Robert, what a powerful piece! This should prove to be quite a thought-provoking prompt.

THE TALE OF TWO MEN

It was the best of times,
it was the worst of times.
When you're a Bills fan,
the latter predominates.
You take ten weeks to learn to walk,
only to trip over your clodhoppers
when you take the ball and run.
You hold a conference to press the facts,
and proclaim Gailey that you found your man.
Did you look for him?
Did your radar point him out?
Or did you trip over his lifeless career
as it lay at your revolving door?
The mumbles of a decrepit nonagenarian
through the drawl of a scapegoat GM,
sound eerily the same as history offers.
Positioning you to take on 2010
allowing it to bitch slap you into submission,
and another position on the golf course
once February of 2011 settles in.

Excellent Robert...sorry to hear of the seizures that can be scary.

Thanks, Susan and Hannah! Yeah, my ex-wife (and mother of my two oldest boys) has been suffering through the seizures. It's really amazing how many she has had since a few days before Christmas after never having one. It's like as soon as she turned 30 (a day or so before her first seizure) her brain started going crazy. Hopefully, they can get it under control.

From your words to God's ears, Robert!

Mankind Unites

The world they once belonged to has crumbled in a pile,
and every day that passes creates a another trial.
Their bodies yearn for mending. So great are their demands.
But comfort comes to them in aid from man’s unselfish hands.

Wow,Robert! Strong piece! Felt it all the way through. Certainly a thought-provoking prompt. W

OVERVIEW

The old year is over
A new one begins
2010 beckons all
To start fresh, avoid sins

January joins us
In a fight against cold
Too many from Haiti
Will never grow old

The good earth has spoken
Aftershock quakes today
People are trying
To keep panic at bay

The new year has brought the U.S.
An anniversary too
A full year of being President
What next will Barack do?

Soon the world will focus on
That sporting tradition so old
Each nation's athletes competing
Who will win precious gold?

2010 has arrived with a vengeance
Will the next months all be so bold?

Peppermint Patti

Best and Worst of 2010 thus far

New
Year
spent with
dearest friends.
Share memories; joy
in forming new ones to treasure.
Plane to Florida, mixed blessing,
cousins we have missed,
Mom alone
since my
Dad’s
death.

Robert- love your poem and so sorry you are having to go through that...but 30 is VERY young, and hopefully, they can get to the root of the problem!

laurie k.

Lies

“She’s gay? Oh my God-
what about the kids?
And her marriage of
thirty years,
did she think it was
all for fun?”
I cried over a
death of someone alive,
yet who she says she
is, unknown.
The hurt,the lies,
go beyond
feelings recognized;
as I mourn the death
of someone I knew,
amidst all the
heart-breaking lies.

laurie k.

Walleye Madness

No one from our family
Was there to watch Wylie
The Walleye drop down from
the old year into 2010..

The weather was perfect, just
Below freezing – not like last
Year with below-zero cold.
Someone has always gone there

To witness the big plastic fish
Welcome in the new year, Which
Everyone wanted to be somewhat
Better than the one that was past.

The guys sat in the garage, tossing
Wood in the wood stove. The beer
Flowed like forever, the women made
Food, they danced to the music sang

“Auld Lang Syne” at the right moment
While the little ones slept in the house
With me, Grandma, making sure that
At midnight, I would not awake.

Although, as expected, some woke up
Crying when the neighbors’ rifles
Shot into the woods. Some else feeling
Lively let loose firecrackers while I

Told the kids to go back to sleep. Once
I looked forward to a new year upon us
Once I believed better times were ahead.
Last year my son took his wife to watch Wylie

Who would have guessed that would be her
Last time? Saying good-bye to the old year
Hello to the new. They drank to her memory
While I hid my head in the blankets, trying

Not to remember all those gay celebrations,
Dancing in the decades with kisses and hugs
How foolish we were to believe that forever
Held promises of pleasure for the rest of our lives.

I understand now why that song “Auld Lang Syne”
Bring tears to the old folks, I’ve learned what it
Means. Good-bye to the good times, to all our old
friends. A full cup of Kindness we’ll pass on to the young.

Persistence

Amidst earthquakes and
Political fiascoes
The sun still rises

Another good one Susan. Robert so sorry your family is going through such trials. Good poem, though.


I’m Melting

I look out on the foot
of newly fallen snow.
Cars, trees, houses, hedges
all lost their definition in
white, lumpy, roundness.
The view in the mirror reminds
me of the winterscape.
Good thing I lost eight pounds.
Maybe the snow will melt.

Walleye Madness

No one from our family
Was there to watch Wylie
The Walleye drop down from
the old year into 2010..

The weather was perfect, just
Below freezing – not like last
Year with below-zero cold.
Someone has always gone there

To witness the big plastic fish
Welcome in the new year, Which
Everyone wanted to be somewhat
Better than the one that was past.

The guys sat in the garage, tossing
Wood in the wood stove. The beer
Flowed like forever, the women made
Food, they danced to the music sang

“Auld Lang Syne” at the right moment
While the little ones slept in the house
With me, Grandma, making sure that
At midnight, I would not awake.

Although, as expected, some woke up
Crying when the neighbors’ rifles
Shot into the woods. Some else feeling
Lively let loose firecrackers while I

Told the kids to go back to sleep. Once
I looked forward to a new year upon us
Once I believed better times were ahead.
Last year my son took his wife to watch Wylie

Who would have guessed that would be her
Last time? Saying good-bye to the old year
Hello to the new. They drank to her memory
While I hid my head in the blankets, trying

Not to remember all those gay celebrations,
Dancing in the decades with kisses and hugs
How foolish we were to believe that forever
Held promises of pleasure for the rest of our lives.

I understand now why that song “Auld Lang Syne”
Bring tears to the old folks, I’ve learned what it
Means. Good-bye to the good times, to all our old
friends. A full cup of Kindness we’ll pass on to the young.

IT CRAWLS FROM DAY TO DAY

We can say the year’s an infant
hardly to be taken seriously.
It crawls from day to day,
it voices wordless sounds
beyond our comprehension,
and what swims in its head
can be goldfish or piranha.
Only the coming months will tell.

We can say the year is spanking new.
But the first of its twelve months
roars snow blizzard-crazy,
and Baby 2010 has tossed its baby’s rattle,
a tragic earthquake down Haiti’s streets
and who knows what February
holds in store beyond hearts and flowers.
Then there's Marchwith its deceptive smile.

We can say the year can’t be worse than last
though we say the same thing every year.
Loved ones die; jobs go kaput,
rivers so long placid turn beastly
lightning strikes again and again
another major bank goes under
war rages on still one more year
and some nutso Aztec calendar

is telling us to love the new year
and love the next new one too
because at December’s end 2012
we’ll all be spending our last breaths
whistling funeral dirges
dodging flaming meteorites
waxing nostalgic for the good old days
of this year that time dropped in our laps

#

Connie, I'm Melting - it took me a while, but I finally got it and I loved it! Thanks for your comment.

Marian, very moving. Well done.

