This week we played the Name Game. We weeded through the different words and phrases found in our names to construct our poems. It was a bit more labor intensive, but whatever doesn’t give you writer’s block, only makes you stronger. Now, let’s give names to our beautiful blooms:

MARIE ELENA’S PICK:

This was tough.  Tougher for some of us than others.    I’m amazed at how many managed coherent, engaging, flowing poetry with limited letters with which to work.  A high five to ALL of you for putting your work out here!

My Bloom this week goes to Earl James Parsons for “Rest.”  Even though Earl had only nine letters with which to work, he managed to pen a poem that is relevant to recent events, tells a complete story, speaks of an issue that is important to him, incorporates a creative title, and flows flawlessly.  Amazing job, Earl.

Rest (by Earl James Parsons)

Terror spears Easterners
Narrators report plots
Reasoners pose reasons
Press repeats treasons
Appeasers report errors
Errors entrap appeasers
Snares snarl serpents
Easterners rest

WALT’S BLOOM:

The trick to this exercise is to make the words as seamless as possible. This gave us many variations of words and the phrases as many had admitted, were useless for the most part. This piece stood out for me because of the content and the poet. The poem reads like a prayer. And knowing Earl Parsons had written it says the poem was truly his style. He earned this BLOOM for its cohesion  and heart.

Amen (by Earl James Parsons)

Reason ransoms reason
Pen pens poems
Personal responses leap
Prose presses psalms
Lessons
Sermons
Pleas
Solemn reason
Open ears
Realness
No more remorse
No more alarm
No more snares
No more alone
Amen

Well, well, well.  Once again we chose the same poet.  But this time, we chose different poems.  Well done, Earl.   Well done. 

Tempus Fugit! Time flees. And in the passing of time we find our wisdom. The choices we made have molded our lives, mostly in rewarding ways. The contrast between then and now are most striking. We learn from our accomplishments and our mistakes. Your poems all have painted vivid portraits. We are honored by your talent. Now, for our BLOOMS:

WALT’S BLOOM:

This poem hit close to home, having survived a similar fate. Jerry Walraven (Chev Shire) has express the angst and sadness so perfectly. Thank you friend for letting me know I wasn’t alone.

MARIE ELENA’S CHOICE

This week’s prompt brought all the beauty and hope of the Easter season.  Your words were filled with praise, and filled my heart to overflowing.  Thank you, all.  Yet among all the beauty, one piece stung and haunted me all week:  David De Jong’s Cross on a Hill.  David managed to dig deeply to see himself as one who single-handedly crucified Christ. Amen, and so did I.  His attention to detail stunned me, and had me right there at the site.  All I can do is say thank you, David, for this gripping piece.

Cross on a Hill  (By David De Jong)

A lone cross shadows the valley below
Its arms outstretched facing the storms that blow
Fashioned a dark, drizzled, early Spring day
Rough beams of wood, with everything to say
With hammer and chisel, cold tools of steel
Each driving blow made me wince with the feel

Tears flowed freely leaving stains in the grain
Hammering the nails causing all His pain
All alone as one abandoned by God
Rendering this symbolic monopod
Once finished I planted it in the earth
It took all of my strength all I was worth

I placed it facing the storms and the winds
This symbol of forgiveness from our sins
My heart emptied securing it in place
All I could see was the look on His face
I begged relief, forgiveness of my past
He brought me grace, hope, true peace that will last

I trod the fields to gather varied stone
Each represents a burden of my own
Placed with prayer at the foot of this cross
My trials my burdens left in the dross
Nothing can move them placed there in His name
He carries me, taking my guilt, my shame

I drove His nails I wove His crown of thorns
I led the crowd with shouts and deathly scorns
I lashed the whip across His ravaged back
I took His life but He didn’t ask it back
Instead He gives me life, life so complete
A life where my Savior washes my feet

When I go to visit this humble place
It still stirs my heart, His amazing grace
I think of the grave, the stone rolled away
How that stone really wasn’t in His way
It was moved, so we could see deep inside
Christ the Lord has Risen! In Him Abide!

WALT’S CHOICE:

The topic for our prompt had many facets. And left up to our interpretations we were able to span the spectrum. So in invoking our right to honor you the poets, I have chosen two BLOOMS to convey this fact.”The Rise and Fall of a Dreamer” by Iain Douglas Kemp and “He Is Alive” by Janet Ruth Martin cover the gamut of what this prompt could inspire. To the two of you, here are your BEAUTIFUL BLOOMS!

St. Patricks Day had us seeing green… and writing about it. Whether writing about the color green, feeling “green” (jealousy, nausea), being in the green (coming into money) or anything else green, we were inspired to grow our BLOOMINGS  here! The BEAUTIFUL BLOOMS for this week’s prompt share a common bond. They are:

MARIE ELENA’S PICK

Sometimes one simply MUST go with make-me-grin, simple FUN.  Add in rhyme and a toe-tapping cadence, and you’ve captured my heart.  From RJ Clarken’s fertile mind came opposing opinions – perhaps a bit jaded, but olive it fun!  I have to share both, as they go together like peas and carrots.  Thank you, RJ!  You rock my poetic world!

 Green Veggies (by RJ Clarken)

“I won’t eat anything green.” ~Kurt Cobain

I won’t eat anything that’s green.
No broccoli, spinach, tiny peas.
Not even sauced or baked with cheese.
I am the anti-veggie Queen.

I will not eat a French-cut bean.
Kale? Chard? Collards? Nope, none of these!
No broccoli, spinach, tiny peas.
I won’t eat anything that’s green.

