquisite. I also appreciated the artistry of your undulating format. It really fortified my sense of it being a seaside place.
Thank you, Keith! Yes, these shape poems aren't always what I write, but what a delight when the words spilling forth in a draft begin to have a particular shape. That's when I like to harness it and continue to shape it, although it makes editing significantly harder. I'm up for the challenge! Thank you so much for reading and relating.
Sculpting the lines (aka editing) to get the shape of the words to echo the essence of the poem is true art, Mike. And it is a delight to read, so I'm glad it delights you as the sculptor, too!
This is beauitful Mike, and I really like the cadence, rhythm and framing, and the picture and pattern you draw with your words. Carmel is a beautiful place, and this poem does it and the love it describes great honor.
I love the interweaving of past and present here. I feel like that's been a theme (and such a good one!) in a few of your recent poems. It's really interesting to me, too, how a place you've never lived can feel so fully like home . . . that is definitely an experience I share!
Karri, this is wonderful! I can’t feel and relate to that yearning, and the way a place can feel like home. You give life to that feeling with your words, and the astute acknowledgment that we often don’t know why. I hope you find your way to Eureka Springs often!
I have always lived in this state, if not this town, and it is home to me but I do feel certain ways about places I visit, so I need to think on this a bit.
And not being where I actually am is my Achilles heel - so I feel that acutely!
Another remarkable, moving and resonant poem from you, Lisa! How do you do it? I love this prompt, and that notion of how we can resonate with other places even when we live our home place. Your poems are some of the best parts of my day!
I love the image of you with taffy limbs, trying to be everywhere except (as it turns out) where you actually are.
.
Here’s mine:
.
I came in the later years,
when the place was dogeared
from too much attention
and heating up.
.
Still, I found a pocket
to pretend in,
wild enough for wolves.
But for Starlink, it could be
the day of my birth,
before the critical junctures,
before all possible futures
converge.
.
If I hold my breath, it’s like
the birds haven’t been told
to stop coming back.
The trees don’t know to burn.
I just keep coming back to "the trees don't know to burn...." very lyrical and almost haunting.
I love this Rebekah. Yur poem is evocative and shares a sense of true beauty, a tone of hope and a hint of sadness and letting go. What a gift to embody all of those in one beautiful poem.
This really resonates as a fellow human who was born in the 70's, in the days when climate "change" was already underway but not yet acknowledged very widely. I love the opening lines..."I came in the later years/when the place was dogeared from too much attention." Your poem evoked a deep sadness (in the best possible way) about the reality we find ourselves in.
The description of a place being dog-eared is so unexpected and I love it!
I struggled to write one poem and somehow two popped out. Begging your pardons, I share them both!
There is a Place for You
^
Late night call
rising heartbeats and surge of fear,
man child voice whispers
“I want to come home.”
Another river to cross
In this ever evolving journey
of parenting.
^
“You’re 5 hours away,” I say,
and the night too thick
for that kind of walk.
Pivot to plan B, or is it C or D,
first year college journey,
twisting into a labyrinth
of the dreams we thought we shared.
^
Noah speaks of a class he is taking
“The Nature of Place,”
and the bright epiphany
that his beloved home
of warmth, care and love
is not so easily replicated.
^
Entry level reflections
for conversations through the years
of sacred place and space,
community and home,
belonging and be-loved,
until that moment
when a place becomes
a home.
^
There is a place for you,
dear children,
beyond the quiet meadows
of your origins.
May you find them safely
on this winding journey,
and know,
no matter how far your circles take you,
there is always a place for you
here, in the homelands of our hearts.
#2 There’s No Place Like Home…
^
They say
there’s no place like home,
a happy meaning implied,
but some homes
sit in shadows,
overcome by darkness and grey light,
bitter words and violent outbursts;
Spirals of dysfunction and decay
no safe places to hide.
Where the home that should be
Is out beyond the rainbows.
May this quiet poem
be as a prayer,
that all homes be
formed in loving kindness,
safe places and spaces,
dens of peace and compassion,
sanctuaries and sacred spaces
birthing shining seeds of true love.
Your poems are always so full of tenderness and love, Larry! Reading them, I feel like I relax into the possibility of a gentler, kinder world. Both of this poems are lovely. Something about the lines "the night too thick / for that kind of walk" felt so delicious to me that I read it several times over.
Thank you Lisa. Sorry to inundate with two longish poems! They just came out. I will add that this wonderful space continues to give me hope in these perilous time with the insight, creativity and beauty offered by these delightful poets!
#1 hit me in the feels as the kids say ;) (is that what they say, lol).
"There is a place for you,
dear children,
beyond the quiet meadows
of your origins.