The Best and Worst (so far)

a beach full of white stones
and a sea that teases, tempting you close
then rushing in, trying to grab your toes
or crash against the sea wall
and soak your Christmas-new jacket
with the scent of crabs and old herring
as you walk past
working off the best fish and chips in the world.

the morning after
as your first cup of coffee steams
in the cold January air
a facebook message
from a distant relative:
"sorry to hear of your father's passing --
he was a good man"
and your sister, who lives there,
never mentioned it when you phoned.

So far: Marian, Salvatore, and Rachel, excellent stuff!

...

X.O.

Three o'clock has come and gone,
glacier-fashion, frigid as the tower bells strike,
strike, strike, and the night is streaking
over the asphalt
accusations of our endothermic huddling:
curled up like whipped hounds
in the backseat sweating drops of brandywine
or massaging our agonies, or
even just flexing our ill-used contemplation,
extensors muttering in tune with
windswept world, while the road salt
freezes over and cracks and we hear glass
shattering in time with raised voices,
coloratura of the parking lot
lone vehicle standing sentinel in all that black
with three thin aimless inside:
positively Arctic
alone and argumentative, shivering down
to the subatomic level, but I'm still sure
there's none I'd rather go hypothermic with
than you
your gloves in mine
trading the impulses of the hands
while our charge snores softly and dreams
brandywine dreams, and the world is waiting
for us to cease
but it will be sorely disappointed when
the tower strikes, strikes, strikes, strikes four.

When will it rain? I mean
buckets, a real downpour
to wash out our skin tone
and fill the reservoirs?
And when will work press on?

So far in this young year
it's stop and go, downtime
and unbillable hours.
And when will Obama
be the damn president?

I just want to shake him
and say, “Those people aren’t
your friends. You can’t raise them
to a civil mindset.
So—now—flex your power.”

Just like a Democrat:
great ideas, no guts.



DA
(Green)

Wow, Joseph!

POETRY IN THE CLASSROOM

I’m looking down on the map
of words some poet strung.
What if this girl slips on the syllables
yet somehow limns the edges

golden? Cubicles, closets, oubliettes
of feeling and thought
open through the crevices of
grammar, the biology or algebra

of language. Listen. Dark of stars
an ecstatic poet guessed,
gazing into the ancient stone.
More than words on paper.

I QUIT THE GAME

T.S. Eliot was wrong when he said
"April is the cruelest month" -
Give me January any day!
We began at Nature Friends -
My friends and I,
Dancing wildly through the light show
To Michael Jackson's immortal melodies
Elfin like hair turning green;
Clothes bedecked with color-changing flowers.
Several days later was reminded about Resolutions:
The dreaded New Beginnings of the New Year;
For what are New Years' Resolutions
But January's harsh paint thinner
That dissolves December's glitter
Revealing the underlying drabness
Of the mundane.
But the best part about Resolutions
Is that they are voluntary, not mandatory
So I turned
And I said
I quit the somber resolution game,
Tossing my hair I went back up the hill to Nature Friends
And faced the new year not with grim resolve
But with the joy of the last embers of Christmastime.

After New Year's Eve

It rained that night and she had
no one to kiss. No hand to hold.
She didn't want to be at a party
with people she didn't know.
He was so far away and all she
wanted was to spin the earth
and bring him home. But when he
returned all he brought were
fighting words and tears for two.
They were both so young and words like
"I love you" were just too hard to say.
She almost died the night they said
goodbye and he called her the day she
walked out of the hospital. He won her
back. She had lived and he slipped his
long fingers into her tiny hand and they
shared a new year's kiss.

EARTHQUAKE

The camera pans left to right over a city
halfway around the globe in ruins. Jump-cut
to a C-130 on the tarmac, rescuers with search-
dogs off-loading. 30 years ago, that
could’ve been you.
Too old now; your dog long dead
and buried. Camera dissolves from street-scene
rubble to a daughter sobbing for her father.
A dog picks a careful way across the pile; finds
a chink, an opening; wrinkles through;
disappears. Who needs a camera? Follow
the dog in your mind down branching voids.
Headlamp focuses scraps of fabric, chair-leg;
table-saw up-ended. A garage. Another
aftershock. How earth tugs
at the human body. Crawl through the smashed
back window of a car, out the windshield.
This is where your dog stops, tail wagging low
and slow; nuzzles at the ground; her breath
lifts the tousled hair of – a man? is he
alive? The dog tells you with her eyes.

Just reading through these now. I was struck by a lot of them- great images! Wow so many things have already happened, and the year is young.

Robert, I hope things get better quickly with your ex-wife. Scary.

Susan Schoeffield and Cara, I loved your short but powerful pieces on the earthquake- the fear and destruction but also the hope and help that is also there.

Sara McNulty- I got the chills. Warm sentiment shines through, but then we learn someone is missing.

Connie- what a nice picture you have painted, this made me laugh!

Rachel- a beautiful. festive scene and then the punch. How awful, I'm sorry to hear it... and from Facebook, that has to be one of the worst places to receive serious news.

That's as far as I read. I'm going to work on mine now!

Happy New Year to all, it's so nice to have these weekly poetry connections.

Robert . . . this title could certainly apply to what you and your family are going through. Family upheaval is traumatic to say the least let alone when there is a health crisis to boot. Best wishes for you and your family . . . hang in there!



UPHEAVAL

Not one month along,
Mother Earth pushed her point,
And Haiti’s world toppled down.
New hope was also born.
With rescues and clues from the rubble!
Closer to home the writing style,
Changed just as fast!
Years of one focus and poof!
A whole new positive direction,
Changed emphasis has pushed in,
An instant taking down of what had been created,
Now restated . . .

It all feels oddly related.

"Heartbeat Music"

Metronome ticks time
stands still I face you.
In the space betwen
seconds your eyes
blink and I can see
you are leaving.
The clock measures
the distance between
you and me. Dancing
in music laughter
friends surround me
for a second I stand
still and listen for
your heartbeat.

CALM…

The holidays are far behind
me but not forgotten. Left with
no energy, drive, will, time, breath.
Unrealistic fears: dying -

me, us, them; worries; uselessness.
Little patience; short deadlines; their
raised voices. Bitten tongues. Rolled eyes.
Scathing retorts. Superior

attitudes. Great expectations.
Waning enthusiasm. Don't
care; don't want to. Just let me lie
here. Go away. Leave me alone -

undisturbed, unafraid. Silence.
We've lived another year. I will
move on - forward. Let us pray for
Serenity, Courage, Wisdom,

W

And of course, despite proofreading, it should end with a period - not comma!

A Heart So Full

My heart shares in feelings of good and bad.
Glad, just to see another new year, my kids getting on with their lives.
My grandbaby growing up so beautifully.
But, my heart feels the sorrow of my son moving to another town, my
daughter-n-law going off the war, the signs of aging creeping in.
The feelings of life is changing, and people are going on with their lives.
Life is good, at least I have all these things to keep me going, it just makes me start growing a little wiser.

Port Au Prince

I saw a photograph...
a thousand words
which turned into
two hundred thousand
or more
and yet,
it couldn’t even begin
to say enough.

On Leaving Rutgers in the Rain

We speed north,
passing gas tanks,
accidents, exits,
Newark runways.
Just one wrong skid,
and the crash we saw,
the balls of crushed steel,
could be us, gone.
I must remember:
hope is wound
up in all this--
the highway,
rain, good-byes.
A new life! For him!
Only now it's just wipers,
headlights,metal,
a hollow heart.