Romaine and cabbage ain’t my scene
and Brussels sprouts? Forget it. Geez!
Asparagus? No way. Oh please!
And nix the celery. I mean,
I won’t eat anything that’s green.

Rebuttal Re Green Veggies  (by RJ Clarken)

Oh gosh! I dissed green? (Oh, the shame.)
I’m not a veg-bigot, I swear.
To show that I really do care
I’ll eat a big salad. I’m game.

You’ll see then. I would not defame
that leafy green stuff. (Are we square?)
I’m not a veg-bigot, I swear.
Oh gosh! I dissed green? (Oh, the shame.)

My taste buds are really to blame.
I hope you’ll forgive me. This err
won’t happen again. Now aware,
I’ll be kind when making a claim.
Oh gosh! I dissed green? (Oh, the shame.)

WALT’S BLOOMIN’ CHOICE:

As we’ve seen, green is all around us. Shade and hue comes through, but as far as we can tell, every scene offers some green. And in a strange twist of fate that Marie’s selection would appreciate, the poet/poem that I selected for the BLOOM is ANOTHER Randy, Randy Bell with “Viridescent”

A bit of a challenge to get the creative juices flowing. Finding contrary words to the list provided was indeed a task of some proportion. All of our poets who ventured there have been rewarded with works of worthy worded wonder.

MARIE ELENA’S BLOOMS:

This challenging prompt stimulated quality poeming.  I thoroughly enjoyed the faith-based pieces – all of them penned beautifully – as well as the creative humor, and story-telling qualities of some.  What a wide variety of inventive responses!  My Bloom this week goes to Sara McNulty for “Entangled.”  Her unsettling account and plea is clear and unforced,  in a flawless read that was written with comfortable rhyme and natural flow.  Well done, Sara.

Entangled  by Sara McNulty

She prayed for a solution. Let some
brave, solid soul come stepping
softly along, help improve
her life of strife, suffering blows
from a drunken, devil of a man,
an immoral lout with a pig’s snout,
who bullies night after night, threatening
her. If she tries to run away, he says
she’ll pay, but one day the truth
will come out, and the mighty
become the weak.

*****

Our  In-Form Poet Wednesday guidelines state “… we may choose to highlight one of your in-form poems on occasion.”  Today is one such rare occasion.  This week’s Epulaeryu form inspired delectable creations that made my mouth water.  They conjured scents, tastes, and even warm memories.  Salvatore Buttaci, however, chose to take his piece in a unique direction that I don’t believe any of us envisioned.  Sal, I offer you a second Bloom for your innovative and inspiring Epulaeryu.      

FOOD FOR ALL by Salvatore Buttaci

“Bring me your famished, bellies
bloated, growling from
deep empty pits: ‘Please feed us!’
Bring them! I am wheat,
rice, corn in the fields.
food for
all.”

*****

WALT’S BLOOM:

Of late I have searched for brevity in finding expression in the fewest words. One poet excels in this process and I am awed by her proclivity for such skill. And emotions drip from each brief word, speaking volumes. The search for self sometimes takes detours, but brings us back to square one. Restarting cleansed, we can advance confidently. My bloom goes to Paula Wanken for the following poem:

In posting the prompt last Sunday, never did we think it would take on a different significance before these selections would be posted. True Silence came to fruition with the news of our loss of Dyson McIllwain (http://poeticbloomings.com/2013/03/06/in-memory-of-dyson-douglas-mcillwain/.)  Where we looked for this “true silence” to offer us peace, Mr. McIllwain found silence because of his peace. Where does your peace lie? We’ve explored that topic and celebrate the many fine works provided. These are the BEAUTIFUL BLOOMS:

MARIE ELENA’S CHOICE:

Poetic responses to this prompt have been a joy and comfort to read – each and every poet entering with his or her own serenity-inducing offerings.  Walt posed the thought, “Take us to your happy place, and let’s see if it works for us.”  I must say that the very reading of your poems took me to a “happy place,” and I thank you all.  I had four poems that I thought particularly thoughtful and well expressed.  Taking it down to one was no easy task, but I finally chose one of the four:  David De Jong’s “Rows of Comfort.”  This is a poem to be read slowly and contemplatively.  David brings life to being on one’s knees, tilling the soil, “softly tending nature’s yield, earnestly praying in the field.”  My heart and spirit relate, finding the most peace and contentment in my Creator, His creation, and the humbling realization that “my Savior weeds my past.”  David, your fitting correlation of being on one’s knees caring for the land, and kneeling in humble prayer is simply-yet-exquisitely expressed.  It gives me great pleasure to offer you my Bloom.

Rows of Comfort by David De Jong

WALT’S SELECTION:

All kinds of things can bring questions of mind and anguish of heart. And in times like this our solace can be found in the simplest of circumstances. In the gentle sway of a rocking chair we can be given the sanctuary to ease our souls. Barbara Young expresses this well in a poem whose title is as quirky as it is artful. For this great combination, I present Barbara with my BLOOM.

She Is Not a Dog Barking in the Night, or a Star   by Barbara Yates Young

Wars, greed, starvation. Pendulum
depression, joint pain: she can’t sleep.

Lies stiff and close eyed. Dark trains arch
far river bridges, east then south,

their horns like hounds she remembers
hearing from a winter bedroom

bell the cold hills, ice dog stars
barking as if with joy. She wraps

more warmth around aching shoulders
and imagines hickory fire
and a room nodding with a rocking chair.

****************

Congratualtions David and Barbara for your BEAUTIFUL BLOOMS.