May you find them safely
on this winding journey,
and know,
no matter how far your circles take you,
there is always a place for you
here, in the homelands of our hearts."
Adult children (or adultish children) who still want to come home (or stay home) I suppose should be a testament to their fond memories of that place. I have one who has been flapping around outside the nest for 2 years now and is married and making it (sometimes barely) and the other who has not launched yet (despite her master's degree). Sometimes it makes me feel like I am still in flux myself.
What a wise and thoughtful reflection and perspective, Karri. LIfe seems to be flux even when it at its most tranquil and peaceful. I expect your children are carrying the love and wisdom you have shared and will keep sharing!
I enjoyed the journey of both of these pieces! I can tell you are a kind and wise dad.
Thank you Mike, what a nice comment. Our adult children may agree with you now, not always when they were becoming!
Though singular, these poems share a real poignancy, Larry. The first one made me think of the travails that today's young adults face in trying to find their way in the troubled times of climate and housing crises, political unrest, systemic oppression and gun violence (among other things). Beautiful that you are issuing them this wish to find their own place, even as they have a forever homeland in your heart(s). And I deeply appreciate the second poem's sensitivity to the reality that many homes are not happy origin points and its beautiful prayer for that not to be so.
Thank you Keith, for your thoughtful commens and for always reading with such wisdom and clear insight. What a gift!
The idea of pulling one's limbs like taffy to stretch to all the places that pull...pure delight :)))
*
I know my place.
It is with the trees.
With them, I sense myself known.
Never doubted nor doubtful, just
believed. Entirely.
There, rooted securely
under custody of their canopy,
I am radically received. And
I am surprised, again and again
by how deeply I can breathe
into every woody bit of me.
Oh my goodness, the beginning and ending lines slayed me with pure delight! "I know my place / it is with the trees . . . how deeply I can breathe / into every woody bit of me."
Yay! Thanks, friend :))
Oh I love this, Keith! Just dripping with poetry in every dimension: the feelings, the nature, the assonance, the wordplay ('radically'!). "Never doubted nor doubtful, just / believed." I hear you loud and clear and it is a wonderful resonance.
Thank you, Mike - so glad you found it resonant and assonant :))
Oooooh, Keith! This is magical. I love the idea of being in the "custody of their canopy," and how, from that place, you can know/feel yourself more deeply.
Thanks, Rebekah...amongst the trees may be the only time I willingly surrender to custody!
This is splendid, Keith, What a glorious ode to trees, and to the earthy wood like natures of humans. Thank you!
Thanks, Larry! I do believe we humans are elemental, just like everything else in nature!
I echo that!
I love this tribute to trees and your connection to them!
I'm so glad :)) - thanks for letting me know, Karri.
I love every line of this, Keith.
I'm not the boss of me.
You always make that call.
.you.
hungry.
drugged.
scared.
pennyless.
protective.
confused.
competitive.
defensive.
arrogant.
sad.
or
maybe just another fuckin' nut
with a cause and a gun.
.you.
you decide my quarry,
I go only where your weapon aims,
praying often to my god
for the chance to choose my own path.
.
This is so powerful, Chuck! It hit me right in the gut.
This is quite powerful, Chuck, and its power seems amplified by the events of last evening.
a dream that i was a bullet
woke me up this morning
Oh wow, Chuck, this is great.
Wow Chuck....that hit hard.
A DANG-IT FROM THE PORCH
.
.
"How cum where I'm at
Ain't never at the same where
I yearn to be at?"
I'm trying to decipher the intended meaning of the word "cum" here, which has me giggling. I love the universality of this question you pose, and the voice-y way you go about it.
Ha.
Jus' sum good ol' boys ponderin' and sippin' the evenin' away, &
that's all I'm sayin' 'bout that.
I LOVE your poem, Lisa. So much said in such a short space, and so acoustically and semantically beautiful. Here’s what your prompt brought forth from me:
.
Carmel-by-the-Sea
.
I find myself
in a misty maze
of old oak branches,
cobblestone pathways
built carefully around trunks,
archways to secret passageways,
pergolas built for love and comfort,
verdant veins of vines growing alongside
wood grains with the indescribable beauty of
markings in jade and rippling waves.
.
Here, where the guitarristas
serenade, the gulls call
their mates, and we
finally have
a place
.
to breathe
and to make
the best of these
days of rest we wrest
from the tired jaws of our
usual blaze of aching sweat.
.
Here, there is a stillness yet to be
fully uncovered, a luxury of smiles and
antique turnstiles, half-doors open only
from ten to four, hidden bookstores,
fireplaces prepared to light and
delight at a moment’s notice.
