This week our journey through the elements brings us to WATER.
Write a WATER poem. Anything liquid or water in any state, will satisfy the thirst of our parched poetic palettes. If it’s potable, make it notable!
Let your ideas flow. Water you waiting for?
MARIE ELENA’S LIQUIDITY:
I THIRST
John 4:14 “… but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst.”
For this I’ve learned – we’re not immune
To dampened dreams beneath the moon
Where love lies fallow, barren, spent;
Where thirsting hearts are spurned and rent.
My Jesus, quench my burning need
And to your living water, lead
Where charred remains of love are nursed;
Where hearts will thrive and never thirst.
WALT’S FLOW:
MIRAGE
There’s no beating the heat,
it comes replete with perspiration
as your inspiration. Arid and dry,
tricking your eye to see the sea
of trouble you’re in for if your
thirst is not quenched, not
to mention the tension of visions
you can not explain. It looks like it rained,
a respite with puddles, an oasis
of all places. Running in a sprint,
the glint off of the water wins out.
You lower your mouth for the sip you seek…
you’ll be up spitting that sand for a week.
June 10th, 2012 at 12:26 AM
Fish Out Of Water
All things thru destiny and fate.
He swam around and took the bait.
While on the hook and line he heard his calling.
By gentle prod or stronger force
he made his mark and stayed the course.
The greatest hand of all kept him from falling.
He flopped around, a silly dance.
He didn’t want to miss this chance
to build upon his visions and his dreams.
A bolder voice had now been heard.
It told him he must share the word
and stock all of the rivers, lakes and streams.
By Michael Grove
June 10th, 2012 at 1:03 AM
Share indeed, a flowing tributary. Nice sentiment, Michael!
June 10th, 2012 at 2:00 AM
Yes, do share.
Lot of depth in you words.
June 10th, 2012 at 9:50 AM
Yes… the depth…
June 10th, 2012 at 3:33 PM
Love the rhythm and rhyme here, Mike. Do share, please!
June 10th, 2012 at 10:52 PM
Profound…your waters run deep, Mike
Wonderful! Thank-you for sharing.
June 10th, 2012 at 11:03 PM
Marie, I would love to see you GET a bloom for your poem…breath-taking beauty and poignancy!
Walt, you lured me in with all that beautiful internal rhyme. Brilliant, and of course, something to make the reader smile:)
Thank-you!
June 11th, 2012 at 3:32 PM
Marie – I’m with Janet – this is breath-breathtakingly lovely …
And Walt – I got totally sucked in as I didn’t read the title first … spitting sand indeed! Well done.
June 11th, 2012 at 11:24 PM
I second that.
June 11th, 2012 at 1:25 AM
Thank You Hannah, MMT, Hen, Laurie and Janet. I’m not sure the name of this form but I write in it a fair amount. 6 line stanzas with a aabccb rhyme scheme.
June 11th, 2012 at 8:25 AM
I like it! If it’s your own we ought to name it the groves-form and use it as a prompt challenge:)
June 11th, 2012 at 3:33 PM
groves-form … I like it!
June 12th, 2012 at 9:20 AM
Mike, loved this. I like the form too. It made me read it three times just to enjoy the form! May try this form with a second submission.
That line, “While on the hook and line he heard his calling” is really full of expansive meaning.
June 10th, 2012 at 12:41 AM
~The Ultimate Rain-Dance~
I hear a dew-drop dribble-dribble,
a little plop, slopping, plinka-plink-plink
building to a dropa-dropa-drop-dewy-drop.
This relentless rain sings a mantra;
I don’t complain, my heart’s not strained,
I know the sun shall shine again,
I’m not worried…, not in the least.
My feet are ready, rearin’ for stompa-stompin,
I’m tip-tap-twitchin’ rippin-ready
for some good old fashioned puddle-rompin’
and my heart’s design dances to the melodic best;
it races with the hip-hop-soppen-drippa-drop.
I submerge my soul in the rhythm of the rain,
my heart heeds the pitter-patter-slop-slop
and sings with the round-bellied-red-breasted-robin.
As we echo each other’s actions exuberantly,
we’re celebrating this glorious water of life,
with a delirious dew-drop dribble-dribble
With much poignant plop, slopping, plinka-plink-plink
and a dramatic dropa-dropa-drop-dewy-drop thrown in;
our feet stride with the boisterous beat, vibrating in unison.
©Hannah Gosselin 6/10/12 @PB
June 10th, 2012 at 12:59 AM
So…I made some changes, I was too, hasty posting! Happy Sunday smiles to everyone!
June 10th, 2012 at 1:21 AM
Either way, I liked it. This is another with that “random” rhyme scheme… but I am thinking you might be working on a pattern somewhere in this piece. I can hear the sound effects reading this one.
June 10th, 2012 at 11:05 PM
Hannah, this is so ‘catchy’…my toes are a-tappin’ and my fingahs a-snappin’:) doo-dah…m-m-m-h-m-m-m!
June 11th, 2012 at 8:59 AM
So, I was trying to remember the name for this and then Viv, visited me with a lovely comment and reminded me of this: “Onomatopoeia!” That’s the way of it I think!
Yes, Michael, I did do random rhyme but this time I didn’t even try to make a pattern out of it, while the other time we’re thinking of I created a scheme for it! I agree, Janet, I think that would make a great prompt!
Thank you, so much to Michael, Janet, Marjory, Hen, Andrea, Kelly and Linda!!
I had a delightful time writing this and am so blessed that I have such fun poetic friends to share my words with…truly blessed. Thank you and smiles to you all!
June 10th, 2012 at 1:54 AM
Hannah – I think that you were simple having a delightful time writing, and gave to us a dightful piece to read. “random” rhyme scheme… I’ll go with that, and fun use of words.
June 10th, 2012 at 9:51 AM
Oh yes, delightful, Hannah!
June 10th, 2012 at 11:05 PM
Wouldn’t ‘random rhyme-scheme be a great, fun prompt?:)
June 10th, 2012 at 5:56 AM
Hannah, I think it’s great. This form is called “letter rhyming” in Danish – directly translated.
June 10th, 2012 at 10:16 AM
Hannah, I need to read this delightful poem every rainy day. The rain is often so gloomy and you were able to make it so fun and beautiful!
June 10th, 2012 at 11:12 PM
This was so very enjoyable!
June 11th, 2012 at 10:52 AM
I think we could grab a guitar and make this into a song, Hannah. We coud sing it on rainy days. Good job Hannah!
June 11th, 2012 at 4:42 PM
I wish I knew how to play!! I f you know how…it is on, Iris!!! Such fun for the rainy days to be had! Thank you for your friendly words!!
June 12th, 2012 at 9:22 AM
That was fantastic, Hannah! You actually made my heartbeat go from dribble to full-fledged splashing dance! How you got that acceleration, that crescendo in there is amazing. Loved the sound, the exuberance that rose like water in low places.
June 12th, 2012 at 4:26 PM
Yay!!! This makes me smile so BIG!!! Thank you for dancing in the rain with me/us!!!
June 10th, 2012 at 12:47 AM
[...] WATER, WATER EVERYWHERE – PROMPT #59 [...]
June 10th, 2012 at 1:41 AM
Marie – Heart rending and heart filling all in one.
Walt
next time do remember to take a water bottle…..
June 10th, 2012 at 1:02 AM
Marie, prayerfully precious, your poem well with the Water of Love. So well written.
Parched just reading this, Walt, such an aching lack of water and teasing mirage. Nicely penned!
Thank you, for the prompts and poems to read, always with a smile!
June 10th, 2012 at 1:19 AM
AGREED – Marie, Your poem is so very beautiful. It flows gracefully. Walt, something tells me this poem of vivid imagery isn’t just about a desert mirage. SO WELL DONE… both of you.
June 10th, 2012 at 1:08 AM
Water Under The Bridge
It tried but didn’t kill you
so it only made you stronger.
You persevered, now be thankful
it didn’t last any longer.
The world is full of river beds
and bridges over top.
The waters keep on flowing.
We must pray they never stop.
Will you turn your weary head
to view what’s up the river?
Will you fixate downstream
while you curl up and quiver?
Peace of mind is precious
as is what grace has in store.
Be thankful for each day you have.
Waters seek a distant shore.
Climb up from the river valley.
Walk along the ridge.
Don’t dwell upon the passing of the
water under the bridge.
By Michael Grove
June 10th, 2012 at 1:46 AM
Michael, that is a beautiful expression of a lot of truth and encouragement.
June 10th, 2012 at 9:54 AM
“…Don’t dwell upon the passing of the water under the bridge.” ! Lovely, Michael!
June 10th, 2012 at 10:13 AM
Will you turn your weary head
to view what’s up the river?
Will you fixate downstream
while you curl up and quiver?
A great poem all around with an important message which is so finely expressed in this stanza. Wonderfully charming as well as wise.
June 10th, 2012 at 12:13 PM
Michael (and most responders above), I love how this prompt takes you rhyming and metering so I feel steady and helpful water dropping and running. In “Water Under the Bridge” I enjoyed the clever reinforcement of the message through the play of symbol on symbol.
June 10th, 2012 at 11:07 PM
Yes, YES!
June 11th, 2012 at 1:27 AM
Age old message. Heard it many times growing up. Thanks Marjory, Henrietta, Linda , Susan and Janet.
June 11th, 2012 at 10:12 AM
Mike, this pulse of life is great and I like that your poem kind of flows. Thank you.
