Category Archives: Water

16 June 2012

BEAUTIFUL BLOOMS – PROMPT #59

By Poetic Bloomings

Water possesses great power to soothe or destroy. That was very evident in the sight I had the great fortune to witness last night as I caught the mist in the air and the inspiration of a man following his dream. A great amount of water played into it and the power of  Niagara Fall provided the backdrop to history. Nik Wallenda, an incredible spirit and man of  great faith doing what he was meant to do. As are we poets. And so our rewards are great. Thus, we choose our BEAUTIFUL BLOOMS for the week that was water!

MARIE ELENA’S PICK

“Water” opens a floodgate of possibilities, doesn’t it? ;) Many of your responses spoke to my heart, or filled my head with fabulous imagery. Yet, one little 8-word,  easy-to miss piece overflowed with truth and sentiment. My Beautiful Bloom goes to Michelle Hed’s little gem.

one tear drop
can cause ripples
miles away

WALT”S CHOICE:

Apparently Marie and I have made our choices which could be considered the “long and short” of it.  Taking on that seemingly insurmountable challenge (mentioned above) brought me to choose Mary Mansfield‘s ambitious Sestina, “Shadows on the Water” – very apropos for the event that has shaken me in a profound way. Mary, here’s your bloom!

SHADOWS ON THE WATER by Mary Mansfield

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.

Congratulations to the “M&M” girls, Michelle and Mary for their work this week. Thanks to all our poets, who inspire in their own exemplary way!

13 comments | posted in Achievement, Ambitious, Beautiful Blooms, Challenges, Dreamers, Encouragement, In the Air, Inspiration, Journey, Lesson, Niagara Falls, Nik Wallenda, Traditions, Walk of Life, Water

10 June 2012

WATER, WATER EVERYWHERE – PROMPT #59

By Poetic Bloomings

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.

388 comments | posted in imagination, Inspiration, prompt, Water

14 January 2012

BEAUTIFUL BLOOMS – PROMPT #37

By Poetic Bloomings

Prompt #37 was a photo of three disturbances in an otherwise tranquil amber lake. Like the ripples that resulted from those splashes, our poets took their poems in many different directions, touching all that came into their paths. It is intriguing to see what various poets see in the same captured moment. Each and every poem posted was truly golden and worthy of recognition. HOWEVER … Marie and I choose only one each per week. So in keeping with our routine:

Walt’s Bloom:

One would have to be bananas to look at a photo of three splashes on Golden Pond and equate it with eternally resting in Valhalla. But, once the case was made… well, it made for a very visual and expressive poem. And Michele Breton was the only one Banana enough to pull that off. The imagery in her piece shows pure vision and imagination and has earned Michele my “Bloom” for week # 37. Well done, Michele!

Marie’s Bloom:

It was bound to happen sooner or later. For the first time in our 37 weeks, Walt and I chose the same poem. “Viking Funeral” is so different a take, so unique and well constructed, how could it not be chosen? Bravo, Banana the Poet!

Viking Funeral. by Michele Brenton

Lay him down
dress him fine,
weave flowers in his beard;
for he is loved,
he is mine,
paid for with my tears.

Battles over,
Warrior King
respected by his peers;
hold his image
sing his songs
to echo through the years.

Upon the waters
send him well,
let the flames begin;
Valhalla waits
while my heart breaks
and yearns to burn with him.

12 comments | posted in Achievement, Beautiful Blooms, Features, Inspiration, Photo Prompt, Water

8 January 2012

PHOTO PROMPT – PROMPT #37

By Poetic Bloomings

This week we offer this photograph as your inspiration. Write what you glean from it.

Marie’s Interpretation:

GILDED MUSE

Glimmer of notion
        Fluid reflection
        Lucid flow

 

Walt’s Glimpse:

SKIPPING STONES

Dancing across serenity,
wreaking havoc on placidity.
A stone thrown, glances the surface
and curses the setting sun.
No one sees her fall; only the call
of outward ripples broadcasting,
touching everything on all shores.

132 comments | posted in imagination, Inspiration, Photo Prompt, Water

14 May 2011

BEAUTIFUL BLOOMS – PROMPT # 2

By Poetic Bloomings

Again, the decision process was made that much more difficult by the extreme quality of the poems posted for the Week #2 prompt, “Rhythm of the Falling Rain”. We’ve stretched the boundaries and explored new territory. “Great work!” to all of our “Gardeners. Now, for our “Blooms”:


Marie Elena’s selection – Barbara Yates Young’s   “Rough as a Cob  “:



Two Poetic Bloomings picks in as many weeks, Barbara Yates Young gets my pick for this week. “Rough as a Cob” has gusto! Barbara’s pacing whipped me right through, breathless to see what out-of-my-realm creative images the next phrase would bring. From “swearing cigarette butts and spitting out sidewalks” to “its sippy cup was surf loam” to “it ripped the roof off an old Monte Carlo, and drove that convertible into Tuscaloosa like a bat out of hell,” Barbara blows me away with this one.

