Ekphrastic poem written for Colleens weekly poetry challenge, based on photo by Annette Rochelle Aban.

I have decided that I need to get back to my poetry writing, which I dearly love but for some reason I have veered away from it, and it seems as though I am looking at enter these challenges as a stranger timidly seeking acceptance into the group. Really? Back to the drawing board, or more specifically: back to the blank page awaiting a poem.

I never heard of Ekphrastic poetry, but I like it. It just means describing a photo or art work in words, aside from the image. Often a picture has deep meaning which may have little or nothing to do with the actual visual picture. This is true of the photo by Annette Rochelle Aban, which features a collection of starfish and sea shells. The first notion that came to my mind was of a collection accented or contained within a border that is simply a string of beads. The meaning (for me) was one of a collection of personal treasures which remains private to me and unknown to anyone else. Those treasures of course may be actual things acquired sometime in life, or memories that have nothing to do with the sea or any things of the sea.

Here is my contribution, in the form of a Haiku. Although I am especially fond of free verse, Haiku is my go-to form when I want to poetize (is that a word?) a thought or a vision in a succinct and intuitive form.

secrets

my treasures abound
safely forever obscure
secured in my heart

(Sometimes, 2021)

Rhododrendon’s last dance (Cee’s Flower of the Week Rhodie Buds challenge)

https://ceenphotography.com/2021/04/09/fotd-april-9-rhodie-bud

This old rhododendron just out-did herself last year, so I’m not counting her out now. This plant has been in this spot for about 20 years, I planted it in my “tree garden” and it is one of few originals remaining… there is another plant that is about the same size as this one on the other side of the garden. Also there is a white smaller flowered Rhodie or similar plant that just shows normal winter wear and tear over by the second pink one.

I don’t know why this plant is such a wreck. It is possible that a deer (or crew of deer) ran through the shrub on their way through the tree garden. The deer and assorted other critters live back there.

(all photos ©Sometimes, 2021)

A haiku based on Eugi’s October 21 challenge word: “ghostly”

I am enjoying writing and posting weekly responses to word challenges proposed by EUGI’S CAUSERIE. Here is the URL so my readers can add your own contributions. Every week there is a new word. https://amanpan.com/2020/10/22/sharing-responses-to-eugis-weekly-prompt-ghostly-kittys-verses-the-bag-lady-anotherkatewilson-tinytotspoetry-z-z-poetry-joseph-r-mason/

Surreal patterns dance
propelled by ghostly
shadows on the win
d

( © Sometimes, 2020)

Wisteria in silence and sound

A scent of Wisteria
if real or fake
borne by warm breezes
over rippling tidewaters.

A ship’s sharp whistle
from deep in the gut,
as sweet music echoes
through silent halls

… a faceless, mute bibliotaph,
who treasures… within his soul…
sounds he cannot experience
except in his penetralia.

© Sometimes, 2017

 

This WORDLE #129, has languished in my notebook for months.    I do love these exercises offered frequently by MINDLOVEMISERY, and enjoy the challenge of making a poem or other form of writing, using at least ten specific words from a list of 12.  This Wordle words are: Wisteria, faceless, penetralia*, sharp, tidewater, fake, breeze, occur, mute, bibliotaph*, step, and guts.

penetralia: held in interior, core, deep, innards, etc… as in deep sometimes private thoughts or memories

bibliotaph: someone who hoards books, a book collector

a glimpse of life…passing by (Daily Post Entry: Blur)

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/out-of-focus/”>Focus</a&gt;

village blur a glimpse of life.JPG

above is a shot taken years ago, in early 1980s, through the window of a van traveling at high speed along a rural road in Yucatan, near the archeological site of Chichén Itza, Mexico.     At first glance it is just a ruined photo, which is often what an amateur photographer gets when shooting on-the-fly from a grimy vehicle window, speeding down a road.    However, on close inspection, the camera apparently focused automatically on the village scene in a clearing beyond the surrounding jungle and captured this candid scene.   (Cropped close-up image below.)   Image by Robert Dreger, ©Sometimes 2017.

village-blur-a-glimpse-of-life-e1497725886780 CROP

 

 

to die in satin…reposted entry from 2016

This poem I wrote last year seems an appropriate companion with one I published this morning.  I love Wordles, and MLMM always is one of my favorite sites.   Thanks again MLMM!

This is a Wordle for Special Edition “Touch” MindLoveMisery’sMenagerie, August 29, 2016 Challenge.   https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2016/08/29/wordle-special-addition-touch-august-29th-2016/#respond
This is not my usual fare, but here is the short vignette that I wrote using many, if not all, of the Wordle words given for the challenge.

to die in Satin…

Feverish now, thrashing among sodden sheets
grown bristly and coarse, soaked with salty tears
in a tangible horror of torturous linen…
no smoothing touch of pumice could relieve,
to sharply barbed cloth…once satiny to the touch…
The dying man’s angular body wracked with agony,
viscous sweat turning waxy his once swarthy skin
as rigidity overcame and replaced malleability.
“Oh!  Let me die!” he entreated those who
could do nothing else.

©Sometimes, 2016

a penny’s worth of death, a poem MindLoveMisery’s Wordle # 166

 

Here is my Wordle, using the dozen words provided in the  MindLoveMisery’s  excerise published June 17, 2015.

 

a penny worth of death

A gun, dark and dreadful,
cold steel caressing the unwilling hand
seductive music of silence and pain…
among bloody ravages of the plague
as dancing creatures
defy the promise of the Tarot foretelling the kiss
that comes forth—
levitating, tentatively echoing
the sparking retort of the pistol’s release
of a penny’s worth of death.

©Sometimes, 2017