Tuesday, March 20, 2018

Soul searching

i urge myself

be a candle wick
not a wax

my compass point is here,
there, everywhere

under the night sea of stars
or the open field of grassland

my journey is not over
my bowl is not filled
with answers

but with thorns and fallen
i love my womanhood- 
i pin a note: 
walk your own pace
and define your own season-

i urge myself

be a grain
of plenty, of solidarity

i join my prayers with you
bead upon bead
of comfort, solace, hope
threading under our skin
a mosaic of belongness
a colorful blanket, stitched with
our different stories

this temple is ours
in this home, i am corner-
stone, like my mother is,
like my grandmother was-

i urge myself

be a raindrop
into a sea of change

my future - welcoming
possibilities, with open palms

my past - sealed  
in a box, marked - forgiven
and dropped off-

my present - breathing 
the winter air is cold wine
pouring & bubbling last hurrah-
aware of spring's approaching

i urge myself 

be a seed 
in this garden of life

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Join us for a soul gazing experience, led by pub host Paul John Dear.  The pub doors open at 3pm EST.   Thanks for your visit.

Thursday, March 8, 2018

Women, be fierce!

My hands are a keeper of words that stays
green as spring.  Even when autumn sits
curled beyond my reach, I'm content to play
with spinning wheel.   I gather all my wits
to seed:   fire, mustard & apples. What fits
doesn't always happen as I tangle with dark comedy.
I am a weaver who stitches and flits
sad corners, cutting away the tragedy.
Underneath the labor of tiny leaves, I eye
waning hours to inhale solitude.  Though I smart   
from the toil and burdens, I don't cry.
We women are embroidered with an open heart.

Sun holds our faces as chalices.   Don't moan

our past nor fate.   We are not cast in stone.

Posted for OpenLinkNight - dVerse poets Pub - I reposted this poem (Bout Rimes poetry form)  in celebration of the International Women's Day today !    Cheers!!!!! 

Tuesday, March 6, 2018


In this box
are my gems 

rings and necklaces
of w o r d s
and   w o r d s 
unbounded and sloppy
and more  w o r d s
dear from my bosom, knotted
with care

remember me
with kindness 
when you see whiff of 
flying cotton c u r l

and at night
when you look up and see
pearl of the  m o o n-

i am right here with you

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub- Poetics:   Threads of Feelings, with guest host, Sarah Connor.  The theme is love tokens.   Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for your visit.

Thursday, March 1, 2018

Letter to dead roses

Dear Dead Roses,

Don't dance just yet
This warmth and sheen of gold
is just false spring
in the middle of winter season

Shake off those dead fur  
and your thorns-
they have lost their sting-

Don't fidget and sigh
spring will be here soon
garnishing green thumbs 
and roaring with the ocean
of rain   

Forget your old lovers,
and burrow deep beneath your darkness -
your seeds are counting bees 
your roots are raking new soil

Pure beauty
you are, flowering in sun's abundance

Sleep well in the perfume of snow.

Your Neighbors,

Quarreling Squirrels

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - We are writing letters today.  MTB is hosted by Bjorn Rudberg.  Pub doors open at 3 pm.  Thanks for the visit.

Tuesday, February 27, 2018

Postscript to our afternoon

the cooked peanuts with garlic crunches on your palm
while i spoon slowly the melting ice cream on my cup

silence flows and ebbs to the beat of ticking 
clock & waiter's eager scrubbing of wine glasses

outside the cafe, cars and the pedestrians tangle in
mess of miscues & missteps

the afternoon sun is mellow yellow, sinking 
behind the fan of leaves, crisp as neat bow tie

i flip away my lethargic mop of hair
and put my spoon down, drawing on long 

deep breath, knowing what to say
now, right now

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Hosted by guest bartender Sarah Russell.  Theme of Poetics is Finding Emotions and Concepts in Things.  Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Monday, February 26, 2018