To Keep From Crying

All I could think of was
how hard the ground must be
when they dig graves in the winter.
Does the backhoe strain
like the backs of the pallbearers?
Does it lean towards the grave
like the family?

Best and Worst

Slap with a caress
Biting tone with a downward edge
Slinking into softness with a razorblade and meaningful wrist strokes
Waiting for morning when night isn’t
Finished
Drinking from our half filled glasses
None of which can be determined by the measurements that don’t
Apply if we aren’t here
Aren’t we all things at once?

IT WAS

The best of times,
Along came rhymes.

The worst,
Not well versed.

Trials and triumphs,
Small children without enough!

Glory days,
Earth that sways,

Great heights for a new candidate,
Fear of more loss creates a worried fate.

Hosts and shows at war late night.
Sadness, concern and people’s plight!

And yet . . .

How can we not band together,
Even in this soggy weather.

Pull out the strength that guides us on.
Not feel quite so put upon.

Take those little moments spent,
Think loving thoughts,

Know in your heart it's time well spent!

John F. Murray

Your last four lines are especially poignant and beautifully stated. Takes me right to the moment and the feeling in your piece. Great work!

Robert - sorry to hear about your ex-wife. I'm sure that is very scary for your boys. I hope they get to the bottom of quickly for all of you.


Inversion

In early January
Negative double digits made us
Vulnerable to frost bitten skin;
Enter the second week and we
Reverse direction with balmy
Swings in temperature, giving us a chance to
Inhale fresh air without freezing our lungs but knowing this is
Only a respite and then the
Negative numbers will return to numb us once again.

There

All drum beats end
eventually, either
due to a deliberate
change in the beat
or exhausted arms.

Popcorn pops, moths
flip out, flicker into
silence before hitting
the bowels of our bellies.
What am I talking about?

Yesterday is no witness
to today, yet recalls
quite quickly, annoyingly
what happened yesterday.
And then there is tomorrow.

I guess the point I’m making,
or not making at all, is that here
is a year counted in days, weeks,
months, yet they are so random
and maybe the point all that time
is trying to make is there is no point
and that we should just try living,
not by drum beats in time, but by
popcorn, moths, without witnessing
time.

Monday, January 20, 2010
A beautiful baby girl entered our family. A cousin, born approximately 1:30 p.m.
Mother’s arms and heart are abundantly full.

Monday, January 20, 2010
A beautiful baby girl entered our family. A cousin, born approximately 7:00 a.m.
Died approximately 8:00 a.m.
Mother left with empty arms, and hollow heart.

Wow ... great stuff out here. Good prompt. Among the excellence, these really stood out to me...


Robert: Powerful poem. My youngest daughter is epileptic. It can be a frightening thing to witness, let alone go through. May God give your boys strength and understanding. Amen to Walt’s comment.

And speaking of #1 … I feel your pain. ;)

Marian: My daughter was there to see the Walleye Drop for the first time this year. I’m so sorry about your daughter-in-law.

Iseul G.: Excellent.

Rachel. Sara, Joseph, Salvatore, RJ, Taylor, John F. Murray: Powerful poetry.

Removed



If this house was on a fault line,
one side slipped east, the other west,
could we jump the opening crack,
unity preserved in chaos?
Or this nation--its wobbly world
sitting on swiftly shifting plates--
can unity endure chaos?

Robert, let's pray just as mysteriously as your ex-wife's seizures began they will leave. All things with God are possible.

Salvatore

"Persistence" is interesting.

Very short and to the point, it covers a lot. Persistence can be valued or described. Could be the nature of events.

Each day the sun rises ... the emergence of light, wisdom, knowledge, or perhaps opportunity, challenge and struggle. Each day the sun sets ... rest, darkness, strong emotional stirrings, maybe new and different struggles.

A theme in this poem seems to be outer events. Wisdom rarely finds its way to the seats of power, yet the electorate can also be fickle. So democracy can be a romance in turmoil with a clueless partner and an emotive spouse.

So we struggle in a clueless way toward the common good while a very angry mother nature rumbles the earth with an earthquake. Is this an object lesson of some sorts? Hard to tell.

Still working on this week's prompt, but I needed to share my recent experience with you guys: I just attended a 3-day writer's workshop and conference in Cape May, NJ, a fantastic "getaway" staying at the Grand Hotel there and immersing myself in poetry. I got to meet poet Mark Doty and took a workshop with Stephen Dunn; I hobnobbed with poetry friends old and new, and wrote four new poems during that weekend. It was great!

TWENTY-ONE DAYS OF INTERESTING OCCURENCES

Days one through seven were typical of a new year,
but on the eighth day,
I suffered what I thought was a heart attack,
landing me in the hospital for a few hours,
hooked up to leads,
blood pressure cuffs,
heart monitors,
and an occasional thermometer.

I left in the early morning
with a diagnosis of an intestinal virus
which was affecting my liver –
not good news for a brand-new year.

After a week,
the compression in my chest finally subsided
and I can breathe again without pain.

On the 12th,
my son returned for only a moment,
but my excitement level soared,
for I have not seen him since June 13th of last year.

The weekend of the 15th through the 17th
was spent in the company of my favorite cousins,
working on my writing projects,
and finally, restful sleep.

The 18th was a holiday,
for others, but not for me.

For me, it was a day of work and doctor visits.
My editing job lasted from noon till 10:45 at night.
Thank God, I enjoy my work.

That brings me to my last three days,
including today, which is once again a day of work…
beginning with an online chat with my best friend,
and creating this poem
of twenty-one days of interesting occurrences.

I’m sure they were only interesting to me.

However, in future years,
I will surely look back and read this poem,
and remember fondly
that I survived at least the first twenty-one days of 2010.

Balancing Act

Less snow than last winter,
but another dead hen:
dear Amelia, buried near
her sister on the mountain;
fatigue sets in again, yet
not as deep as the year past:
there is some brightness
between the clouds
and life left to live.

Dennis

Your verbiage and exploration of topics is interesting and creates a profound stirring for a philosophical view of life that echoes light, wisdom and knowledge. It opens us to man’s search for what has meaning and depth and connection to something greater! I find your contributions to be stimulating mentally, emotionally, intellectually and spiritually. They are poetic in terms of what you allow us to see and hear from your perspective. Thank you!

Auld Lang Syne

ball dropping
hope building
earth splitting
hope dying

hands helping
hearts praying
lives mending
hope building

Genesis

January is the worst of it. New beginnings and all that big hurrah as she still pines for the fullness and sparkle and joy of December. Heart empty as wall space where the wreaths hung only weeks ago, taste of cinnamon and song still on her lips, quiet now, held in. The tragedies come pouring in, one at a time. Always in January. Never too close to home, just near enough for empathy, sadness, fervent prayers, late nights pondering the why. She counts them on her fingers, one-two-three, at least three every year, always in January. This year, breath held in both chest and throat, she prayed Haiti counted. But no, apparently not close enough for full discomfort. On the 16th one more comes, yes, there it is. Three. Will three be enough this year, or is there a hungry January Tragedy god she should somehow be appeasing?

