Poetry Challenge #26: Redemption Songs

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Disbelief
suspended
she
gets
naked
and
limbo
dances
under
a
tree.

Her
arms
fly
back.

Her
breasts
confront
the
breeze.

Her
hips
appear
smooth
flat

on the horizon.

No longer is she fearful
Bridget, driving to pharmacy
with her guitar slung on the
back seat of her rental car.

No more a victim of her relationships
gone sour. All the hours of the 24.

The sky is her mirror. A surge of
images linked to Freedom, Equality,
Liberty seek her out in this vulnerable
pose.

She claims what is due to her.

No longer will she swim against
the tide. A hermit beneath her
surface smile.

She is an America, and a redhead. Godammit!
Her hair is red on her head,
and red on her bush. The trees
know!

Three days from now on Thursday
at 19.30 at Bar Brigitte, in Paris,
France. She will sing her songs of
freedom.

Redemption songs.

In front of an audience of critics and
strangers she will sing her self-penned
songs. She will not be afraid of speaking
out.

No sooner said
and a mockingbird appears
to make a mechanical noise.

Not three seconds pass
before her shadow self
mocks her metamorphosis.

Refusing to be altered, she
gazes strongly at her shadow
self and whispers, “Cool it,
Honey”.

“Welcome to the world, child,
this song is for you.”

Poetry Challenge #25: Untitled

2013Normandy Beach

Born again. Another day. Regenerated, cells reprised.

Always. Change. Still. Constant.
Sleep is our exile: from birth to exile.

In our dreams we perform twice-hourly spacewalks to retrieve (several) film cassettes.

The purpose of this lonely circling rendezvous is to move and shake in mystical states, in anticipation of the cliffhanger scene when we forget our safe world in the lonely circle and fail to return from our dreams.

How quickly the lighted taper of our existence burns to vapor, as we fade to black on Earth’s surface.

Return home to our seedpods, in a distant sky with different stars. Far from the astronomer’s gaze.

With our Earth eyes disabled, we use transcendental meditation to put the finishing touches to our minds.

At the time of writing, our film is Untitled.

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Poetry Challenge #24: Two Bodies

Two bodies speak to each other in smoke rings.

Signals blown back and forth. The mysterious air

between the pair: cloaking their mystery.

What are they saying? Is language extinct?

Are words with all their meanings pinned

down. Frozen. Stiff.

No map no GPS
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Poetry Challenge #23: Forgiven

She adds the tragic loss of her daughter “Michele” to the mystery of how humankind came to be here on Earth.

If God’s people cannot agree on the Beginning of Time, her wish is that her daughter will never trace her and save herself the disappointment of discovering the tale of her beginning  —

“Once

Upon a Time.”

Her homeland is a primitive island in the midst of the Caribbean Sea.

“Learning to reading

and

writing”

was reserved for the rulers of the island.

As Michele grows up, she will want to be read to at night. What

will her mother tell her? Should she say that her eyesight is poor.

              *        *       *

My illiterate, mother.

I span her like a shadow self,

calling out her name. “Frances”.

 

Step into my tracks, Frances. Frances.

Tell me your life story. In my dreams

you are a lifesaver.

 

You are a palm reader. You read palms.

You read me every night.

There beside me…. whispering incantations,

telling me what comes next…

Replacing fairytales? Replacing

sorrow.

I remember who I am today.

Tomorrow.

2Normandy Beach
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Poetry Challenge: #22: Coup de foudre

Am I genetically predisposed to be, forever, landlocked?

And, at the onset of my awakening, is that why 

Coup de foudre sounds

to my innocent ears, like —

Cup of Finding.

But as I grow older and wiser (maybe)… I

grow to accept the dictionary definition of Coup de foudre. 

As,

“Love at first sight

and, bolt

of

lighting.”

Of reachable sky. Omnipotent/all-powerful shelter.

In consideration of the seven billion [+] combinations of DNA living and breathing (just) individual lives on this planet: this blue interrupted Planet Earth.

We,

sometimes, call home.

When it suits us.  Depending on our native spirit, and, where,

we come from, (ab) originally.

“I tend to be locked in my own world and find it difficult to understand how other people think and feel.”

Love, Sara

Blessings,

“and when we speak we are afraid 

our words will not be heard 

nor welcomed 

but when we are silent 

we are still afraid 

So it is better to speak 

remembering 

we were never meant to survive”

And when the sun rises we are afraid 

it might not remain 

when the sun sets we are afraid 

it might not rise in the morning 

when our stomachs are full we are afraid 

of indigestion 

when our stomachs are empty we are afraid

we may never eat again 

when we are loved we are afraid 

love will vanish 

when we are alone we are afraid 

love will never return

and when we speak we are afraid 

our words will not be heard 

nor welcomed 

but when we are silent 

we are still afraid 

So it is better to speak 

remembering 

we were never meant to survive.”