June 11th, 2012 at 10:54 AM
Yes, Mike, this is so true. Thanks for the reminder.
June 11th, 2012 at 3:36 PM
nicely penned Mike – so many of us do spend time worrying about the water under the bridge …
June 11th, 2012 at 11:25 PM
Lovely message, Michael.
June 12th, 2012 at 9:24 AM
Again, Mike, well packaged truth, my devotional today! Loved it.
June 10th, 2012 at 1:32 AM
NONET 9-8-7—-1 Beats
THE CALL OF THE SEA
Morning sun rises to blazing sky
that holds no trace of wind or rain
to mare the deepness of blue
and birds wing their way up,
as gentle waves lap
over the sand,
beckening
you and
me.
June 10th, 2012 at 9:56 AM
…lovely…
June 10th, 2012 at 12:12 PM
Thank you, Hen for all 3 comments.
I love writing about “My Bay” it is so refreshing.
June 10th, 2012 at 4:54 PM
Wish I were there…. beautiful!
June 11th, 2012 at 1:00 AM
The Bay and sand and water of my “there” is in the Pacific Northwest, Just south of the Canadian line.
Thank You Elizabeth –
I Started at the bottom of the poems and see that you are returning home to the garden. Glad to ‘meet’ you. I am a newbie as of May and getting aquainted. Marvalous place.
June 10th, 2012 at 11:08 PM
Truly lovely and serene! sigh:)
June 11th, 2012 at 1:03 AM
Yes,it is that – and it is my choice of a place to go – and within walking distance too!.
June 11th, 2012 at 9:01 AM
Such gorgeous brevity…love this:
” mare the deepness of blue”
that’s really very pretty, Marjory!!
June 11th, 2012 at 10:57 AM
Love the form. It fits this poem so well. I posted a poem about the Pacific that I wrote a few years ago as I used to live in Oregon. Love to go to the beaches there. What memories! Poems are better than pictures to me to recapture the moment.
June 11th, 2012 at 3:37 PM
Oh, this makes me want to drop everything and just head for the ocean … nice.
June 12th, 2012 at 9:27 AM
Marjory, could see and feel the moment. So beautiful.
June 14th, 2012 at 11:58 PM
I am delighted that each of you could share with me a bit of my beach. Thank you for joining me.
June 10th, 2012 at 1:35 AM
FIBONACCI
White
Clouds
floating
in blue sky
best of summer days,
soft waves lapping over beach sand
where pebbles, shells nest by drift wood
beach combers gathering
memories
to fill
their
dreams.
June 10th, 2012 at 4:08 AM
Marjory, ALL 3 of your poems here are outstanding form poems. I especially enjoy this Fib.
June 10th, 2012 at 12:17 PM
Thank you Michael- I really would like to get more of a handle on various forms. I think I like the challenge of writing in structure. Like developing a house plans from a person’s verbal dreams.
June 11th, 2012 at 9:02 AM
Agreed!! Excellent!
June 10th, 2012 at 9:57 AM
Oh, I Love this one!!!
June 10th, 2012 at 10:09 AM
I love all three as well, but this one nailed it!
June 10th, 2012 at 11:12 AM
Loved this!
June 10th, 2012 at 12:19 PM
Linda, Kelly – so glad you enjoyed it (them)
June 11th, 2012 at 10:59 AM
Marjory, You “fib” very well. Great read.
June 11th, 2012 at 7:48 PM
….
June 10th, 2012 at 11:09 PM
beach combers gathering
memories
to fill
their
dreams….LOVE it!
June 11th, 2012 at 12:54 AM
—
June 11th, 2012 at 11:26 PM
Now that’s my idea of heaven!
June 15th, 2012 at 12:02 AM
Hummm .. could be.
June 10th, 2012 at 1:36 AM
FIBONACCI
At
the
Low tide
crabs scurry
across the wet sand
while avoiding diving sea gulls
and outrace children with dogs to
return to the sea
and live one
more day
and
night.
June 10th, 2012 at 9:58 AM
Aww, you caught it!!!
June 10th, 2012 at 4:43 PM
June 12th, 2012 at 9:28 AM
Again, a longing for the oceanside fills me. Thanks Marj.
June 10th, 2012 at 3:00 AM
A Desert’s Truth
Warm, tasteless, living fluid
To wet the throat, leaving
Behind only greater desire
For expected coolness there,
I drink you in, waiting for
Satisfaction and relief.
My gratitude expands with
Sun’s potent desire to crisp
All beneath its bright eyes.
Never can I taste your sweet
Wetness again without sheer
Joy, knowing you are here for me.
June 10th, 2012 at 9:59 AM
Yes!!
June 10th, 2012 at 10:35 AM
Glad you liked it, Hen.
June 10th, 2012 at 12:22 PM
“…..Never can I taste your sweet
Wetness again without sheer
Joy, knowing you are here for me”
Beautifully said truth.
June 11th, 2012 at 6:23 AM
Just wonderful, Claudsy!
June 11th, 2012 at 10:07 AM
Thanks, Kelly. Glad you liked it.
June 11th, 2012 at 11:01 AM
Sun’s potent desire to crisp. Great line. Enjoyed reading this Claudsy.
June 11th, 2012 at 3:14 PM
Thank you, Iris. I’m so glad you enjoyed my efforts.
June 11th, 2012 at 3:39 PM
Yes indeed claudsy – the comparison with the desert makes water all the sweeter…
June 11th, 2012 at 5:27 PM
Having lived in AZ, I was very conscious of its worth, significance, and scarcity.
June 12th, 2012 at 9:30 AM
Claudsy, loved this…the contrast of longing and thirst with the quench makes for aching thirst.
June 12th, 2012 at 11:24 AM
Thank you so much. What a nice reaction.
June 10th, 2012 at 3:01 AM
Spring Melt
Tumbling liquid emerald tresses,
Flirting, tossing snowy petticoats,
Ever wearing down mica-flected
Bodies lying in Earth’s bed, so
Firmly placed on valley’s floor.
Merging with lake’s reaches,
Mingling, tasting other streams,
Licking stony shores as snows
Recede to reveal winter’s end
And land’s price for restful sleep.
June 10th, 2012 at 4:09 AM
Very vivid imagery here Claudsey. A great read.
June 10th, 2012 at 10:00 AM
I so agree!
June 10th, 2012 at 10:34 AM
Thanks, Mike. Glad you enjoyed it.
June 11th, 2012 at 11:03 AM
Tumbling liquid emerald tresses. You hooked us with a fantastic first line. Your imagery is popping in this.
June 10th, 2012 at 10:07 AM
Me too! Especially “Mingling, tasting other streams,”
June 10th, 2012 at 10:36 AM
Thanks so much, Linda. It’s amazing what the mind goes to after midnight.
June 11th, 2012 at 9:04 AM
I love them both, Clauds, and these grabbed me:
“Tumbling liquid emerald tresses,
Flirting, tossing snowy petticoats,
Ever wearing down mica-flected”
I just love those descriptions…especially mica-flected!!
Smiles to you!
June 11th, 2012 at 10:08 AM
So glad you liked them, Hannah. Thank you. Glacier Park always leaves me inspired.
June 11th, 2012 at 4:43 PM
Oooo…that sounds gorgeous…I’ll have to look that one up!
June 11th, 2012 at 5:28 PM
If you go to the Park’s website, you’ll run across some of my sister’s photos somewhere in there. Enjoy. It’s a great site.
June 11th, 2012 at 11:28 PM
“tumbling liquid emerald tresses” WOW!
June 12th, 2012 at 2:30 AM
Thanks, my friend. I’m glad you liked it.
June 12th, 2012 at 9:32 AM
Lovely scenes of a satisfying wakening. Beautiful, Claudsy.
June 12th, 2012 at 11:25 AM
Thank you, Sky. I love the forests and streams during melt. It makes you know you’re alive.
June 10th, 2012 at 5:45 AM
ON CATCHING YOU
All I want is to sit with you on a boat catching cod
under the high bridges
on the dark blue sea.
“Don’t move!”
Careful, careful!
“Don’t say a word, they have ears.”
I’m completely silent.
“No, no,
don’t smoke, they have noses.”
What incredible bright beasts,
we’re about to kill.
“Only whatever we do, the cods will be there,”
you say, teaching me
and I let you.
I’m all here for you.
Cods everywhere deep down under the dark surface.
And we’ll get them.
I thought:
“All I want is to get them.”
You smiled.
“What’s wrong now?” I whispered.
And you said:
“You are supposed to catch max. three.
Not twenty three.”
June 10th, 2012 at 10:01 AM
Hee, hee… loved this!
June 11th, 2012 at 9:26 AM
Thank you Hen – I’m so glad you did.
June 10th, 2012 at 10:02 AM
Ha, ha. This is the song of every fisherman and woman. Wonderfully clever!
June 11th, 2012 at 9:28 AM
Thank you Linda – a song of every fisherman and woman, yes!
June 10th, 2012 at 12:08 PM
What fun – great job of telling story.
June 11th, 2012 at 9:30 AM
Thank you Marjory – and you’re right, this is a little story and maybe not that much of a poem. Only I dare call it a ballad.
June 10th, 2012 at 4:56 PM
How fun! Loved it
June 11th, 2012 at 9:31 AM
Thank you Elizabeth. I’m so glad you liked it.
June 10th, 2012 at 11:13 PM
So full of fantastic imagery…really liked this…Ever wearing down mica-flected
Bodies lying in Earth’s bed,
June 10th, 2012 at 11:14 PM
The above comment was for Claudsy…
Andrea, you hooked me with the first line:) Thanks for the laughter.