January is the best of it. New beginnings and all that big hurrah as tentative arms embrace a new year. New resolves, new plans, though she has never been a fan of new. Births come, too, of course, new life in the form of tiny toes, newborn smell. She breathes it in, thankful for breath. Waits for February, short and sweet.

A few comments:
Robert - I hope things get better in your family situation. It's serious business.

I didn't read before posting my poem but now see that several of us commented on the tragic events in Haiti yet underscored our pieces with hope. If the people there can only feel that and hold onto it...

Marie Elena - My heart aches for any new mom who loses her baby. So sad.

Kit Cooley - really enjoyed your piece, lovely and poignant

Bruce - What a great weekend you describe! Sounds like the kind of experience that will keep fueling great writing for a long time. Cape May is one of my favorites places, too. I'm happy for you.

More comments after more reading.

De - "Genesis" is wonderful, just so -- well, so De -- and gives more reason for hope. Glad you're at home with us.

Amen to Salvatore's prayer.

My dear Marie, that's heartbreaking...I'm so sorry for your family's loss.

I read and migrated away...I had a mental specifics but really overall this weeks poems are AWESOME!

I envy you guys this prompt is proving difficult for me...I'll be back...

What is best about 2010 is that we meant it when we said, “… for better or worse,” back in 1991.

Penny: Good questions; poetically put.

Bruce: Neat! (um … puns have run amok today at Micro Poetry … it’s addicting) But, seriously, that sounds like a wonderful time. Thanks for sharing it with us out here, who are surely ALL jealous. :)

Linda: Interesting, indeed! Glad you are better.

Kit: All the same, weary words that I use to describe what I like are all that will come to mind. There is the perfect word for how your sweet little poem made me feel, but it escapes me. So I will just say: nice work.

Theresa and De: Always in love with your words and sentiments. I’m so glad you are both back … it was too long a dry spell.

Theresa and Hannah: Thank you for your compassion.

Sweet Hannah, I’ve struggled with this prompt as well. I can’t put my finger on it, as it seems a great prompt that leaves much to ponder.

Janet,

I am attempting some analysis. I started reading poems a little over a year ago for themes in an attempt explore what I think and feel about those themes.

Ain’t it the best of times?
Ain’t it the worst? Ain’t it
always the juice of life
here, it’s endless shit there
on the fulcrum of mind

teetering…teetering…?
Business as usual—
then the quake that totals
Heaven, Haiti and Hell—
and everyone screams “Why?!”

Business unusual:
massive cleanup routines,
sorting—but critical
work as life balances
on the crux of the heart…

Best and worst, yes it is.
The times, the times, the times….



DA

The Nature of Events
(at least according to Einstein)

Time is a space
on the fabric
of all that exists:
space a time in life.

In this place
the earth shook
and space was a time
that tore at lives.

Time and Space meld
together as do you and I
forever together we are
but tell me, why do we cry?

Appointment
I arrived on time, comfortable with myself, calm.
“We have no appointment scheduled.”
I will wait, calmly and talk to the doctor.
“You are wasting your time; we have not got your name in our system.”
I read my magazines, noting that I feel warm and safe.
Time ascends and I regret not bringing the card.
The card is the issue here, something secure, but no card.
“I can make another appointment for you.”
Ok, nothing to lose but time, and health and my pride.
I return home, find the card and make a copy for confirmation.
I have not been disgraced, I was right, and I mailed that proof.
Enough said.

NEW YEARS DAY 2010

January 1, 2010.
A page had been turned
closing the book on tumult
and uncertainty; an unfine '09.
Disruption played games on the
fabric of my life, pulling
at the threads woven into
my imperfect tapestry.
Unraveling and tattering,
a testimony to my existence.
Discoveries made, partners lost,
illness diagnosed and lingering.
Finding a voice for my emotion,
giving my muse wings with which
to fly and soar, building friendships
and nurturing their compassion,
fashioning a connection, faceless,
yet full of heart. An undeclared
love inherent in the touching of souls.

And so a newness comes to roost,
giving a boost to my spirit and
offering the promise of another
new tomorrow, no sorrow or depression,
just anticipation of each new day.
One step at a time in this cosmic
waltz called life, rife with
other such serendipitous lulls
in the music that plays internally.
Until your next disappointment
rears its head. Higher triglycerides.
A blood pressure erratic and rising.
PSA numbers, a new cause for concern.
A remission as your shield and badge of honor.
And you learn to deal with the frailty,
and the relentless slap of mortality.
Expressing each tragic truth as if
it were someone else's pain.
Praying your sense of humor holds out
as long as you'll be able to do.

Baby New Year

Aging faster than dog years,
the New Year’s baby goes
in mere days from talk of the town
to passe. The tree is dismantled,
ornaments boxed, strings of light
rewound, resolutions forgotten
before the ink on the list has dried.

We fail to give the child a second thought.
Where does he go in the intervening months
before emerging late in December
to the annual soundtrack,
the scratchy old Guy Lumbardo record
of “Auld Lang Syne” late in December,
back bent over his cane, hoary beard grown
beyond the limits of credibility?

I like to think that, instead of simply
hibernating, he hovers like a small
and secular guardian angel, nursed
on champagne, quietly, invisibly hovering
lest we need a reminder that while
the young will grow old—the lucky,
that is—the cycle will begin again
and again, and not always
feted with black tie occasions.

Inspired from Michelle H's response to Robert.
And is a first attempt at a Villanelle, with
variation from tradition, was fun experimenting...


To The Bottom Quickly

To the bottom quickly, this January began descending,
into magnitudes, with epicenters from more than one event.
The year is young, and very heavy hitting.

The Earth is old, beneath an island nation quaking
tectonic plates, throwing entire cities to the ground, they went
to the bottom quickly, to early graves of rubble resting.

To the house quickly, to his ex-wife who is now suffering
involuntary seizures; he volunteered restless nights, worried spent.
The year is young, with plenty time and hope for healing.

The man is old, but his mind is young and dreams of mending,
relationships with grandchildren, he has not yet met. Heart bent
to the bottom, quickly he opens the door; hands happy trembling.

To the rebuilding quickly; the world turns and is turned by, helping,
volunteering, forgiving. The greatest shock, Love; reverberating sent.
The year is young, with opportunities for ancient truths relearning.

In his cave enchained, Loki struggles against the venom stinging.
Beneath deepest waters, Poseidon drives the steeds unrelenting
to the bottom, quickly urging mortal men, with tremors from trident.
The year is young, and very heavy hitting.

Daniel: “the quake that totals Heaven, Haiti and Hell” Many are the descriptions … few this pointed. Love the entire poem.

Dennis: “space was a time that tore at lives” I read through a bit hurriedly late last night, but it was this morning that the genius in this line struck me.

Sandi: I don’t know you, but I can picture you there. “…noting that I feel warm and safe” tugged at my heartstrings. You’ve given us a snapshot of the workings of your mind. Bless your heart. Hoping to see more of you out here.

Walt: I never cease to be amazed at your heart, your talent, and your willingness to divulge both. Of course, the display of talent is a naturally outcropping of your heart. I’m always, always wowed.

Nancy: Much imagery and wisdom contained in your short poem. Nicely done.

B.C. Strickland: So much contained in your piece, inspired by a quick line of encouragement penned by a fellow poet. It just doesn’t get any better than this.

"natural outcropping." Oops.