Muted colors

the undertow of the water
heaves, curling my chest in brine

nerves of pain slices through me
as if escaping a firestorm

outside, the sun stumbles behind
muted clouds, scribbling jagged lines

my forehead
burning in sweat

a soliloquoy of uncertainty disturbs 
thin air

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille, a post of 44 words.  The selected word is Burn.  Thanks for hosting Victoria Slotto.   Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Thursday, February 22, 2018

The awakening

a voice inside your head
                  be still 

you dab
     clouds of cotton on your       spindled finger
you sleep
     on nest of tangled ferns        & castle of sorrows
you dream
     of that magical kiss under     ocean of stars

i tell you the voice inside my head

rest if you must, if you are tired

                   but wake up

remove the flax & flex
   your wobbling legs, stand-

be the 
that sways to the flutes of the wind          & wings away-
be the 
            moon, offering

its whole silver light,
even under claws of stormy sky-

and be that 
that dances with windy tresses                 & raises a glass

of margarita and says,

I have one heck of a story to tell!   

Sleeping Beauty's Dream by CATRIN WELZ-STEIN


Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight.  The pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Come and link up and read our poems.   I have written to last week's prompt by Lillian:  Inspired by Art

Thursday, January 25, 2018

Late January spell

Half moon, cradle of shadows and light
Needle our eyes to star-burst night
Thump our chests, mired in hemlock & brine
Half moon, cradle of shadows and light
Draw amber and seeds on our palms
We long for sunshine and rain clouds 

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Thursday, January 18, 2018

Earth, walk with me

To where  
my beloved home waits
crisp yellow by red sun 
and serenaded by ancient trees 
here, the smell of musk is spice
the heat is soup with bread
the fragrance of green 
are soft cotton sheets at night
and my eyes are opening at the 
first brush of light
and flight of small wings

Earth, remind me
of dawn's pink sparkle
dispelling fingers of darkest night
of fresh scent of rain
on faces of wild berries 
I want to shrink, sink 
into your chest of silence
turn me into a stone or grain
it matters not
beside the rolling river,
I am pure 
beating heart-

The above poem was inspired by this Pablo Neruda's poem illustrated below:

Turn me oh sun
towards my native destiny,
rain from the ancient forest,
return to me the fragrance and the swords
that fall from the sky,
the solitary peace of field and rock,
the moisture at the margins of the river,
the scent of the larch,
the wind, alive like a heart
beating among the remote flock
of the great araucaria.

Earth, return to me your pure gifts
the towers of silence that rose
from the solemnity of their roots:
I want to return to being what I have not been,
learn to return from such depths
that amongst all the things of nature
I could live or not live: no matter
to be one more stone, the dark stone,
the pure stone that is carried by the river.

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Guest host is Jill Lyman.  The prompt is Response Poetry where the challenge is to write a poem that is a direct reply to another poem.  We can test  our poetic limits by mirroring the form of the original poem.  You may also choose to take the challenge to another level by writing two poems in which you respond to an original poem of your own. Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

Even a ripple makes a difference

Knead my anger to bread
      of common wheat  
Salt my wounds 
      red with fresh thyme
Against killing fields of innocents' blood
Against greed of tyrants & power mad leaders

Puncture through my chest 
      songs of hurts & injustices
Petrol my voice  
      to ripple through dark alleys 

Let me wear your
      grease of sinful shame
      graveyard of sadness

Keel me with rain-
of compassion
clouds of forgiveness 

Born in me,
not a beast nor coward

Let them not make me a stone 
and let them not spill me.

Otherwise kill me

“Let them not make me a stone and let them not spill me.
Otherwise kill me.”
Louis MacNeice
from, ‘Prayer before Birth

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Bold Tributes hosted by Amaya  Engleking.   Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.   Here is the prompt:   We’ll pay tribute to a non-violence or social justice poem by embedding a powerful quote into our own poems, in honor of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Please come join us as there are several example quotes to use, from Thomas Hardy to Margaret Walker, or you can find your own quote inspiring peace.