ROUGH AS A COB by Barbara Yates Young

the twister rolled on;
it was old and mean, salty,
swearing cigarette butts and spitting out sidewalks.
it grew up hurricane-wild, on twice distilled gulf mist
and the evaporations of a thousand rural meth labs.
early on, its sippy cup was surf foam,
the chaff of wild oats, sea gull down; but it graduated
to slurping: tidal pools, fish, crabs,
fishermen dozing over their red and white bobbers,
pirogues, skidoos, pontoon party boats complete
with box wine coolers and kegs of coors,
barnacle-embroidered tugs
and the barges they were pushing.
when it decided to head north,
it ripped the roof off an old Monte Carlo,
and drove that convertible into Tuscaloosa like a bat out of hell,
tossing back beef jerky and dr peppers,
and littering the highway with burger king sacks,
fried peach pies, family albums, and bad checks,
leaving house parts in rows like seaweed at low tide.
as it finally petered out, its steam superseded by
cool condensation, it released three giant water slides, and
the intact brick chimney from a tiny riverbank fish camp.
a snowbird from Ontario it picked up at a peanut shack
breathes deeply, and says thank you for the ride,
but the sky is clearing blue and the twister, gone.




Walt’s choice is MiskMask’s “A Farewell to Dust”:


I love the story that this poem  tells. Goodbyes are always the hardest, and the “visual” aspect of this tale is both heart rending, yet hopeful. The rain of his past, becomes the gift that his passing brings. A rebirth in the baptism of the falling precipitation.

A FAREWELL TO DUST by Misk Mask

She thought him as ancient as marble
but that’s where comparisons end
His face weathered and rough
with whiskers that scuff when
he rubbed his cheek up against hers
 

She touched a long lingering line
carved from his nose to his chin
deep as the cracks in the field
where years ago corn used to grow
as high as the top of her head

Now dust swirls collecting in your ears
driving its way up your nose and eating
a meal means chewing on grit as it
races its way through the night
pricking and prodding at dreams

He talks to her of times long ago
stories that seem like tall-tales
of the scent of pure green
of a colour called pink
of roses and clover and rain

I remember, he’d say, the sound of rain
a sound she’d never heard for herself
He said it was a sound like that clown’s
flat-soled, over-sized shoes, the one that
chased her as she ran from its reach

I remember, he’d say, the sound of rain
pounding the top of my head cooling my skin
after a long hard day’s work. It pounded
like a hammer on soap, he’d say, and it’d make you
bend over and hide from its weight

But now only dust and wind filled the air
the clouds emptied of everything but dust
There was no rest for him here, so God called him
back home, a dark day when the sound of rain falling
was once again heard as they all cried their final farewells. 



3 comments | posted in Beautiful Blooms, Water

8 May 2011

RHYTHM OF THE FALLING RAIN – PROMPT # 2

By Poetic Bloomings

And so our garden is started. “Seeds” of varied types and sentiments have been sown randomly from our fertile minds. A good start for our new adventure. But, now that the dirty work is done we’ll need to water our garden.

Water in its gentility possesses great power. It has healing capabilities, but can also be destructive in nature, as seen recently with the tsunamis in Japan. Write a water poem. It could be the rains of Spring, a lake or ocean, a toddler’s wading pool, even melting ice as a form of water; as long as it’s wet and you can express it, write it.

Marie Elena’s example:

CRY ME A RIVER
(Or, Graduate Student’s Lament)

Determination: diluted.
Social life: evaporated
Spirits: dampened.

Life is but a mist.
A mere drop in the bucket.

Then Graduate School
rained on his parade.

Pour soul.
I drought he knew
how swamped he would be,
nor how utterly drained
his pockets.

But,
that’s water under the bridge.

His assets, now liquid,
it’s full steam ahead.

Walt’s example:

UMBRELLA SMILES

The
sun peeks judiciously,
almost suspiciously from behind
darkened clouds. The loud crack of
thunder’s fury hurries through on winds of
change. The day is not a wash. You quash the blahs
 with          the              sing          le up               turn
of a
 st-
iff
up-
 per
lip,
Eve-
 ry
last
drip 
                                                                           is           defl-
                                                                          ect          ed.
                                                                          The        joy
                                                                           is re-    flect-
                                                                             ed in your
                                                                                 smile

***

Being Mother’s Day, we’re throwing up a wild card prompt as well. You can also post Mother’s Day poems.

52 comments | posted in destruction, healing, Mother, power, Water

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