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 |   Scanty snippets on/of poetry |
A poet has to manifest herself in a safe environment. This is such a place for my early baby steps. The wonders of the world and my inner thoughts mingle. They become one. It’s a journey of the soul, a spark of the mind, and a bit of spit. For more "Poet @ Work 2"  [18+], "In honest simple verse" [E]  On the other hand: it might be a brooding place for challenges and poetry contests, some of which required ONE STAR RATING. (In case somebody wonders about the
 gracing this blog) A large group of writers participated in this challenge that required to rate as low as possible. So, it doesn't mean this blog is a bad blog or that they reviewed mean, it was required and this is the consequence. Alas! |
| April 29—the penultimate [Not the last] Not the last But at least The penultimate Still, one to go One poem to create One day One effort One last time Thirty poems for thirty days Almost over Almost done Gone!
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| April 28—a favorite specific tree (in honor of Arbor day) The Almond Blossom by Vincent van Gogh Blue, blue, White and pink blossom: The Almond Blossom By Vincent van Gogh A tree as never A tree was Magnificent painting! So delicate, so true The hue of blue And blossom
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| April 27—an outdoor setting, anywhere in the open King’s Day in The Netherlands Our King is fifty today, hurray So I went to a street party yesterday Bands, music, beer and fun All to your honor, hon The flea markets for the kids today and the ride through the country for the Majesty.
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| April 26—an office setting, or office politics [Sometimes I miss] Sometimes I miss the gossip at the coffee machine But not that often
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| April 25—a remembered holiday Land of Incarnadine Earth In memoriam W. Vogt-Gossiaux In memoriam L. van Geenen-Vogt I’ve been to the land of pinkish red earth Where the houses white with bright crimson rooftops Where the houses brown with pale grey plates The sky warm en moist and odorous For trees and incarnadine earth  six, five, six, seven, six, five, six, sevensix, five, six, seven, six, five, three, two Daughter of incarnadine earth With green and greener, greenest Light of the sun, bright light of the sun On the brownest of earth Aqueous water, yellow, sandstone and grass six, five, six, seven, six, five, six, sevensix, five, six, seven, six, five, three, two Squatting and looking and feeling in earth My feet, my toes, my ankles, my legs Deep into the earth, deep into the sand Deep into this land of incarnadine earth Sings my heart, calls my heart, sounds my heart six, five, six, seven, six, five, six, sevensix, five, six, seven, six, five, three, two I watched your crags with both my eyes I have felt your rocks with both my arms Lines of melancholy and truth and worth six, five, six, seven, six, five, six, sevensix, five, six, seven, six, five, three, two White rock, green land Incarnadine earth Note ▼ This is an older poem I created last year of my trip to Sumatra, Indonesia in 1999.
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| April 24—starting all over again [If I was to do it again] If I was to do it again Going back Memories of good times Linger on The rest is gone See more Enjoy more Experience more There is only one chance Reliving is only An option In your mind Or Write your Memoirs!
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| April 23—a sonnet (traditional or a contemporary variation) [When thinking of demise and decay] When thinking of demise and decay I often flinch in the middle squinting my eyes I may talk to deaf ears here a little. This elderly woman of eighty-three my stepmom, widow of my late dad to say the least, it saddens me sometimes it makes me mad She has nothing arranged in case of her death So, if she was to go suddenly leave this earth, she let me dangling to and fro I wish for her to go to the local undertaker and pay in advance before she meets her maker!
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| April 22—two of something, doubleness A pair A pair Is two Is one and one Equals A pair of eyes A pair of ears A pair of hands I can hug you with, my dearest
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| April 21—a coming of age poem Thirteen Thirteen years old: Too little for loving Too big for a sitter That awkward phase of heat and hate Of filly or fox When you don’t know what’s coming All you know it doesn’t matter Because Life hurts so bad sometimes. First crush, first Kiss First break-up! First pain Second crush Awww, to be thirteen, again…
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| April 20—a lingering fear or regret A lingering fear that one morning my words run out and black space is all I see Writer’s block: A blank page and a blinking cursor and a Muse in hiding.
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| April 19—in the middle of something or somewhere In the middle In the middle of something Stuck between what was and what will be Past, Present & Future as one Dream on! Life’s illusion is Time
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| April 18—good news or bad news, maybe in letter form Dear Dad Dear Dad, One year and four months ago I got this phone call at 1 p.m. Your wife said something like: “Your dad has passed away.” I didn’t understand what she said at first I asked her to repeat what she said And when she said it again I could not believe what I just heard. “Your dad has passed away.” Within the hour I was at your home Looking at your body on the bed: Eyes closed, pale face, no motion You were dead So dead and cold I hold numerous memories of your existence in my heart. You played a part in my life for decades. Thank you for that Dear Dad!
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| April 17—a blue Monday or a manic Monday, your pick Manic Monday It’s Easter Monday but No time to relax There are twelve things on my to-do list For the day The most important one:  breath in and out
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| April 16—explore the color of an abstraction* (inspired by Cappucine & Alfred)! The color of peace White nebula on a dream Of people coexisting together Peacefully In harmony Without stress or pressure Without war or hatred White nebula on a dream! Your hazy pixels eliminate the view of tomorrow
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| April 15—money Money Always too little… Freedom to live life to the fullest You cannot eat it but it keeps you from starving You cannot drink it but it taste like nectar The world depends on money It kills, cheats and corrupts But we cherish its existence to the extreme! Coins, paper, cards, bank accounts Without it, we’re lost. The devil is in the numbers.
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| April 14—a superpower The Sun Immortal being of yellow bright Radiant fire Warm hottest light Life’s beam of might and mercy The Sun: star, goddess Savior of green and growth Till the end of days, you shine. Till the end of days we worship. Without you there is zilch With you we thrive, we prosper, we flourish. Helicon of heat and heights Above where the Muse & the Poets resides.
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| April 13—a secret joy Ice cream Mint chocolate chip, Stracciatella Pistachio, Rum and Raisins, Vanilla. The thing you can wake me up for in the middle of the night. I scream Ice cream! Three servings, three scoops A cherry on top, embedded in whipped cream: a dream Ice cream, ice cream!
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| April 12—a pet peeve (or several of them) My dog Arie My dog when young and silly Peed on the floor willy nilly I told him he was bad He peed once more instead —Had to change carpets. He (two thousand bucks later!) left it at that.
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| April 11—genetics, the gene, or a mutation Family! acrostic Family is more important than I ever anticipated As they are responsible for the first baby steps My DNA covers margins on illnesses and diseases I am but a mere product of my father and mother Life: Biology & genetics determine me You get older and it’s back to its basics !Darn!
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| April 10—extreme weather Loop poetry on Colombia’s recent toll O Colombia, far away land Land’s slides after water fall Fall into the night Night’s terror, hundreds dead Dead under rubble Rubble’s mud, streams of death Death’s cold fingers Fingers point at climate change Change your policy, Presidents of this world! (sorry, alfred booth, wanbli ska  another loop poetry. I like this form  )
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