A Saraband for the Year at Hand

It’s still early – January.
So much has happened. Who’d ever
presuppose...Can’t sleep from worry.

A catastrophic earthquake hits
Haiti. Thousands die. All is rubble.
And then...John Anderson admits
paternity. News? Just trouble.

Upset elections. Golden Globes.
Criminals who think they’re clever.
Financial leaders under probes.

Football playoffs, Corporate ads. What?
American Idol (again.)
Unemployment. Health care woes but...
I’d really like some peace. Amen.

Thank you, Theresa & Marie Elena. It has been hard to "get going" this winter, and not just with writing. Patience is a difficult virtue.

So many strong images. Nice work, all.

Again another whole cluster of goodness, poets...Daniel, Dennis, Nancy, Walt, B.C., De, Theresa....more...always more. Thanks for this!

Thanks my dear Marie...glad I'm not the only one struggling with this one. :)



************************************
UNSEEN TREMORS

Stars appear, pinholes
in the fabric of night.
Moon is hung low...
low on the horizon;
an orange slice,
splicing the night,
sun's magic still.
Peace is prevalent
for me here, on this hill;
viewing the silent sky.
Turmoil, turbulence…
earth shifting, shuddering
an island so far from here...
Hearts bleed raw , a deep
compassion welling within.
Intense trauma severs,
Earth is splayed open…
entrails and emotion
color the clenched hands,
voices… hoarse with prayer.

Oooops - that should be 'John Edwards." Sorry.

Amen to peace Randi...thoughtful poem.

RJ: ALWAYS love your work!

OH MY HANNAH. ABSOLUTELY ONE OF YOUR VERY BEST, AND WELL WORTH THE WAIT. WOW. I know this is too many lines for Micro, but would you mind, please, if I share this with Claudette and the others at our writers' board? If you say no, I will certainly respect your wish, and will not take offense in any way.

2010 (The Year I'll Lose Contact)

Christopher has survived
Widowed twice
after nursing them both to the last
He is nearing the end after 25 years of hanging on

Body failing, humor intact
"I think they gave me four pints
of Neo-Con blood," he rasps
"Sara Palin was just on TV
and I got a woodie!"

This is my last close friend to let go
("If age doesn't get you, the meds still catch you by the heel")
To surrender to a greater peace
To breath out his last sense of life
And breathe in Creation
returning to the source of
the Jeffery and the Jimmy we so loved

We won't say goodbye
But our eyes will scream it in tears

Amy Barlow Liberatore (www.amybarlowmusic.com)

THE FUNK

January of any year,
Brings highlights of what has been.
Starting after the first day of cheer,
I also see what’s not been done.
Then in comes the winter funk,
Not just the chill in the air.
But the presence of the junk,
The awareness of equal despair!
Closets are a clutter,
The garage now has a path.
With the windows and shades, I shutter,
Enter . . . my own personal wrath!
I wonder why I’ve ignored it,
Pushed it all out of view!
Why would I prefer just to sit?
Other then the preference to write . . .
I really wish I knew.
When this clarity finally comes,
I have to fess up,
To the mess . . . yup!
And hail the beating drums!
I gather up my best impulsive energy,
And become a determined self.
Take on the tasks in front of me.
Beginning with the most overloaded shelf.
I light a candle for peace and calm,
Put on some gentle tunes.
Which edge away my hyper thinking like some soothing balm,
Taking on the visual ruins!
Then my muse comes out to play,
From somewhere deep inside!
Like a sunny, sunny happy day!
It starts me giggly with a joy useless to hide.
Suddenly this sport’s a game,
And fun starts bouncing around!
Now the miserable task is not the same,
In fact, I am dancing to the muse’s sound.
I begin making rhymes with old artifacts,
And talking to stray pictures,
Forgetting about any hard, cold facts,
This muse dance beats known cures.
I begin to relish this chance,
To clean away what’s old,
Now the work’s is an amusing dance.
A dynamic story not yet told.
Once it starts a-singing,
And my feet move to the inner jive!
I know that light hearted muse is bringing . . .

That old funk . . . alive!

More picks from the week so far...
Taylor: both of these are excellent :)
Iseul: very nice!
RJ: succinct and to the (very powerful) point, well done
Ann: I know that road well, in those conditions; excellent job bringing it to life
Marie Elena: oh man, that's rough stuff... a single day can truly bring the best and the worst at once
De Jackson: normally I don't like prose poetry, but this was superb ^_^
Amy: very moving, thanks for sharing this

BEST? WORST?

Phew!
Less than a month into 2010
This prompt has provoked many lines
Both happy and sad.
On this sunny Friday aft'
I'm left pondering
Will the rest of this new year
Be good or so bad?

The weekend now beckons to me
I guess we will just have to wait and to see
What 2010 brings to all poets
To you and to me.


To everyone: my condolences for those who have lost loved ones and wishes for the best in this year.

In a reflective state of mind, I went for a walk today and tried to really stay in the "now". Refreshed, I later wrote a small poem which I posted on my blog at http://pmpoetwriter.blogspot.com/2010/01/january-blue.html. If you want a look, check out my little "January Blue".

Have a great weekend, All!

Peppermint Patti

On Lungs and Life


She reminds herself
to breathe in and out.
That’s the thing.
The words will come back.
The page of the calendar will turn.
January’s wounds will begin to heal.
The year will get off to its true start
and she will breathe easier.
She knows that, but still
there are days when she needs reminding.
In. Out.
He gives and takes away.
You take the good, you take the bad.
Them’s just the facts, ma’am.
Crap happens, and life goes on
and
Joy
is
a
choice.
But for now, it has to be enough just to
Breathe.

Thus far…

And the old year ends
And the New Year starts
And its wet
And cold
And wet
And wetter
And colder
And toothache
And rain
And pain and rain
And rain that never ends
And still pain
And Valium
And dentists
And “cut my arm of if you like” happy-stoned
And pain and rain
And getting better
And snow at last but pain
And not skiing
And miserable
And working
And teaching
And still not skiing
And more wind and more snow
And the mountain is closed
And the pain wears off
And published
And published again
And happy!

Iain



Just to mention that in addition to bein in hard print in THe Reader (local Eng ang paper for my area in Spain) which they have agreed will be an every edition (twice monthly) publication for me, the amazing & talented Belinda Subraman included my short "visual echoes" in the visula poeaboration GAZE...if opur not on facebook, google Gypsy Art Show...in addition Belinda will read my poem on her radio show next week...happy happy happy...btw my it was....


visual echoes

winter sun on placid sea
dazzles and blinds
the mind reels
memories of dreams of hope
wash the beach, the soul
the depths hidden by the brilliance
of the surface: the superficial

Iain.

Brilliant work Iain!! Congrats to you!

Marie...thank you so, so much!! I don't even have words to describe how humbled I feel. I snagged the poem and poted it over there already! I appreciate your kindness it is so very inspiring!

Janet..."I gather up my best impulsive energy,And become a determined self." we can get sooo much done on this energy...excellent piece!

Pep. Patti...I like that, staying in the "now," good place to be!Have a happy weekend too!

Amy...thank you so much for sharing, so touching, "To surrender to a greater peace, To breath out his last sense of life..."

At least I know what I’ve got,
What I’m up against,
That’s the good thing.