Audre Lorde, The Black Unicorn: Poems

And still I dream.

“Sometimes we are blessed with being able to choose the time and the arena, and the manner of our revolutions, but more usually we must do battle where we are standing.”

 In his monumental work ‘In Search of Lost Time‘, Marcel Proust transposed under the name of Balbec.

trans·pose  (trns-pz)

v. trans·posed, trans·pos·ing, trans·pos·es

v.tr.

1. To reverse or transfer the order or place of; interchange.

2. To put into a different place or order: transpose the words of a sentence. See Synonyms at reverse.

3. Mathematics: To move (a term) from one side of an algebraic equation to the other side, reversing its sign to maintain equality.

4. Music: To write or perform (a composition) in a key other than the original or given key.

5. To render into another language.

6. To alter in form or nature; transform.

v.intr.

1. Music. To write or perform music in a different key.

2. To admit of being transposed.

n. Mathematics (trnspz)

A matrix formed by interchanging the rows and columns of a given matrix.

Coup de foudre

Pronunciation: [coo d(eu) foodr(eu)]

Meaning: bolt of lightning, love at first sight.

Poetry Challenge #20: SOUL TALK

Hello, everyone!

Today’s Poetry Challenge is to re-write Frank O’Hara’s Lines for the Fortune Cookies.

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http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lines-for-the-fortune-cookies/

The ideal fortune is a one-liner. Please send me your ideas for fortune cookies!

Here are my offerings:

Which came first the fortune cookie or the egg?

The future starts any minute now.

When I look into your eyes I see a Do Not Disturb sign.

Your dream is still to be claimed by you.

Run your own marathon race don’t walk a mile in my shoes.

If you’re going somewhere over the rainbow take an umbrella.

Instead of taking the stairs two at a time live on the ground floor.

Every picture tells a story so where’s yours?

Invisible ink is no reflection on you.

The next person who asks you to dance will understand you.

Enlightenment for Dummies? Be Zen for the hell of it!

If you want to meet me in person leave your gun home. 

You can take a horse to water but don’t expect the horse to pay for the drinks.

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Poetry Challenge: #18: Time Lapse

Opening scene.

journeyonfoot

Journey on foot.

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A series of shots.

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Verdi’s Messa da Requiem fades in,

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overlapping for a brief moment with a ghost image.

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The scene freezes;

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Opening credits roll and scene fades to black.

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The Requiem continues an audible transition to the second scene.

Poetry Writing Challenge #16: Riddles in Rainy Weather

The challenge for today is to pick a language that you don’t know, and then translate a poem in that language.

Use the sound and shape of the words and lines to guide you, without worrying too much about whether your translation makes sense!

I chose to translate a poem written in Norwegian from a collection called Regnværsgåter (Riddles in Rainy Weather) by Gro Dahle.

HVEM ER DET SOM VENTER PÅ DEG UANSETT HVA DU HAR GJORT UANSETT HVA DU HAR SAGT MYKERE ENN DU HADDE TENKT BEDRE ENN DU KUNNE HUSKE?

Puten din
i det slitte gamle trekket
Et eneste stort kinn
av omfavnelse

Have they met some Ventura (good fortune) perhaps inserted afar? You have jotted down “Inserted Afar”, you have said Mercury in the Heavens; think betraying them, you can help?

Put it down!
I do slither as gamblers trekked.
And earnestly sought out kindred spirits
Above the state of OM (primordial vibration),
Five nails I see.

Below is the correct translation of the poem.

WHO IS WAITING FOR YOU REGARDLESS OF WHAT YOU HAVE DONE REGARDLESS OF WHAT YOU HAVE SAID SOFTER THAN WHAT YOU HAD THOUGHT BETTER THAN WHAT YOU COULD RECALL?

Your pillow
in the worn old cover
One big cheek
of embrace

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Poetry Writing Challenge #13

National Poetry Writing Month (also known as NaPoWriMo) is a creative writing project held annually in April in which participants attempt to write a poem each day for one month.

Today is Day 13 of the challenge… I heard from a trusted source that it’s not too late to enter the challenge!

“Your prompt for today is simply to take a walk. Make notes — mental or otherwise — on what you see on your walk, and incorporate these notes into your poem. A bit more serene and observational than yesterday, and hopefully a nice, calming poem to begin your weekend with.”

Paper Dance Steps

She

CUTS       an old-fashioned

dress

pattern

into paper dance steps

for left        and right

FOOT.

She lays the makeshift choreography on the frozen sidewalk

directly below her ninth floor Boston apartment.

She counts from 1 to 100

for her partner to appear.

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