.
Embraced by this paradise,
I find you, more beautiful
than ever, and we kiss
beneath the moonlit
boughs of dark
warmth and
mysterious
bliss.
Thank you, Mike, and your poem is beautiful! I love the sound and rhythm of these lines - "days of rest we wrest / from the tired jaws of our / usual blaze of aching sweat." The images of Carmel took me to such a happy place - you describe it perfectly. Growing up, we had family friends with a second home there, and so we visited regularly. It must be a decade now since I've been back, though. What a treat to visit again through your poem!
Thank you! This past weekend was the second time my wife and I spent a getaway in Carmel, and the first time we had more than one night off of parenting since our second child was born over two years ago. Everything in the poem is nonfiction, though some poetic license has been taken in the exact location we kissed. :)
Those little times away from kids when they are young always felt like such a discovery to me . . . oh, there's still this whole other self in there!
I love the way this poem expresses the power that place has over one's emotional experience and to widen one's ability to experience and receive another. Really exquisite. I also appreciated the artistry of your undulating format. It really fortified my sense of it being a seaside place.
Thank you, Keith! Yes, these shape poems aren't always what I write, but what a delight when the words spilling forth in a draft begin to have a particular shape. That's when I like to harness it and continue to shape it, although it makes editing significantly harder. I'm up for the challenge! Thank you so much for reading and relating.
Sculpting the lines (aka editing) to get the shape of the words to echo the essence of the poem is true art, Mike. And it is a delight to read, so I'm glad it delights you as the sculptor, too!
What a beautiful poem about what sounds like a beautiful place and a beautiful time!
Thanks, Karri!
This is beauitful Mike, and I really like the cadence, rhythm and framing, and the picture and pattern you draw with your words. Carmel is a beautiful place, and this poem does it and the love it describes great honor.
Thank you so much, Larry!
I have to echo what Keith said about the form of your poem - it really adds to the sense of place.
Thank you! You can see the final version with photos and voiceover here: https://open.substack.com/pub/mikesperiosu/p/carmel-by-the-sea?r=286g6m&utm_medium=ios
Beautiful! Thank you for sharing!
Back in one of my fave places for a couple days with my mom.
Eureka Springs
I don’t know why I love it so,
This quirky stair step town.
Winding streets and endless steps,
Lead north and south; up and down.
..
Past and present overlap,
Have I lived this before?
Smell of incense in the shops,
Creaking wooden floors.
..
Grotto Spring, Basin Park,
The Crescent on the hill.
Spirits linger so they say,
A thin place in the veil.
..
Each time that I am near this town,
I feel the draw to go.
Eureka! I have found the place.
My soul yearns to call home.
I love the interweaving of past and present here. I feel like that's been a theme (and such a good one!) in a few of your recent poems. It's really interesting to me, too, how a place you've never lived can feel so fully like home . . . that is definitely an experience I share!
Yes! I am very much in that place right now!
This ode to Eureka Springs is nothing short of enchanting, Karri. I want to visit after reading it!
You come to Arkansas and we’ll make a weekend of it!
This poem is my favorite of yours Karri. Past and present overlap…a thin place in the veil…beautiful.
Thank you so much Billy!
I love this, Karri. It makes me want to see it as well.
Karri, this is wonderful! I can’t feel and relate to that yearning, and the way a place can feel like home. You give life to that feeling with your words, and the astute acknowledgment that we often don’t know why. I hope you find your way to Eureka Springs often!
I love this:
"let myself fray,
if I must, to be
everywhere at once"
Thank you so much, Margaret!
I have always lived in this state, if not this town, and it is home to me but I do feel certain ways about places I visit, so I need to think on this a bit.
And not being where I actually am is my Achilles heel - so I feel that acutely!
I think that's an Achilles heel for like 99% of us! Or at least I try to comfort myself with that thought.
I love this poem and prompt. I'm going to explore that this week. Such a rich subject.
Wishing you fruitful explorations! If you care to share what you come up with, I'd love to read it.
Another remarkable, moving and resonant poem from you, Lisa! How do you do it? I love this prompt, and that notion of how we can resonate with other places even when we live our home place. Your poems are some of the best parts of my day!
And your comments are some of the best parts of my day! Thank you, Larry.
Great one!
Thanks so much, David!
All wonderful poems. Chuck kicking it off maybe my favorite one! This poem was from memory of a different life possibly? Post WW1 Russia.
https://open.substack.com/pub/billy2r6q7/p/art-and-the-red-star?r=1nyjrs&utm_medium=ios
Such rich imagery! This is lovely, Billy.
Thanks for reading Lisa.