The bad news is that I have
Confirmed the fact he is my
Own personal “cancer.”
It is a matter of public record,
Officially filed with the court,
Four times to be exact.
The worst is still yet to come
As he will try to eat me alive
Bite by desperate bite
As he goes down hard,
His goal to take us down to the
Bottom with him.

But at least I know what I’ve got
So I can protect what’s left
Of my battered soul, my wrecked life,
My bankrupt heart.

My battle is now clear:
I save my kids and myself
And finally tap into the
Strength I know is inside.
It’s been growing, festering,
Waiting for now and I am ready.

I haven’t seen the worst part
Of the year, just a few weeks
Into it but I do know that
As more days, months,
Hours and precious seconds
Pass, the best is still yet to come.

And I welcome at last being
“Cancer” free.
I can already feel the
Disease leaving the body
It should have never thought
Worthy of sharing.

So many noteworthy poems. Robert, thank you for the opportunity to begin our end-of-year reflections early! Theresa, elegant work. Iain, you are truly growing. And Maria Elena, having lost two babies myself, although they never came to term, my heart is with you.

Finally, Patti, I am a fellow survivor of that particular cancer, that soul-sucking, energy-draining everpresence. Omnipresence. Congrats on making it through.

Still working mostly on music, but glad to sojourn with you this week. Peace to all, Amy

Haiti--images and words are swirling around in my mind after the fund-raising broadcast tonight both in Canada and in the U.S.
The scale of dislocation of lives and communities is enormous so the much-needed aid should go a long way.

I decided to check out PA postings and was glad that I did.

Patti: thanks for sharing such wonderful news! Glad for you too Amy.
Hannah: Thanks.
Iain: Congrats
Walt: Hope all is well for one of our esteemed poets in the new year

Best weekend to all!

Peppermint Patti

Vision on the inside of an eyelid

I drive and cannot blink because
if I close my eyes against the
rain and wind, inside my eyelid
I see the jut of bone white and
jagged as a tooth thrust through dark
skin, lips of flesh pucker and ooze
stained red with blood around bone
and I know that arm will have to go,
if the screaming woman has the
luck to find someone to free her
from the inside-out thing her arm
has become. So instead my eyes
stay open and tearlessly watch
the skidding, the sliding and the
hopeless work of windshield wipers
against rain like slices of shale.
Then I see it : a single crow
Hurling itself from a tree branch,
Neck stretched, rising with each wing stroke
pushed down by the rain, and rising
again. The crow turns into a
black slash against the sheets of grey,
as it goes up and up and up.

- Ina

Love a lot of the poems. Rachel, Robert, Marie Elena, I'm so sorry. RJ, beautiful poem.

INSTRUCTIONS FOR A NEW YEAR


Allow the day to take you where it will.
Wander through it
looking for places to linger a while:
nooks and crannies
in old time's perpetual motion clock
where hours compress--
minutes expand to hold eternity.
Stand and recite
how you "must go down to the sea again"
from memory.
Sort pictures and honor smiling faces
gone forever.
Sit with a child for an endless game of War
to know some peace.
Meander a path you've too long ignored,
now overgrown,
barely discernible in a grass sea.
Doing nothing else,
attend to the music you've always loved,
but forgotten.
Rub the dog's soft ears. Gaze into his eyes
almost reading
the muddied map of mysterious thought.
Practice bird calls.
Watch the new moon tip-toeing between stars.
Sleep surrendered.

ina...impressive, stunning visuals, "The crow turns into a black slash against the sheets of grey, as it goes up and up and up."

Happy weekend to you also Patricia! :)

Amy sorry for your losses that is heartbreaking...I'm happy for you and Patti being in remission though. My grandmother battled lymphoma and has been in remission for almost three years now...I accompanied her to her treatments, very trying times. My heart goes out to you both...

Penny... really in tune with your muse this A.M., especially loving this handful of exceptionally beautiful lines you've created!

"Meander a path you've too long ignored,now overgrown,barely discernible in a grass sea."~~~"Watch the new moon tip-toeing between stars."

BEAUTIFUL!!

THE START OF SOMETHING

The year begins
fresh with the promise
of things to be,

a chance to see
all that we envision,
rife with decision

and trials of character.
All that we dream
is seen through hopeful eyes

and the sighs of a moment
held in your heart
becomes the start

of achieving your desires.
Stoking the fires of a passion
burning brightly, and the nightly

presumption offers a sanctuary,
but the scary part of a fresh new year
is that the uncertainty of the future

stands as an obstacle
to your courage and drive.
But, you remain alive,

and full of the potential
for a torrential downpour
of creativity, with a proclivity

for an extreme body of work.
No knee jerk reactions, but
a faction of fiction untold.

Brave and bold, caution to the wind,
and a chance to begin in this
annual rebirth, a blank page,

accepting your sage words
and situation you've constructed.
January lends itself to life,

and the proof of the life
is in the living, forgiving
each past mistake, and taking

inventory of all you've amassed,
a wealth of knowledge and friends
to the end of the year, where

another year begins
fresh with the promise
of new things to be.

Thank you to all who expressed sympathy for my cousin. Amy, I’m so sorry for your loss as well. A good friend of mine lost twins years ago. I had the privilege of having one named after me. The day she buried those precious girls haunts her to this day.

There are many heartbreaking situations expressed here already for 2010. My heart goes out to all of you. You are all people who have touched my life, and filled my heart. When you grieve, it grieves me. When you rejoice, I rejoice with you. Thank you … all of you … for trusting the rest of us with your words.

“We won't say goodbye, but our eyes will scream it in tears.” Amy, I echo Joseph’s comment: Very moving.

How fun, Janet! Your muse is much like the “spoonful of sugar!” :)

Hi Peppermint Patti! Yes, we will see what life brings, and we will share, because that’s what we do. I checked out January Blue. Good stuff! Wish my hubby had been there with his camera.

De: Good piece today … and good peace to you, my friend. Prayers going your way.

Iain: I read Thus Far to my daughter on the phone … she loved it! Thanks for making her smile. Congrats so you! So deserving!!

Patti: Yes, the best is still yet to come. You exhibit amazing strength … bless you!

Ina: I again echo the statement of another poet. This time, Hannah: impressive, stunning visuals. Excellent, excellent work.

Penny: So appealing! Beautiful, endearing sentiments; beautifully expressed. Thank you for this!

Walt: As usual, your heart is splayed open … your vision and purpose are valid and commendable. You’ll make it. No doubt.

Thanks guys. I will not be around til after Feb 3rd. Don't worry. I'll be having fun.

Great. You'll be back for my birthday! Enjoy, Penny!

The Ashes.

The ashes of 2009,... the ashes of life more like

I am a man I am alive I have loss, yet to see gain
from today's pain and treatment
I live and wait and let the ashes of twenty past years sit with me
and look squarely at mortality with a mix of impending good health and death.

The clinical outcome is my God
your heart and spirit and life, my bringer
of hope
your hope is in my heart
I'm counting on you.

Marie Elena - I am honoured...thank you.