June 11th, 2012 at 9:34 AM
You’re welcome – how I love to think that you sit over in Canada and smile because of an incident just some few kilometers away from where I’m sitting.
June 10th, 2012 at 11:32 PM
I am such a fan of fishing poems and your work Andrea.
June 11th, 2012 at 9:38 AM
Oh Mike, I’m sorry I think this will be the only fishing poem I can create because I also asked my husband what you’ll do if you need to go to the bathroom – and back then he said that he didn’t know how women managed. In fact this was the only time I joined him and I liked that he didn’t know how women manage – I still don’t know.
June 11th, 2012 at 12:46 PM
Carefully!
June 11th, 2012 at 9:07 AM
I love the feeling of depth and blue and the swishing flashing of fish beneath, Andrea!! Your conversational style is a joy to read and this:
“What incredible bright beasts,
we’re about to kill.”
Made me laugh!!!
Such a great poem!
June 11th, 2012 at 9:45 AM
Hannah, thank you so much! How I love that you write “poem” – because this is one of the first poems I ever wrote in English. I wrote it for a RB prompt in 2009 and then my computer crashed and then I lost it. But then somebody who is Anders Bylund helped me recovering it – and then I changed it a bit and pasted it here. In fact I changed it again now but not much and I don’t think it makes much difference here.
In fact I should be doing tax work – loads of work but how wonderful it is just to be in here. Hannah, thank you so much.
June 11th, 2012 at 4:47 PM
I’m so glad you’re spending some quality time here with us/me, Andrea!!! I really look forward to our visits!!! Especially being able to read your poetry!
I’m so glad that you got this poem back…such a joy to read, Andrea!!
Warm smiles and a wonderful day to you!
June 12th, 2012 at 9:35 AM
This is SO great! It reminded me of the excitement of fishing with my dad as a child, so you opened a memory for me this morning–the best poets do that, you know.
June 10th, 2012 at 6:25 AM
A Villanelle. I was already working on this poem before you brought up the subject of water. But the water theme seemed to help me finish it.
“The Riddle”
Sphinx-like, he sits with a last, solemn gaze.
Parched lids sink low in the heat of death’s glare.
No other lover will I ever praise.
I am dry Egypt in the desert’s haze.
I thirst for his words, resigned with no fear.
Sphinx-like, he sits with a last, solemn gaze.
We both were part of misbegotten ways;
Searching for water to needs not filled, where
no other lover will I ever praise.
Love honors a need for one who is crazed
We keep ego safe before we can care.
Sphinx-like, he sits with a last, solemn gaze.
Death answers the riddle in his last phrase:
“Love survives a desert because he shares.”
No other lover will I ever praise.
Oh, oracle; dry lips are now ablaze!
My soul, in a vast desert, howling there.
No other lover will I ever praise.
Sphinx-like, he sits with a last, solemn gaze.
June 10th, 2012 at 10:03 AM
Beautifully rhythmic and mysterious, Jaqueline
June 10th, 2012 at 11:22 PM
Thank you, Linda.
June 10th, 2012 at 10:07 AM
This speaks to me…
June 10th, 2012 at 11:23 PM
I’m glad…
June 11th, 2012 at 11:06 AM
Like the mystery and depth here. I had to read it twice. Intriguing Jacqueline.
June 11th, 2012 at 12:13 PM
Thank you Iris. This poem has gone through a lot of changes since yesterday when I put it out here. Hope I did not edit all the mystery out of it, lol.
June 11th, 2012 at 11:30 PM
An excellent villanelle!
June 12th, 2012 at 9:38 AM
Jacqueline, you left me thirsty for more of this sadness. Lovely done.
June 10th, 2012 at 9:42 AM
STREAMING LIFE
(a shadorma)
water’s edge…
life in the balance:
survival?
destruction?
the choice is not always ours,
we go with the flow
2012-06-10
P. Wanken
June 10th, 2012 at 10:04 AM
That sums it up beautifully, Paula.
June 10th, 2012 at 10:08 AM
… yes…
June 10th, 2012 at 12:05 PM
Well put!
June 10th, 2012 at 11:15 PM
a-a-ah yes…too often we try to push against the current, accomplishing nothing but tiring ourselves.
June 11th, 2012 at 11:33 AM
great last line Paula
June 11th, 2012 at 11:31 PM
Perfect, Paula!
June 12th, 2012 at 9:39 AM
Fateful water, wishy-washy destiny–well described, Paula.
June 10th, 2012 at 9:48 AM
Walt and Meg, loved both for different reasons!
June 10th, 2012 at 9:59 AM
WATER
Trickling
Crashing
Rolling
Splashing
Glittering
Clear
Sparkling
Mirror
Giving
Taking
Mischief
Making
Ocean
Stream
Lake
Dream
Life
Rain
Flood
Pain
June 10th, 2012 at 11:16 PM
Linda…one of my fav’s today!
June 10th, 2012 at 11:35 PM
I love this type of simple rhyming poem. It can be so difficult to construct a poem with meaning and depth using only word per line. You have done it very nicely.
June 11th, 2012 at 12:49 AM
Oh, this is neat. I like it
June 11th, 2012 at 9:08 AM
Oh, yes, Linda you capture amazingly well the sudden switch from joy in water to suffering. Excellent!
June 11th, 2012 at 9:48 AM
Linda, I must admit that here is something that I must learn. For instance I haven’t figured out what “pain” has got to do with it yet. Only I enjoy this stream of words like streaming of water in itself.
June 11th, 2012 at 1:02 PM
Wow. Flows well
June 11th, 2012 at 9:50 PM
Thanks so much for all the feedback!
June 12th, 2012 at 9:40 AM
Linda, loved these little ripples making waves in the soul. Beautiful.
June 10th, 2012 at 10:56 AM
When in hot water
the proper response should be
to yell out, ‘Hell l’eau!”
June 10th, 2012 at 12:17 PM
Neat!
June 10th, 2012 at 10:57 AM
Just Beneath the Mirror’s Surface
We are water.
Our words pour out
our grief.
Heated in our argument
our flowing tears
cloud our thinking.
It might be easier
to push them back,
but we must put our palms together
and our righteousness aside.
To smear clarity through the fog,
and bring us into focus,
we need to retouch
our unyielding words.
Our hearts pour out
our love.
We are water.
June 10th, 2012 at 7:59 PM
Our hearts pour out
our love.
We are water”
Yes, Beautiful
June 10th, 2012 at 11:38 PM
We Are Water, Yes! I have done three poems in the past based on this fact. I plan another yet this week. Yours is special. These two lines are great: but we must put our palms together
and our righteousness aside.
June 11th, 2012 at 9:10 AM
Patricia!! I’m always glad I read you! We’re water indeed, great poem!
June 11th, 2012 at 11:32 PM
Just beautiful, Patricia.
June 12th, 2012 at 9:43 AM
Patricia, you’re always giving us a good view into the deep. This was lovely, like Mike I liked “we must put our palms together
and our righteousness aside” especially…it’s the lesson in the lines. Thanks..
June 10th, 2012 at 11:08 AM
My frozen water Haiku.
Hot coffee not good
in the heat of summertime.
Ice cubes make it great!
© KED 2012
June 10th, 2012 at 12:00 PM
Oh, some like it hot
Fall, Winter, Spring and Summer
Always hits the spot.
June 10th, 2012 at 8:29 PM
I agree MMT!
June 10th, 2012 at 11:17 PM
June 12th, 2012 at 9:46 AM
Kelly…okay girl, don’t go messin’ with my hot coffee! Ha! I am one that likes it hot, hot weather or not. That’s why they invented air conditioning! On my 8th cup as I read blooms this morning….
June 13th, 2012 at 2:27 PM
8th cup? You sound like me! Just recently started making it iced (only after a few hot cups, though). Works nicely in the car with a straw while carting the kids to summer activities!
June 10th, 2012 at 11:19 AM
Fill up a bucket
with all the tears you have cried
and drown all the pain.
© KED 2012
June 10th, 2012 at 12:02 PM
Yes, drown them all.
June 12th, 2012 at 9:48 AM
Kelly, this is great. Love this notion and so true that if we gather the sorrows together they can be used.
June 10th, 2012 at 11:24 AM
The green garden hose
brings relief from summer heat
cool and refreshing.
© KED 2012
June 11th, 2012 at 9:11 AM
I like this one especially!! I see that classic green garden hose and a spray of rainbow in the sun!! Thank you for that!
June 12th, 2012 at 9:48 AM
Classic is right. Like this.
June 10th, 2012 at 11:54 AM
Waves Ripple
Some folks say, “She is so strong!”
If she feels weak – is that wrong?
These times she walks to the sea,
calming, sparkling endless sea,
shining ripples in the sun,
reflection of prize once won.
Waves come rolling up the beach,
seagulls stand within their reach.
Moving waves under the sun,
back-ground sounds as work is done.
Calm, refreshing place to be,
down beside the endless sea.
Seaweed’s drying on the sand,
pebbles, shells where ‘ere you stand.
Sailboats bob in waves and breeze,
others beached at tilted ease.
From pebble tossed in the sea
ripples move out endlessly.
I wonder where ripples reach
when started at some sandy beach?
Un-ending ripples bearing
peace, joy in memory sharing.
Pebble’s rippling motion’s right,
lifting burdens, give hearts light.
Can’t remember if this has a proper form Name?
7 beats per line – aaBBcc DDeeFF ….
