Shoot for the Moon

Poem One: A Missed Day

I missed the first day

Of the Poem A Day command

This haiku suffices.

Last Day, Last Poem: Day 30

Creative juices flow

Sometimes like the rapids

Rushing over rocks

Sometimes like a slow creek

Gurgling over smooth stones

There is satisfaction in creation

Forming words, constructing sentences

Inventing and fabricating

Innovating and forming a unique universe

Of words that show what you see

What you feel, taste and hear

Poetry is a form of conveyance

That shouts and whispers

And lets you touch the moon.

Day 216: Bad Poetry Day!

Last day of writing poetry  (Photo credit: -Snugg-)

I would like to complete this month of writing a poem a day with one of my favourite quotes about poetry: “Poetry is pulling images out of the sky, the air, the universe, and bringing them down to earth.” ~Marisa DeFranceschi.

Bliss sometimes comes from doing the hard thing. Writing a poem a day falls in this category. What else that is hard for you has turned out to be blissful?

Published in: on April 30, 2013 at 9:51 am  Comments (25)  
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Emily ~ I Barely Knew You

Emily Dickinson Poems Book Cover

Emily Dickinson Poems Book Cover (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Michelle, the WordPress Taskmaster has set out a prompt for those of us churning out a poem a day for April. In her inimitable style she prompted: “National Poetry Writing Month is nearly at end. To celebrate it, try your hand at some verse.” Then she suggested that it be similar to Dickinson—and at first I thought–<Angie Dickinson wrote poetry?> Then I came to the realization that, duh….. she meant Emily.

So this is me channelling Emily Dickinson (perhaps a bit tongue in cheek as I do not have her finesse). I think I should get at least a special mention for trying:

Day, Afternoon, Night

 Oh glorious morning

Thy bright warm sun

And chirping birds

Welcome us to a new dawn

 

As noon arrives

We nourish ourselves

No insipid day

Lies before us

 

Oh lovely mid-afternoon

Thy gentle breezes

Blow fresh newness

Into our magnificent day

 

Early evening warmth and delight

We bask in your glory

And wonder how we

Deserve such bounty

 

Night descends

Quietly without solemnity

We wind down from our busy day

Relax and enjoy our families.

 

The joy of midnight

Is upon us

We are enchanted by the dark

We rest to receive the new morrow.

Admittedly I was having a bit of fun here, but some of the things I mentioned in the poem do add up to a blissful day. Do you have anything to add?

Published in: on April 29, 2013 at 1:23 pm  Comments (27)  
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A Moment

early morning

early morning (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Up early

A little cranky

And creaky

Still tired

Can’t sleep

Wander out to the kitchen

Pour a cup of coffee ~

That first sip

And all is right with the world.

Tell me about a blissful moment………………

Published in: on April 27, 2013 at 9:43 am  Comments (49)  
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Starve a Little

I don't think my fridge has ever been this messy

I don’t think my fridge has ever been this messy (Photo credit: *Bitch Cakes*)

Sometimes I fill my fridge with food

And it is too full

And I cannot find anything

Sometimes my mind is the same way

It is too full

And I cannot find anything

I do not feel like cooking when my fridge is too full

There is too much choice

I cannot think when my mind is too full

There is too much choice

Sometimes we need to starve just a little

To find our creativity.

Published in: on April 25, 2013 at 9:54 am  Comments (38)  
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WINGS

Bird's nest

Bird’s nest (Photo credit: TaranRampersad)

“To be fully alive, fully human, and completely awake is to be continually thrown out of the nest.” ~ Pema Chodron

Pema’s words hit a chord and inspired my poem, for this the 24th day of Poem-A-Day:

                                                        Wings

Sometimes it feels as if my wings are clipped

But when I am thrown out of the nest

I find I can still take flight

It was all in my mind…………

Have you ever found your bliss when you freed your mind?

Published in: on April 24, 2013 at 8:01 pm  Comments (21)  
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Not Really A Very Good Poem

‘Tis the eve of my birthday

One of those birthdays that end in a 0

So for some reason are deemed more significant

Than most other birthdays.