& to others for their kindness & compliments

Great writing here as ever..privelage to be part of it

Cheers all

Iain

The calendar we hung on Sunday holds in a hand of twelves
ecstatic photographs, leaf after leaf of NASA images, all shots
within this solar system, amazements it has taken mankind
all its lives of dumb bemusement looking upward, pacing out
the night’s unfixed progressions, all its constants and changes
to produce for me to hang above the kitchen trash.
Exuberant discoveries in light
in twelvespan of months,
this shred of cellulose will follow last year’s scroll of split bamboo
emblazoned with the menu of a chinese takeout (no dim sum),
into the garbage can,
and on from there to putrify or petrify
in close to geologic time alongside Huggies for the eons
and bread immune to mold.
Until then, I gaze upon the moons of Jupiter
think of distance and the speed of light, its paradox
that what I see beyond the planets comes, not
from this last year’s leaf, but times so far away
that when the wave that tricks my eyes to sight
first left,
there were no men on earth to wonder at it.
no earth at all, to be endangered by its vermin children
we who huddle fearful, fragile as the foam of surf
when the planet shudders
at our ignorant demolitions

Barbara! Good to see you...really enjoyed,"we who huddle fearful, fragile as the foam of surf," powerful image!

Simon...really touching ending,"your hope is in my heart
I'm counting on you."

Penny have some BIG fun...bring a journal for all the inspiration you'll run into!

Walt...B-day huh? which day...the third? I wish I lived nearby to surprise you with a cake...only I just told you soooo...it wouldn't be a surprise! Ummm...Happy Birthday early anyway! Like your extended Christmas'...B-days last atleast a week or more!! Smiles!

New Year Fantasy

My dreams are becoming more vivid.
The faces have names, the names
have faces, the faces have wives,
the wives have faces, and the wives
have names, and I have choices to make.
The safe thing about resolving
against resolutions is evading
the temptation to fulfill them whatever
the cost. The temptation of scented light
bulbs, shopping sprees, blind dates leading
to elicit affairs revealed at casual luncheons
to brothers who care and a man who
charmingly enough will not suspect being decried
over tiramisu and frothing drinks
we take between our lips,pray against consequences.

I'm getting impatient to talk about my blog (plus I posted an exercise this Friday, haha), so if you'd like to check it out it's here: Our Lost Jungle

Back later to read & comment -- I hope. :-)


A tiny island trembles,
fractures, fissures
topples, tumbles,
lives crumble

terror, loss, want, need
outcries amid the rubble

Still, somewhere
strangers become friends
others fall in love
lovers marry
babes are born
life goes on
hope thrives

To Marie Elena

Thank you for such positive and kind comments. I also want to say that sometimes when I read someone's poem, I don't always know if they are writing about an image or something that really happened to them or someone they love. Your poem about what recently happened to your family memeber had to be tragic and so very sad. I can't imagine the depth of courage that kind of situation would take. Thank you for sharing it.

To Hannah

Thank you for your note of positive commentary too. You are always so eloquent with your verbiage.

For Walt

For your upcoming birthday and Hannah's thought to make you a cake . . . I thought you already took it . . . in that your poetry always Takes the Cake!! :)

Penny: Enjoy your time of fun and rest! We’ll look forward to your return to us.

Simon: “…look squarely at mortality with a mix of impending good health and death” is obvious and simple, and yet so profound. Tragedy and faith reveal themselves through your poem. Thank you for sharing it with us.

“…for me to hang above the kitchen trash” “…into the garbage can, and on from there to putrify or petrify in close to geologic time alongside Huggies for the eons and bread immune to mold” “…times so far away that when the wave that tricks my eyes to sight first left, there were no men on earth to wonder at it” “… fragile as the foam of surf when the planet shudders at our ignorant demolitions” BARBARA: How many visually powerful thoughts are you capable of conjuring up for a single, short poem that speaks to the ages? Wow … so impressive.

Khara: Always a force. I visited your blog site, and thoroughly enjoyed This Winter Warm. Delightful!

PSC: LOVE seeing you and your work out at the Micro site. It’s always a pleasure hearing what you have to say.

Janet: Strangely enough, we received word of each event literally within moments of each other. A few hours of January 20 held new life and joy for one cousin, and heart-breaking death and disappointment for another. As always, thank you for your kind and compassionate heart.

Robert - Hope everything goes well with the ex, and her health issues can be resolved quickly & effectively.
Cara Holman, Theresa Cavicchio - Guess we were all on the same page!
Rachel Green - Painful.
Taylor Graham - (Poetry in the Classroom) - Fascinating!

Iseul G. - Beautiful!
Giulietta Spudich - Sad & lovely.
RJ Clarken - (Port Au Prince) - Succinct & well said.
Marie Elena - Such a sad piece. Arms & hearts, empty & full -- well said. And thank you for the kind words! : -)

Bruce Niedt - Lucky you -- attending the writing workshop -- sounds like fun!
Daniel - “Heaven, Haiti and Hell” -- an apt combination!

Walt - NEW YEARS DAY 2010 - well described. (Walt’s Waltz, maybe?) And: THE START OF SOMETHING - Wonderful!

Nancy Posey - “Aging faster than dog years” - I feel like that describes me sometimes!
Hannah - Unseen Tremors - very well depicted.
Janet Rice Carnahan - (The Funk) - I could use some of that! : -)

De Jackson - Two good pieces!
Iain - Congratulations on your happy news!
Penny Henderson - (Instructions for a New Year) - Sweet! (& have a happy time-off!)

Thank you Hannah and Marie Elena :) Iain and Patti, congrats to you both. Khara, thanks for sharing your blog...just went and had a peek :)

Take care, everyone,
ina

Already

Already this year, still in its infancy
The planet’s plates have shifted
In a major way, throwing a tiny island
Nation into tragic circumstances
Leaving women wailing for their
Dead infants and all mourning, all
Lost, confused and hopeless...

Already this year, five Canadians
Returned from Afghanistan, dead,
In flag-draped coffins, from a war
Waged in futility; lives cut short to
A country divided about their mission
Torn apart by their deaths, wondering
At the least, about the senselessness

Already this year, the bloom is off
The rose of a newly minted American
President who, it has been shown,
Cannot, after all, walk on water but,
Is struggling still to bring some order
To the chaos of that country’s woes
Should he be given enough time

Already things are looking down
Instead of up, for many people
But it’s early days if you consider
That now, in the Year of the Ox
It’s only January, the first month
Of the year; there is time to turn
Things around if one is diligent, or
Fate is kind, or luck exists, or not...
Already this year.

Robert - Do you intend to announce winners for the Poem A Day Challenge 2009?

A GOOD DAY...

...carries new discoveries. Such is a day like today.
As a challenge to my micronites over at micro poetry,
I have set a challenge to invent a poetic form.In the
spirit of this epiphany, I submit my form.

It is called: GENESIS - Taking the name of the form from
the musical group, it follows an “ABACAB” rhyme scheme.
Created for micro poetry, it is intended as a ten line poem (ABACABACAB) repeating the sequence. But, it can go as long as you’d like following that repetition. I thought I'd share my example here.

CLARITY

A clearness of mind,
with a sense of objective,
thoughts quite refined,
without trepidation or fear.
Synapses unwind
giving you some perspective.
leaving doubt far behind,
to find your purpose here.
Memories of pasts seem kind,
and your viewpoint is less subjective.