June 10th, 2012 at 11:40 PM
I really enjoyed reading this so I read it 3 times. Well written and I’m sure it took you some time to get the rhyme and meter just right. BRAVO!
June 11th, 2012 at 12:43 AM
Thank You, bit of time is some times the best time.
June 11th, 2012 at 9:12 AM
I’ll second that Bravo with a Cheers!! Time well-spent!!
June 11th, 2012 at 9:51 AM
Marjory, you sure come from an island. I sense this in this poem where I relate to a lot of single lines. Thank you.
June 11th, 2012 at 11:34 PM
This is well worth any amount of time.
June 12th, 2012 at 9:51 AM
Marjory, wanted to know this story, wanted to share the ripples. Well done.
June 16th, 2012 at 4:02 PM
I like to say – that since I was born next to the sea, I have some salt water in my veins.
June 10th, 2012 at 12:12 PM
I haven’t had time to read these yet, nor very much time to write, but here goes with a little’un:
WATER
There’s been too much water this year
here, and too little over there.
What’s wrong with the weather’s
what I want to know.
Why can’t distribution be fair?
June 10th, 2012 at 12:28 PM
Yes, We need to get a pattern going!
June 10th, 2012 at 11:20 PM
So true…while one drowns another has drought!
June 12th, 2012 at 9:52 AM
Viv,
yes, my sentiment exactly.
Whatever happened to ‘average’ rainfall?
Nuttin’ average about this weather pattern.
June 10th, 2012 at 12:33 PM
and here’s another:
WATER
Water
glistening,
sparkling in the sun
or dull green sluggish flow -
inspiration f or artists and poets.
wet to launder, wash us, clean house,
to swim and cool our overheated bodies,
lubricate the throat, restore fluid balance,
freeze to add zing to a drink, preserve our food.
Water can fight fire fearlessly, sizzle and die,
vaporise into steam to power machines.
Rain brings hope to drought-stricken
folk and fear to river flood plain.
Volatile, versatile, valued,
saved, and distributed,
vital to this life
on earth.
June 11th, 2012 at 6:14 AM
I loved this, Viv!
June 11th, 2012 at 9:15 AM
You’ve captured so eloquently the necessity, joy and pain of this slippery invisible liquid!! Great penning and I enjoy the shape, Viv, centered it would be a sphere, huh?! Very nice!
June 11th, 2012 at 10:04 AM
I just tried it, and it makes a ball!
June 11th, 2012 at 4:45 PM
Nice!!! I thought it would….such fun!!!
I know someone who happens to co-author/administrate this blog who is a master at concrete poetry!! I remember a flying saucer one from most recent!! Smiles!!
June 12th, 2012 at 9:54 AM
Loved this, Viv, a great summary of a great blessing.
June 10th, 2012 at 12:40 PM
My goodness! OUTSTANDING work out here already, and it’s barely after noon EST!
Marie Elena
June 10th, 2012 at 12:43 PM
Hi,
wrote a wordle for the Whirl this morning, it’s a “water poem,” sort of.. will try to come up with another one just for PB:
~ Sailing ~
I watch them sail –
Two vessels, masts upright –
The seven seas of summer
(Mud-stained sails)
Time crawls for them
Mine – skips, and lands, and sinks
Before I get to count –
A thrown stone
I close my eyes
And travel back once more
I brush away the shadows
Willows cry
I board my ship –
Without a single nail
Of love, and faith, and hope
It’s built to last
And soon enough
I leave the coastal bluffs
And taste the salty breath
Of summertime
I feel my heart
Still trembling in the wind
(Corona’s way too weak)
I feel alive.
June 10th, 2012 at 11:23 PM
Sasha…suddenly I want to peek at the wordle words….this is GREAT! I can handle all these water poems because I still have sand between my toes from a day at the beach;)
June 11th, 2012 at 7:50 AM
Good for you, Janet! A day at the beach – a break well deserved
Thank you for your words!
June 11th, 2012 at 9:54 AM
It sounds like you’re boarding your entire life here – and I love it. That you see that those two boats are doing great and you’re following – great!
June 11th, 2012 at 2:41 PM
Yes! The two vessels are supposed to be my children
I wasn’t sure I managed to get that across, but your comment proves otherwise, I’m glad it worked. Thank you, Andrea.
June 12th, 2012 at 5:27 PM
Sasha, yes, I read them as your children, two masts–mud was a great clue, of course! Lovely picture of a beautiful moment. Thanks!
June 12th, 2012 at 5:33 PM
Thank you so much
!
June 10th, 2012 at 12:47 PM
From Speedboat to Sailboat
I stormed the Gulf of Mexico for years
a speedboat zooming in and out of victim’s lives
racing solo, jumping hurdles zealously
a zigzag here and there without a backwards glance
a vortex voiding eyes of innocence
overpowered by a roar, a rev, a VROOM;
voracious as a barracuda on the prowl.
Until one day my engine crashed and burned,
left me floating in rough waters all alone.
I saw a sailboat sparkling in the sun
with glassy ripples flowing rhythmically,
found you at the cockpit calm and cool
a peace emanating from your mien
while seagulls soared in harmony.
Your silent treatment blew my mind
as the wind slapped life into me
misty water splashed, cooled me down
a mix of salt and fish aroma wakening.
And all at once I knew the truth-
the wheel was not my own to navigate.
You are the wind, my guide in life.
I’ll let you sail this boat from here on out.
June 10th, 2012 at 7:53 PM
“….You are the wind, my guide in life.
I’ll let you sail this boat from here on out.
I like the whloe poem. These lines especially. Refreshing
June 11th, 2012 at 6:11 AM
Oh, Laurie, I liked this very much. Especially: “the wheel was not my own to navigate”
June 12th, 2012 at 5:31 PM
Laurie, loved this! ‘Not my wheel to navigate.’ To quote Galatians 5:25, with a bit of poetic translation, ‘If we live by the wind, let us sail by the wind.’
June 10th, 2012 at 1:21 PM
(A Cascade Poem)
INTO THE DEPTHS
Who Are You?!
With that voice…
as smooth as… water…
Those fathomless eyes,
swimming right thru me…
Who Are You?!
Singing my song…
…seranading me…
with that voice…
…Awakening my soul…
…drowning my heart…
as… smooth… as… water.
June 10th, 2012 at 4:39 PM
I like that, beautifully said.
June 11th, 2012 at 12:07 AM
Oh, thank you, MMT!
June 10th, 2012 at 11:25 PM
Henrietta, this is beautiful…what is a Cascade poem?…I’ve never heard of that form.
June 11th, 2012 at 12:16 AM
Hi Janet, thank you; yes, when I saw Robert Lee Brewer’s Cascade poetic form on his web site, I just knew I must try one someday, as it sounded so lovely. Well, when I saw my inspiration at an airport the other day, it just flowed out…
…
June 11th, 2012 at 6:09 AM
I really liked this. Will have to investigate the form.
June 11th, 2012 at 10:55 AM
Thank you, Kelly!
June 11th, 2012 at 9:18 AM
Oh, a cascade how very appropriate for a water poem!!! I love what you’ve done in here and the fathomless eyes and this…
“…Awakening my soul…
…drowning my heart…
as… smooth… as… water.”
I love that contrast between awakening and drowning…so good Hen!!
June 11th, 2012 at 11:03 AM
Oh, Hannah, you soo “get” my writing
; I Love that! Yes, the word “Cascade” is soo very beautiful to me, and when this chance encounter happened, I was almost swept away in the cascade… 
June 11th, 2012 at 4:40 PM
LOVE those God-incidences!!! Beautiful, Hen, just beautiful!!
!!
June 11th, 2012 at 7:49 PM
! : ) !
June 11th, 2012 at 7:50 PM
: D !!!
June 12th, 2012 at 5:34 PM
Hen…this made my heart race. Loved it.
June 13th, 2012 at 10:26 AM
Why, thank you 7, I almost didn’t post it!
June 13th, 2012 at 10:24 AM
Opps… “serenading”.
June 10th, 2012 at 3:54 PM
Fear of Drowning
We learned despite our mother’s fear
that water does not want us,
but lifts us up like leaves
floating on a current, that trust
in our buoyancy was our life raft.
She had never swum, at odds with
crashing waves, the undertows
of her landed life enough to pull her under.
Knowing she herself was mostly water,
her body a pond to all her children, still
she was never at home with lying back
in danger’s lap, her weightless flesh
cradled by whatever navigates the depths,
by whatever winds make waves,
by the notion that deep water still runs.
June 10th, 2012 at 4:35 PM
“…her body a pond to all her children, still…”
What greater comfort can a mother give – being there.
June 12th, 2012 at 5:39 PM
Jane, beautiful. ‘Still she was never at home with lying back.’ You drew it beautifully.
June 10th, 2012 at 4:22 PM
Water
the scald and steam of the shower
was not succeeding in cleansing
the stain,
no more than hours of wondering
wandering in the rain had cleared
the memories,
or a day on the sand trying to cull
meaning from the ocean had healed
the pain.
I was told that water symbolized
change,
but everything was the
same.
June 10th, 2012 at 4:30 PM
Wh00000 – that says a Lot.!
June 11th, 2012 at 6:06 AM
true, mark. sometimes water only clarifies.
June 11th, 2012 at 11:37 PM
Mark, this is a purification poem. Wonderful writing.
June 12th, 2012 at 5:41 PM
Mark, expressed the desperation so well. That dreariness underneath thin skin, a dark sense that can’t be dissolved.