Sometimes birthdays that end in 5 are major hurdles

but not usually until you reach 65

Though 25 is an exception ~

A few others that seem noteworthy are 18, 19, and 21

Admittedly

13 is a milestone, and sweet 16 too

Happy Birthday to You!

Happy Birthday to You! (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

But what about all the other years?

Why are 31, 41, 51 and my next year’s birthday less remarkable?

I have decided that every year and every age is important

And am going to celebrate each and every one as if they ended in O!

(Okay, this writing a poem a day is getting a little long in the tooth—today shows the definite strain of trying to come up with something close to acceptable—but hey, I am still hanging in there, though today it seems only by the skin of my teeth). I am trusting you will not be too hard on me.

Bliss is sometimes putting it out there even if it is not quite up to par — sometimes you have to settle for good enough. Do you agree?

Published in: on April 20, 2013 at 8:24 am  Comments (85)  
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Politically Incorrect Wonder Years

Wonder Bread Hometown Fresh Sign

Wonder Bread Hometown Fresh Sign (Photo credit: joseph a)

As politically incorrect

as a bologna sandwich

on white bread

with mayo or mustard or sometimes both

topped with iceberg lettuce

and cut into dainty quarters

accompanied by salted potato chips

on a styrofoam plate.

Gulping down a coke

with its empty sweet but oh so delicious calories

while watching TV

a rarity in my childhood house

where most meals were served

at the dining room table ~

meals that included meat and potatoes

and a side of vegetables or two and a salad

on china plates.

Dessert

Dessert (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

And in those days dessert ~

because my father

who expected little, did expect dessert.

Bliss then was

a rare sandwich for supper

instead of the usual heavy healthy fare

and the best sandwich of all

was politically incorrect.

What did you eat that gave you bliss when you were a kid (or even now) that seems out of step with our nutrition crazed (and rightly so) world?

My Safe Harbour

Trees

Trees (Photo credit: @Doug88888)

MY TREE

No longer in the backyard of my childhood home

My tree lives on only in my memory.

In yesteryear

I would climb into my tree everyday

and sit in its generous crook,

my back leaning against the rough bark of the trunk.

The branches formed a canopy

shadowing the sun

A breeze would rustle the leaves ~

and I would settle in with a book

or just observe the world

whiling away an endless summer afternoon.

I was sad to see one day

when I went to visit the place where my beloved tree once reigned

that it was gone.

But,

the vivid memories remain

of sunlit days sitting in my tree

safe and apart, yet one with the realm ~

English: Venerable tree, Breamore Down This be...

Venerable tree (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I ruled the world from its safe harbour.

 

Remembered bliss–is there anything better? Do you have a childhood memory of bliss that stands out?

Published in: on April 18, 2013 at 9:49 am  Comments (53)  
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Hope Springs Eternal

hope

hope (Photo credit: mindfulness)

“A writer is not a writer because she writes well and easily, because she has amazing talent, because everything she does is golden. In my view, a writer is a writer because even when there is no hope, even when nothing you do shows any sign of promise, you keep writing anyway.” ~ Junot Diaz

Love this quote and the fact that it applies to all of us, not just writers. Tell me if you agree that it applies even if you change it to read: when there is no hope, even when nothing you do shows any sign of promise, you just keep on anyway.

I tend to think that there is always hope, but agree that we should keep on, even if hope seems to have taken a vacation without us.

Do you agree that bliss is never giving up on hope? No matter how dim, or how hard it tries to hide?

Poem for Day 17:

Hope

Hope is the hold out

The one thing that can be diminished

Only by lack of faith

Published in: on April 17, 2013 at 7:17 pm  Comments (31)  
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Challenge Met Again

Day 14 of Write a Poem a Day Month:

Newspaper colour

Newspaper (Photo credit: NS Newsflash)

Day Breaks

A quiet Sunday morning

Punctuated with crisped sausages

And pancakes drowned in syrup.

 A second cup of coffee

Poured to enjoy with yesterday’s paper

That we were “too busy” to read.

A lovely start to a day that promises not stay quiet~

But the tranquility has not been broken

yet……………….

Do you find your bliss as the day breaks?

Published in: on April 14, 2013 at 2:53 pm  Comments (34)  
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