June 10th, 2012 at 4:26 PM
VILLANELLE
Waves cross bay to roll up the beach
sun distributing morning warmth
before the tide slips out of reach.
Seagull swoops in a graceful arch
out for a breakfast of fresh clams
Waves cross bay to roll up the beach
Drift wood lays where sun left it bleached
‘waiting beachcomber’s happy to claim
before the tide slips out of reach.
Mothers bring young children to teach
of shells, sand, birds, fish and tide as
waves cross bay to roll up the beach
They listen to the seagulls screech
as dogs and children chase them away
before the tide slips out of reach
Then feast on grapes, plums and a peach
served with hotdogs and ice cream as
waves cross bay to roll up the beach
before the tide slips out of reach.
June 12th, 2012 at 5:45 PM
Oh, grab the moment! Relish the day, the smell, the sand, the warm, the kiss of the coast! Loved this, Marjory.
June 12th, 2012 at 7:02 PM
Thank You
June 10th, 2012 at 4:58 PM
[...] Sunday Poetic Bloomings wants us to write about water. They’ll take anything potable. I will offer two poems. One [...]
June 10th, 2012 at 5:14 PM
It’s been a long time … my poetic side has been hibernating, I think. (Maybe some cold water in the face will help wake it up
) Anyway, here’s simple shadorma for today’s prompt:
Raindrop
Little drop
shining with color,
a rainbow
midst the tear-
imagine a world flooded
with rainbows.
June 10th, 2012 at 5:30 PM
There you are! I’m so glad you chose to work your poetic lungs out again!
Nice Shadorma, Elizabeth!
Marie Elena
June 10th, 2012 at 7:31 PM
Thanks for your encouragement, Marie!
June 11th, 2012 at 9:59 AM
I don’t understand “midst the tear” – but I love the symbol of a raindrop, colorful, together with other raindrops form a rainbow. That’s beautiful.
June 11th, 2012 at 8:51 PM
Thanks! I was imagining the sorrow that raindrops sometimes picture… and how beautiful rainbows can come out of something lonely and sad.
June 11th, 2012 at 10:00 AM
What a lovely idea!
June 12th, 2012 at 5:47 PM
Elizabeth, tears hold so much in them sometimes. Loved this little rainbow.
June 13th, 2012 at 5:35 PM
Beautifully portrayed.
June 10th, 2012 at 8:29 PM
A Tear’s Journey
By: Meena Rose
I honor you by
Showing my hurt -
A lone tear slides
Down my cheek.
Your discomfort is
Insulting and angering;
I release my tears
No longer concerned.
My throat catches on
Fire – frustration
Searing, vexation
Lancing my soul.
My pain, my agony -
Glossed over; all
Women cry, foolish
Weaklings.
I watched my tears
Escape into Ocean’s
Embrace; I watched
My tears ride high
Upon an Ocean’s wave
Leading the charge
To places unknown;
Bringing life.
I gaze out longingly
Seeking out my tears,
One looked back and
Waved goodbye.
June 11th, 2012 at 12:06 AM
“..One looked back and
Waved goodbye.” Beautiful.
That translates to me … “It is ok to cry, but you can also move past the tears to a new start.”
Tears are not alone for women. I deeply respect the men who are strong enough to allow themselves to show emotion and even cry in front of others.
June 11th, 2012 at 1:12 AM
Hi MMT, Thank you.
I agree that tears are not the sole dominion of women… we each process emotions differently. The girl who I wrote about, that was her reality.
June 11th, 2012 at 11:38 PM
Meena, that last line is a killer. Great poem.
June 11th, 2012 at 11:51 PM
Thanks! so are you in Portland, OR or Portland, ME?
June 12th, 2012 at 6:01 PM
Portland, OR
June 12th, 2012 at 6:22 PM
Me too
June 12th, 2012 at 10:55 PM
Oh, where are you? I’m actually in Beaverton, but across the street it’s Portland. Strange.
June 12th, 2012 at 11:33 PM
Cedar Mill area near St. Vincents
June 13th, 2012 at 2:22 PM
Wow! You are about ten minutes away from me. In fact, all our doctors are at St. Vincent’s.
June 12th, 2012 at 5:49 PM
Meena, beautiful escape from the sorrow. Loved it.
June 12th, 2012 at 6:22 PM
Thank you!
June 14th, 2012 at 11:56 AM
This is lovely, Meena. Tears are my release for joy, anger, and sorrow. I do like to look back and say goodbye
June 14th, 2012 at 12:07 PM
So glad you could relate Linda.
June 10th, 2012 at 8:30 PM
By the Shores of Lake George
By: Meena Rose
Summer time by Lake George,
An annual get-a-way,
I now sorely miss.
Endless hours spent
Reflecting upon Water -
Grand nourisher of life.
Water – it flows;
It does not resist;
It gives.
Water – it soothes;
It does not judge;
It caresses.
Water – it persists;
It does not give up;
It succeeds.
If it can’t go through it,
It goes around it;
It is unstoppable.
Whittles rocks,
Shaping the land -
Remember: You are half water.
June 10th, 2012 at 11:00 PM
I’m intrigued by water and you highlight some of the reasons why! Somehow the form you use here is perfect!! I just returned from the beach and I miss it already!
June 11th, 2012 at 6:03 AM
I liked this. One to linger over.
June 11th, 2012 at 7:22 AM
thank you so much Kelly!
June 13th, 2012 at 2:44 PM
Yes, Meena, somewhat shaped by own ingredients. Nice thought.
June 10th, 2012 at 9:25 PM
http://rinklyrimes.blogspot.com.au/2012/06/littleness.html
My photograph is an essential part of my poem so I’ll just leave the URL. I’ve enjoyed reading the other entries.
June 10th, 2012 at 10:32 PM
It took much crying, cursing, and beating my head into my desk, but I’ve managed to write my first attempt at a sestina…don’t think I’ll be tackling that again any time soon! I have to say that the effort makes me appreciate Walt’s talent for that form even more
Shadows on the Water
I ventured through the mud and stones
Until I reached that special place
Where the lingering shadows
Of willows trembled in the dying light,
Cooler of cold Corona in hand
And memories of you in my heart.
Seeking salvation for an aching heart
Is much easier here than in a field of stones
Shaped and engraved by a mournful hand,
Finding comfort in a familiar place
Where we watched divine light
In its endless dance with the shadows.
I truly understand those shadows;
They now occupy my heart,
Their darkness choking away your light,
Brushing across the stones
And desecrating this place,
Dusky phantoms melting in my hand.
I cup water in my hand
To wash away the shadows
Yet they remain in place,
The stubborn stains of a wounded heart,
One martyred by Death’s stones
But still seeking the redemption of the light.
As night approaches, the light
Crawls across the bluffs, God’s hand
Stroking color across the stones
But not banishing the shadows
That now haunt my heart
Every moment in every place.
I’m merely a vessel floating in place,
Unable to move into forward toward the light,
The loss of you a nail through my heart.
I take another bottle in hand
And make a toast to you, to shadows,
To lost heroes in a sea of stones.
Here in this place I feel you close at hand,
Your spirit now a part of that dance of light and shadows,
Bringing just a bit of peace to a heart battered by stones.
June 11th, 2012 at 12:20 AM
“….It took much crying, cursing, and beating my head into my desk, but I’ve managed to write my first attempt at a sestina….”
Mary, the beauty, pain, love, clarity of this… is absolutely wonderful. And if this is from a reality of your own, then I am sure that the crying, cursing and beating were not all to do with the form. But , it completion was, hopefully, also a part of healing.
Also understand the Work! Great job. Thank you for sharing.
I am also working on my first sestina (not a one-day stand for sure) but mine is in a much lighter mood. Waiting now for a Prompt it can fit into.
Chose a summer time activity, so am sure Walt will oblige me with a good prompt soon. 
June 11th, 2012 at 6:57 AM
Thanks Marjory! Aside from the general familiarity we all come to have about dealing with grief, this really isn’t based on my personal experience…so I’m still blaming the form lol!
June 11th, 2012 at 7:56 PM
June 11th, 2012 at 12:59 PM
Mary, a Sestina is not for the faint of heart. Time consuming! Challenging! You did a great job here. Just a suggestion. Try writing one in very strict, iambic pentameter. Writing in a particular meter seems to help me get control of the line.
June 11th, 2012 at 1:12 PM
Thanks so much for the suggestion, Jacqueline. If I can gather up the courage to try again I will certainly keep that in mind.
June 12th, 2012 at 6:51 PM
Jacqueline, I also thank you for your comment. I am still ‘twinking’ my quadmetic sestina – to smooth it out.
June 13th, 2012 at 2:48 PM
Mary, quite an accomplishment. I’ve never attempted one, and need to study the form more. But you shared the emotion and desperation and loss so well, it just ‘rested’ into the form and seemed at home in it. Beautiful, sad.
June 13th, 2012 at 8:48 PM
Thanks
June 10th, 2012 at 10:58 PM
It fills the tear that stings the eye
In raw, unkempt emotion
It weeps in mercy from the sky
And forms the turquoise ocean
It cheers dull nooks in laughing brooks
It crushes as it rushes
Its nectar drips on parted lips
On twilight ponds it blushes
It drenches parched, drought-stricken lands
It floods, it flows and gurgles
It mirrors heaven’s vast expanse
And cools the sluggish turtles
It trickles, seeps, it drowns, it pools
Baptizes re-born sinners
It lures young lads from woes like school
To fish and dream till dinner
It gleams like silver, polished glass
On winter’s frozen shallows
It sparkles on dew-dazzled grass
And tames the dusty fallows
From cups it spills, in rip-tides kills
Too much or none; disaster
In midnight rain its soft refrain
Evokes passion’s grandmaster
How cold the grave beneath its wave
But as the sun gets hotter
We tip the jug to fill our mug
And thank the Lord for water, water, water…
June 11th, 2012 at 12:23 AM
I LOVE IT!!! Good rhyme, good thoughts, good work.
June 11th, 2012 at 10:54 AM
Beautiful! It flows like water in a river.
June 11th, 2012 at 5:57 AM
Janet, what a wonderful job of “covering” water! I loved the meter. So enjoyable to read!
June 11th, 2012 at 9:00 AM
Love this!! Beautiful rhythm; it just flows perfectly.
June 11th, 2012 at 9:22 AM
I’m going to risk being an annoying echo and talk about your rhyme and rhythm, Janet!!! Ha ha!!
Really though your words are always such a musicality to read…such a joy!!
Thank you, for what you do!! Smiles!
June 11th, 2012 at 9:30 AM
Oh-so-good to be graced with your words again, Janet!
meg
June 11th, 2012 at 1:07 PM
A good thing,too! I have a habit of losing Janets! Back in the fold!
June 11th, 2012 at 10:03 AM
Janet, like Hannah I’m a bit afraid to be echoing as well – only I like to add what a true teacher you are.
June 11th, 2012 at 12:48 PM
Thank-you all! It feels good to be back. There is so much enjoyable reading here from all of you!
June 11th, 2012 at 9:48 PM
You captured it, Janet. A beautiful tribute to water!
June 12th, 2012 at 8:36 PM
It feels like someone’s dictating the words to you, you just need to quickly write them down and post them
Such perfection created in such a short time. Amazing.
June 13th, 2012 at 2:53 PM
THIS is the sum of all our tellings, the gathering of each impression and thought into the pool of this watery prompt. So well done, Janet.
June 10th, 2012 at 11:15 PM
Drops Drip (a shadorma)
Water drops,
Once ice, now just cold,
From the twigs
Of these trees
To awaken spring anew
With incessant drips.
June 10th, 2012 at 11:27 PM
This is so refreshing to read on a HOT evening.
June 10th, 2012 at 11:32 PM
June 11th, 2012 at 12:29 AM
Oh, another Shadorma –
Another of the many forms I do not know –
nor is it listed in the side-bar here for my Edification
But I do really like your poem.
June 11th, 2012 at 5:48 AM
Marjory, check the tab in the header entitled IN-FORM POET, it lists the Shadorma as we had highlighted it here at PB.
June 12th, 2012 at 7:09 PM
Thanks. Looked it up – gon’a give it a try next prompt.
June 11th, 2012 at 11:55 AM
Thanks, Marjory! This was actually my first attempt at a shadorma. I’m just learning about form poetry myself, and really enjoying it. Poetic Bloomings is a great resource, as is Robert Lee Brewer’s Poetic Asides blog over at Writer’s Digest.
June 11th, 2012 at 6:00 AM
You captured the “hope” of Spring just beautifully.
June 11th, 2012 at 11:55 AM
Thank you!
June 13th, 2012 at 2:55 PM
Like this, thatmissr…. could hear the quiet in it.
June 10th, 2012 at 11:37 PM
This looked like a lovely raindrop on my computer, but nevertheless this is the result here on PB.
A
warm
Summer rain
would bring out
the bathing suit and
down the street I would run
to where 10th and Pierce would
intersect. Puddled up on the corner
I’d splash and kick at the gathering
pool, careful to miss the passing cars.
Then back up the hill I would go and
throw myself down on freshly mowed,
soft, wet grass, to soak up more rain.
I wish I had time to soak up a
warm summer rain
once again.
© KED 2012
June 11th, 2012 at 12:34 AM
Kelly, Your poem is such a fun picture. Tells a wonderful story.
and I choose to see the raindrop!
This looked like a lovely raindrop on my computer, but nevertheless this is the result here on PB.
I appreciate your effort – I have ‘not-got’ it yet either, will keep at it!
June 11th, 2012 at 12:49 PM
In spite of the heat today I feel refreshed. LOVE this:)
June 13th, 2012 at 2:57 PM
Kelly, this took me (and I’m sure many others) back to the yards of summer! Fun, loved it.
June 11th, 2012 at 12:06 AM
Wow, there are so many great water poems that I can’t give individual comments, as the Grandbabies have just arrived to share my life for the next several weeks!
!
June 11th, 2012 at 12:37 AM
Hen, You have your priorities right!
Have a Ball.
…and think of all the fun new events and happening you will be gathering to poem about!
June 11th, 2012 at 11:12 AM
MMT, you are absolutely right! There is a wealth of sweetness to be captured on my page!!!
!!!
June 11th, 2012 at 9:24 AM
SO wonderful, Hen!!! I wish you and your grand-babies the best of the best summer-time fun and love together!! Smiles to you, Hen!!
June 11th, 2012 at 11:15 AM
Hannah!!! You are a part of my Family, from this day forward, for the rest of my life!!! Thank you! Love, Hen and company!
!!!!
June 11th, 2012 at 4:39 PM
I love this!!! Hen!! You make my heart just aglow with the sweetest kind of friendship there is!! I’m so grateful for your kind heart!! Thank you!! Warm smiles to you!!
June 11th, 2012 at 7:44 PM
June 11th, 2012 at 2:53 AM
A DRY TIN CUP
Everyone said
that he didn’t have
the sense
to put a hat on his head,
to come in
from the rain
when any right thinking
sane man
would duck and take
cover. But there he stood
like petrified wood,
rain trickling
rivers down his face,
his hair wet,
a glistening mat,
his clothes
embracing water
like a thirsty river bank
as his eyes
scoured the clouds
for water, pleading
for a mouthful to drink.
Hour on hour,
day on day,
he held out his tin cup
and waited for it to fill.
Water, water everywhere,
he’d cry,
and not a drop
in my cup to drink.
June 11th, 2012 at 9:08 AM
I’ve re-written this one:
A DRY TIN CUP
Everyone said
that he didn’t have
the sense
to put a hat on his head,
to come in
from the rain
when any right thinking
sane man
would duck and dive
for the dry. But there he stood
like petrified wood,
rain trickling
rivers down his face,
his hair wet,
a glistening mat,
his soured clothes embracing
water like a dry
river bank. His eyes
scouring the clouds
for a mere sip of dew,
pleading,
thick-tongued
for a mouthful to sip.
Hour on hour,
day on day,
he held out his tin cup
and waited for it to fill.
Water, water everywhere,
he’d cry,
and not a drop
in my cup to drink.
June 11th, 2012 at 11:11 AM
You have certainly drawn a captivating picture of a hopeless man here. Thought provoking, Misky.
June 11th, 2012 at 11:31 AM
Well maybe, but the point is that he’s soaking wet and there’s water everywhere but he still thinks he needs to drink from a cup that the rain isn’t filling very quickly.
June 11th, 2012 at 11:40 AM
Agreed. I just meant he is hopeless in that he cannot see to reach out and take what is readily available but waits for it to come to him. Great poem
June 13th, 2012 at 3:01 PM
Great picture Misky of our ridiculous conventions…we insist so often in drinking properly from the cup. Liked this.
June 11th, 2012 at 9:22 AM
Just a quickie from me – I’ll try and stop by with something better considered later!
Water! Water!
have a complant!
Ths stupd grapefrut
you provded just squrted
me n the face. Now can’t
use my eyes.
Ths establshement s a dsaster
and shall be wrtng a letter
to your manager, just to tell
her what thnk of you.
June 13th, 2012 at 3:05 PM
Andrew,
what an nterestng approach! Must say loved the mssng elements here, and caught t quck because at work the ekkks on my keyboard s not workng.
Fun! Gve us some more of these.
June 13th, 2012 at 5:39 PM
Smiles!
June 15th, 2012 at 12:16 AM
or do you mean “smles” ?
June 11th, 2012 at 9:26 AM
Such great “water-works” hee, hee… and it has only been a full 24 hours (or maybe a bit more)!!! Really excellent poeming poetical peeps!! You all make this craft such an enjoyable experience!
June 11th, 2012 at 9:37 AM
Looking for Water in This Clumsy Living
Skip right to page 86 and it will all make sense.
Probably not but there’s a story there
with a title – green on the day –
that doesn’t make sense until the last line
and those are the best stories
so it’s worth the trip.
I went there looking for water.
Funny how we get pissed off when the rain shows up
but even more pissed when it stays away too long.
What a life.
It’s raining here on page 21.
Another story, too.
You can tell because the author held the book out the window
while writing it. That and he told me it was raining.
Good thing too because the bottom of page 21 is on fire.
I didn’t expect to find water on only the second try
and so now I’m not sure what to do, where to go,
and so I do what I always do when I feel that way
and skip to the goodbye.
Pages 98-99, in this case.
It stings at first like most goodbyes do
but then Bob ends it with pictures
- which are really only ideas of pictures at this point -
of storms
- which are really pictures of darkness and terror –
but there is light in the terror.
June 11th, 2012 at 7:15 PM
mike, I love this. The page numbers, the detail, just excellent.
June 11th, 2012 at 7:48 PM
Thanks very much!
June 13th, 2012 at 3:20 PM
Mike, liked this too. You had my mind’s eye scampering for clues, building notions, intently measuring the details and assumptions. Neat.
June 11th, 2012 at 10:42 AM
Absent
Only when you’re gone do we think of you.
You are ignored unless needed.
Then panic sets in and everyone begins
running here and there;
searching for you in any available place.
With his last breath man obsesses.
When he can’t find you, he dies.
Crying your name, he finally cherishes you.
Water, water, water…
June 11th, 2012 at 10:47 AM
I wrote this in 2009, but since it is about the ocean full of water, I just wanted to post it. Loving this prompt, so many poets posting splashing hits!
Ode to the Pacific
Are you aware of your scope and sway,
that the moon controls your destiny?
High tide, low, or waning,
she sets the limit of your boundary.
For centuries man continued to aspire,
to ride your waves to unknown shores.
Times you spew him like dragon’s fire,
others you cradle him like a babe.
Poets forever speak of your beauty,
sonnets formed for you alone.
Romances blossom along your side,
to be washed away before the dawn.
Mankind mirrors your volatile moods.
Rising from the peace of the neap
to the height of powerful tsunamis,
mysteries lie buried in the deep.
June 11th, 2012 at 11:40 PM
Beautiful, Iris.
June 13th, 2012 at 3:23 PM
Iris, great pieces, both of them! Loved the views. Thanks.
June 13th, 2012 at 6:42 PM
Thanks Seven. I appreciate all your comments to my several attempts this week. Something about water that gets our muse flowing like a fountain, writing like a river, gushing like a geyser. ha ha. Iris
June 11th, 2012 at 11:20 AM
Marie, you make my eyes water with this poem. I give you a dozen blooms for this one!!
June 11th, 2012 at 11:23 AM
Walt, I have expierienced a few mirages in my life. Life does not always teach us in subtle ways. Thanks for the reminder.
June 11th, 2012 at 11:36 AM
THE LONG WAY AROUND
He’d come the long way around
to hating water, sailing around the Horn,
a face full of iced, slushy storms,
and waves that heaved and rolled,
the likes to envy any matron’s heavy bosom
as she bounced, bobbed and bounded
herself into elasticated Playtex.
He wanted to girdle the sea into submission,
and cursed the days when the waves filled
his head with sick. He braved it all,
facing the wind, retching and heaving
into the sea spray and the fracturing waves
across the deck. He was dehydrated and weak,
and he’d come the long way round to hating
water. He and his boat floundered with fish
that caressed the edges of waves,
tickling and teasing his boat’s keel.
June 13th, 2012 at 3:26 PM
Misky,
I am left wanting the rest of this man’s story! Great picture, great beginning of a deep-hearted tale of the sea. Loved this.
June 11th, 2012 at 11:53 AM
Mist, ice, or flowing river
simple H20
complex is our need of you
June 13th, 2012 at 3:26 PM
Iris…sweet, true. Loved it.
June 11th, 2012 at 12:08 PM
Tears in a Bottle
Two parts of hydrogen
One part of oxygen
Put them together
In one tiny drop
They make a tear
That falls in sorrow
According to the Torah
God stores our tears
In a bottle for us
Drop by tiny drop
June 13th, 2012 at 3:29 PM
The tender care of God, who puts the H and O’s together! Neat, Iris.
June 11th, 2012 at 3:29 PM
Until the Breaking of the Waters
Our first sea is secret, only we can
Know its beaches and its barriers
Its jagged boundaries, the fragile
Reef on which we have learned
Not to founder but to dive
Into the richness of our umbilical
We alone, private swimmers,
Cannot relate tales of its depths,
Tides and inlets, no darkness
Or dawn, no constellations, moonless.
When the moment arrives and we
Are plucked from our watery world
And into the kingdom of air, listen
As our lungs awaken. We breathe,
We feel, we hear, we exist!
Now the world of water will remain
A memory hidden in the circuitry
Of our veins.
June 12th, 2012 at 6:55 PM
Marian – really enjoyed that as I welcomed our granddaughter to the word of air just a few weeks ago. Beautifully written.
June 13th, 2012 at 3:31 PM
A beautiful picture of placental bliss! Loved these last lines…
“Now the world of water will remain
A memory hidden in the circuitry
Of our veins..”
June 11th, 2012 at 3:54 PM
Salton Lake
There in the desert lies a lake
Filled with water whose taste gave me a jolt
Such a surprise was this inland waterway
This lake more like an ocean really
Thunderheads above surged at the ready
To fling fresh droplets but could they
Detach to join this body of salt-water …
There in the desert with the sea-gulls
Screeching wildly overhead
June 13th, 2012 at 3:34 PM
Such fresh and present imagery…loved it.
June 11th, 2012 at 7:01 PM
Some Other Day
We tell the rain don’t come
but it does anyway, can’t help
its slippery sloppy self, slides cold
down these silent window panes.
We watch these puddled places
rise and fall and wash it all
away, rinse clean these shadow
-ed streets and spill. Hold, still.
We tell the rain don’t come
but it comes anyway, comes
and goes and ebbs and flows
and floats your heart away.
June 13th, 2012 at 3:37 PM
I felt the sighs, with tears running down my house’s window eyes. Beautiful, Whimsy.
June 11th, 2012 at 7:04 PM
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June 11th, 2012 at 7:16 PM
Oh, Marie. Yours just pours with praise, my friend. This should be a hymn. Just gorgeous.
June 11th, 2012 at 9:08 PM
I feel the same way, I think it would be wonderful if your words were set to music, Marie.
June 11th, 2012 at 9:06 PM
Well of Life
Wash, spray, sprinkle or downpour
Geyser, waterfall, fountain and more
Aqueduct, creek, river, or sea
Variety of your potential
Seems endless to me
You ripple or wave, steam, or gush
Hydrate, irrigate, trickle or flush
Torrents cause deluge
Tsunamis bring fear
Iceberg spells danger
A drop becomes a tear
Watershed, waterworks
Waterboard, waterski
For pleasure or for life
Water is sheer necessity
June 13th, 2012 at 3:39 PM
Lovely portrait of our life liquid, Iris.
June 13th, 2012 at 10:56 PM
Wonderful use of rhyme!
June 14th, 2012 at 8:36 AM
Thanks Annette
June 11th, 2012 at 9:44 PM
Cleansing
Our tears
Cleanse the wounds
Inflicted by
The thoughtless,
The ruthless,
The careless,
And the clueless.
June 12th, 2012 at 7:30 PM
What a wealth of truth.
June 13th, 2012 at 3:39 PM
I agree, so true…let them fall.
June 14th, 2012 at 11:59 AM
Wonderfully succinct and beautiful, Mary. A joy to read.
June 15th, 2012 at 1:52 PM
Thanks so much
June 11th, 2012 at 11:45 PM
Water Haiku
Child in water wings
Stands frozen at edge of pool
Knowing he can’t drown
Still, a tiny hole
Might go unnoticed in one
Wing, and he could sink.
Blue pool waters splash
Friends laugh, wave, and beckon him
Deep breath in, he jumps.
———————————
Put Yourself In Their Roots ( a fibonacci)
Did
you
water
the plants yet?
The get thirsty too.
Would you like to be dry and parched
with
no water
anywhere
close enough to reach?
Guilt forceful enough, turns faucet.
June 12th, 2012 at 7:24 PM
That reminds me!
I need to water my plants !!!!
Guilty as charged.
June 13th, 2012 at 3:44 PM
Purple, you master the brief verse! Loved both of these.
June 13th, 2012 at 11:37 PM
Thanks, 7!
June 11th, 2012 at 11:45 PM
I couldn’t come out to play yesterday, so I’ll play tonight and since I’m in a playful mood–
“Fighting dreams on moonbeam ponds”
There, peeking behind the nightlight,
that clever tribe of dimpled savages
(hide-and-seek rule-breakers)
We watch them skip atop mottled lily pads
mocking sleepy babes afloat
on snores and scores of moonbeam ponds.
Three wee nymphs wink
(lips alive with high-jinx.)
diving to the sugary depths
with feet like yellow waddlers,
lapping chubby toddler toes,
slugging through warm jello,
juggling Neptune’s conk shells,
tee-heeing sweet lullabies
sung on waters in the sky,
tangly sourly silly ripley starry.
Momma shoos this hear-less school
of giggling gypsies in and out,
around and ‘bout this sleepless milky way.
Dream-fighters, they are—
Wrapping streams of moon -man
cobbler ‘round momma and child.
Dream-stealers— locking sleepers
from the land of nod
rocking, rocking on a sea of stars
wave after thirsty wave
into the far red twilight.
June 12th, 2012 at 7:27 PM
Hoooo, here is another wonderful children’s story book in the makings. What a fun read with great pictures.
June 13th, 2012 at 5:18 PM
why thank you for the compliment and idea!
June 13th, 2012 at 3:47 PM
Random fun…here, there, this, that, but on a deliberate journey of fun. Yes, Marjory is right…a children’s book in the making.
June 13th, 2012 at 5:17 PM
Mmm. I never thought of that but just maybe . . .
June 13th, 2012 at 5:51 PM
Let us know when its done!!
June 12th, 2012 at 8:26 AM
Little late to the party. All excited (inadequate word) with packing for the Kenyon workshop. (not quite within shouting distance of Erie, but next door to next door)
décima: night and sound: water
Late July rocks a fishing boat
in the deep night. Water stirring
like a breeze in the stillness brings
distant tunes and gunshots to float
to me, intimate as love notes.
Screen doors stretching their long black coils
pour their secrets across glass miles
of lake. Trains and whispers alike
fly along the water and lick
at my ears, leaving moist sound trails.
—
A décima is a little like a Spanish sonnet.
June 13th, 2012 at 3:58 PM
Barbara, lovely images and audio alike…loaded with murmurs, nestled in quiet.
June 13th, 2012 at 4:25 PM
Thanks, …seven
June 12th, 2012 at 9:14 AM
I’ve yet to read the great submissions for this watery prompt…but should have time now. FINALLY we got rain after begging, cursing the weatherman, pleading with God, fainting at the first of summer’s rising water bills ($92.06–just water!). So, no yard work today, just a lazy day in the rain. My submission is below, then I’ll enjoy the blooms above.
June 12th, 2012 at 7:17 PM
So many of us have been ‘over heavenly watered’ this spring. You must ne in a hidden valley!
June 13th, 2012 at 2:40 PM
We’ve had basically no significant rain for six weeks in southeast Arkansas. SO this 2 inches was welcome.
June 12th, 2012 at 9:14 AM
Flash Flood
sole
ankle
calf
knee
a deluge overwhelms
me.
wonders
worries
panics
fears,
a threat of quenching
nears me.
flushing
flooding
rushing
flood,
it seeks to do good
to me.
but
dry earth
stubborn
hardened
will,
a needed rain can’t
fill me.
June 12th, 2012 at 6:03 PM
I love your format on this.
June 13th, 2012 at 2:39 PM
Thanks Purple, have no idea if it is a form or just a whim.
June 12th, 2012 at 7:19 PM
Very nicely put – a whole story in a short space.
June 13th, 2012 at 2:40 PM
Thanks Marj.
June 13th, 2012 at 6:47 PM
Good allitertion and inner rhymes. I like rhythmic flow of this piece, Seven.
June 13th, 2012 at 10:03 PM
Thanks Iris.
June 12th, 2012 at 3:00 PM
“Desert thirst”
Bleak
parched love
a hazy mirage of baby’s breath—
my desert sanctuary,
like
liquid silver
on wounded lips, raw cheeks
rough on my lone lonely heart.
sand-whipped
eyes too blind
to see the shifting art—
sidewinder paintings,
sun-scorched passion,
jeweled tribal veils
snapping in the wind.
I draw
imagined
baskets of water
from the arid oasis
drinking the mirage
of our love.
June 12th, 2012 at 5:15 PM
Oh what dry wishes, JLynn. ‘Liquid silver on wounded lips’ says it all. Thanks.
June 13th, 2012 at 5:49 PM
“….drinking the mirage…”
Yes, a full story.
June 12th, 2012 at 3:54 PM
Summer Storm
I feel his weather in the gathering clouds,
a skin premonition like prophetic bones,
arthritic knees, and joints.
Cracked lands, dry lands, great plain lands
lay awake underneath the dilating sky
as rumbles begin to build.
The storm moves over me, rolling across
my surface with the smooth power
of floods and bombs.
Sounds bloom in the wake of his passing
In a symphony of stray dog whines
and flapping screen doors.
Silent tears fall from a deep height
downward in random lines into
growing puddles of mud.
June 12th, 2012 at 5:24 PM
One Inch, love those sounds…’stray dog whines and flapping screen doors.’ Great sensory depth. Loved it.
June 12th, 2012 at 6:05 PM
I love the `skin premonition’
June 12th, 2012 at 7:12 PM
“….Silent tears fall from a deep height
downward in random lines into
growing puddles of mud.”
So wonderfully put. Thank you.
June 13th, 2012 at 12:07 AM
Thank you! As if on cue, a summer storm blew in this afternoon after I wrote this.
June 13th, 2012 at 5:46 PM
. . .
June 13th, 2012 at 10:53 PM
Great imagery. Water can be metaphor for so many things and you made me think about many of them.
June 12th, 2012 at 9:45 PM
Hmmm… just tried to post this and it didn’t take, so am trying again. (Apologizing in advance, if I should end up with duplicate entries.)
Sorry for the drive-by. Busy week! Too many irons in the fire. Back later to read and comment — I hope. :-]
Jealous
(is what I am)
of the girl
in the blue kayak
skimming swiftly,
floating slowly,
sitting still and silent
in green sanctuary
birches, maples and oaks
lulled by bullfrog hum,
thrum of dragonflies, embraced
by yellow pond lilies, while I
tromp the trail along the shore
anchored to earth by heavy boots,
leaden, laden; driving by later
on my way to somewhere
else, I glimpse a flash of blue
between the leaves and am
coveting still, her quiet peace
dreaming, desiring only to be,
like a feather floating on the surface
bobbing, drifting in the breeze
one with the wind
and the
water
June 12th, 2012 at 10:03 PM
Hmmm… tried posting this earlier and it didn’t take. Trying again. (Wish me luck!) Back later to read and comment. :-]
Jealous
(is what I am)
of the girl
in the blue kayak
skimming swiftly,
floating slowly,
sitting still and silent
in green sanctuary
birches, maples and oaks
lulled by bullfrog hum,
thrum of dragonflies, embraced
by yellow pond lilies, while I
tromp the trail along the shore
anchored to earth by heavy boots,
leaden, laden; driving by later
on my way to somewhere
else, I glimpse a flash of blue
between the leaves and am
coveting still, her quiet peace
dreaming, desiring only to be,
like a feather floating on the surface
bobbing, drifting in the breeze
one with the wind
and the
water
June 13th, 2012 at 5:44 PM
I absolutly love this. It paints such a beautiful picture of you kayak girl. I’d be jealous too!
June 13th, 2012 at 10:51 PM
This is wonderful. What a great picture and all the imagery — so rich. I especially like “birches, maples and oaks lulled by bullfrog hum”
June 13th, 2012 at 10:32 AM
WOW!!! Incredible Prompt, Amazing words from Everyone!!!
June 13th, 2012 at 10:49 PM
I combined this week’s post with the alliterisen one from last weekend — that I didn’t get to in time to post there.
http://hoofprintsinmygarden.wordpress.com/2012/06/13/water-drops/
June 14th, 2012 at 12:40 AM
Good is like water;
it nourishes in being.
Without effort
it just is.
It does
without thinking.
It is
without thinking.
It is everywhere
within us
sustaining life.
It is life.
It does not contend,
but flows naturally,
finding a way to be
where it needs to be.
It flows down
as streams and rivers
to the world ocean.
It rises up
as vapor,
the spirit of life.
It is soft
falling from the sky.
It cleanses.
It makes things grow.
Supple and alive,
it bends the inflexible.
It weakens the hard;
rocks become sand.
Gentle sands now
to walk on,
lapped by the waves,
the sound of life.
It is calm here,
down low
where land meets water
and the sky is open.
Dive in,
buoyed by life.
Drink deep,
it tastes good.
June 14th, 2012 at 8:37 AM
Okauchee Lake
That lake was everything to us,
bathtub in the summer,
a shortcut to town during winter,
source of food and fun.
There are bigger lakes, deeper too,
but none more important in my
Huck Finn childhood.
It was glacier-carved,
darkly deep and huge at one end,
bluegill small and shallow at the other,
a squiggly channel in the middle,
looking like a misshaped dumbbell.
We were all poor, but,
with nothing to compare it to,
we didn’t know it.
We might have been needy,
yet we all had a boat of some kind.
Mostly, they were rowboats,
aluminum if your dad had a job,
an Evinrude motor on the back if
there was a rich uncle somewhere.
That lake had its mysteries,
and it ate a human or two every year,
sucked them down into the weeds,
next to the cars it swallowed every spring,
the ones driven on to the ice in March,
at the American Legion jamboree.
In late spring, early summer,
before vacationers’ traffic clouded the surface,
you could drift idly,
see the ancient tree stumps below,
wonder what the land was like before the floe.
If you had a motor,
or a young person’s energy,
you could get out to Stumpy Bay,
or to Stone Bank,
where the best fishing was.
You’d see birds of every type,
small crabs near the shore,
piers and docks of all shapes and lengths.
You could stare at the sky,
see where it joined the water,
watch that lake swallow the sun if
you stayed out late enough,
waiting for the star show,
catching a night bonfire up the hill.
That lake was everything to us,
and I bet, on still days,
it served as a mirror
for God’s morning primp.
They say that there are 10,000 lakes
in the state next door,
even more up north, near Canada,
but we only needed one,
and it made us richer than we knew.
June 15th, 2012 at 11:27 AM
[...] at Poetic Bloomings we are diving into water. Visit to read what our hosts say and to read their poems in response to [...]
June 15th, 2012 at 1:28 PM
The Sky
Fog clings to foothills-
unwilling to descend
into the valley
Wisps of fog-
I’m taken with how
they disappear
The fog murmurs-
before it’s invisible
listen to it
June 15th, 2012 at 3:23 PM
one tear drop
can causes ripples
miles away
June 15th, 2012 at 3:25 PM
The Lure
Aqua blue
is the sea
floating toward me –
Hear the rushing lap
of the inbound tide
I’m longing for a ride –
Hot, soft sand beneath my feet,
humid, salt air in my nose
and tumbling shells at my toes –
One last exhale as I grab my board,
dash into the sea, paddling hard
adrenaline rushing, I am the wave.
June 19th, 2012 at 6:49 PM
Equalizer
He feels his way each step
Back and forth with his “yep” and “doe”
They pass him to and fro
But it is great to know when he
Floats in the pool, he’s free
Bobbing confidently, his eyes
Beaming laughter—my prize
Water does equalize—what joy!