As per the Genesis, there are no metric restrictions. Also, a variation of the rhyme scheme would be in six line stanzas keeping within the "ABACAB" pattern.


Prompt code: QLRJE - Query Leveled by RJ, Excellently! So as it was! Thanks RJ.

One of the bests of 2010 is

Wishing a hearty Happy Robbie Burns Day to all!

Not necessary to be of Scottish origins to love the words and tunes of a great bard.

If anyone wants to check out You Tube, take a listen to some lines from one of the all-time greats. There are some great versions of Auld Lang Syne, A Red Red Rose (my all-time favorite Burns poem), Loch Lomond, and many more.

Walt: Genesis!!!!! Speaking of bards, how do you keep up with these new ideas? What a great concept for a poem!

Peppermint Patti

Hmm - who will it be? What an impossibly tough task...I don't envy you or the other judges one bit Robert but I do thank you for the effort that went into this massive project and the opportunity to post my stuff. As always, it was a rush. S.E.Ingraham (Sharon)

There's thanks from all around Robert. As "D-Day" (Declaration Day) approaches, I'll sit back and celebrate the wonder of the poetry that you inspire here at Poetic Aside. "The Poem's the thing" said as bardlike as possible.

Thanks to Marie Elena, Amy, and Hannah for the mentions - much appreciated.
PSC - I'm happy to be on the same page with you and Cara.
So many worth mentioning this week, but some that touched me deeply:
All (too many to list) that referred to the tragedy in Haiti. Each offered a different perspective, yet I think all were underscored with hope in the end.
Willy and Salvatore - Amen.
Patti and Amy - here's to survivors!
Iain - Congrats
Penny, Giulietta, Iseul, Nancy, RJ - enjoyed all of yours; good work
Sara, Marian, Ina - touching and powerful
Walt and Hannah - as always, great work; your images and creativity amaze

Finally! This is still definitely a draft, though....

Best and Worst

January in Cape May was made for writers,
I tell myself as I pull more tightly into my coat,
winds buffeting me from both sides
here on the absolute southern tip
of the Jersey shore, where angry gray waves
pummel the sand. Back in the hotel,
the conference buzzes with words,
our source of light and heat this weekend.
We scribble and critique, network and recite,
eat and drink, and drink some more,
laugh and dance, and in the end,
we’ll bring home new work, a tote full of books
and names to drop like Doty and Dunn.
This is how I kick off my year, but walking here
on the raw winter beach, I think of a Caribbean quake
that rang in the new year far south of us
with horror and death. They say the same waters
circulate throughout the world, the same cold waves
that trouble the coast before me may have once
caressed, lazily in crystal blue, the warm sands
of Haiti, now as broken and desperate
as we are content and sound.
Somehow, a poem about it is not enough.

2010 (C) Rich Atwater January 7, 2010

It's here, my dear, "the Decade of decades", the beginning of the end,
We shall take no prisoners on to glory, each must qualify, and then-
Be assigned to that which be his (or hers) due, according to the law, divine,
For God is just and we must meet "the day of judgment" in due time.

In centuries past the prophets told of "the Dispensation of the Fullness of Times",
When all things shall be fulfilled for mortal earth to meet Millennial Day, sublime,
As JESUS CHRIST returns as KING to claim His own just due of everything,
And set aside the woes of "wrong", cast out the Devil and his throng, to fling-

Across the universe the evil one, and all his hosts, that PEACE may come to EARTH,
That all good men, and women too, who seek to do His will may justify their mirth,
In mercy, hope, and faitfulness, with compassionate "true love" for fellowmen again,
No malice or deceit to stand, no war, no hatredness defile the land, as such too long has been.

No bigotry, no false end hope, nor prophets of doom to instill fear, mistrust, and depression,
For God is LOVE and seeks to bring "the lion with the lamb" with humble heart's obsession,
To be like a little child, submissive unto God and righteousness in truth, sons and daughters unto HIM,
Oh, come Millennial Day, come "the Prince of Peace", come rescue us from ourselves, our chagrin!

But first must come the prophecies of JESUS told of old, upon the Mount of Olives, in Matthew 24,
Upheavals of the planet earth, as earthquakes, and volcanoes roar, with tsunamis (etc) to justify "the poor",
The opressed shall stand justified in that day whose hearts are truly "just and meek" to inherit the earth again,
So look and watch, and see and know, that the prophecies were true, and now shall begin this year of 2010.

A time of woe, of circumstance, of true "refiner's fire"-- to see whose character will pass "the test of time",
For time will end and be no more, as eternity begins, and God of heaven claims His own, to eliminate the crime,
That leads to Mayan calendar of December 21, 2012--but NOT "the end"; but rather "the beginning of the end",
"The Decade of the Teenies", as in adolescence of youth portends, maturation, upheavals of distress, to bend--

The spirit and the soul unto God, or rend it unto doom, the choice is ours to make from within--"the mind",
And heart, to be, or not to be, what God ordains for all mankind, for happiness, immortality-- the eternal kind,
Of life abundant with true joy that meets the Saviors call: "Come unto me, ye that labor, and I will give you rest",
From woes of life on mortal earth that drag us down to misery from without and within, to save YOUR soul, lest--

The evil one take false glory in the chains that bind YOU unto him, be free--my fellowmen, be free from wickedness,
Be free from sin, be free from "false end hope", and turn to JESUS CHRIST who renders us the hope of righteousness,
"For this is my work, and my glory: to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of righteous men of any clime",
To live on earth's Millennium a thousand years in peace for those who meet the "good and honorable" call sublime.

But now, to "time of earth" we render unto Him our stewardship of what we do to qualify for "Olive Branch of Peace",
To test our metal in the fire, or like "the fuller's soap" refine the dross, and survive the cataclysmic force that's due--
To come upon the planet in this time of woe and circumstance--"The Decade of decades" begins with 2010,
And YOU my friend shall see the prophecies all fulfilled from Book of Daniel, to REVELATION of John about "the end"!

"The seven year countdown", called "the teenies" (2013 to 2019) of "adolescent time" shall lead to much distress within,
Of growing pains, of troubled hearts, of life and massive death upon a scale not known before to purge the earth from sin,
Of Wormwood (poison water), disease of every kind; a comet hits the earth to remove tall masted ships upon the seven seas,
And God in wrath upon His throne shall shoot the lightning bolts towards every man of sin, to bring him down upon his knees.

As the wicked destroy the wicked in cataclysmic war across each land, and kingdoms fall to ashes on the earth, as days of old,
No man shall stand justified without aproval of the Lord of Hosts, who comes in robes of crimson red upon a pure white horse,
In prophecy, as "King of kings" across his thigh to see, that JESUS CHRIST is "God of Earth"--His planet, His creation,
"The end of world" does NOT mean "End of Earth", for wordly things of Satan (prince of "the world") gives way in every nation--

To "Prince of Peace", and God of EARTH, he'll not destroy the planet that He loves, but come to save it from ourselves,
To cut "the time of end" but short, to save from destruction all of flesh, unless He did not come, to place upon the shelves,
The bones of all mankind, across a weary land of desolations call; to bring about "the RESURRECTION" of the good and right,
That they shall stand upon the earth as Prophet Job has told, "in latter-days", approved to serve our God in Millennial might.

Thus, "the Teenies Decade" (2013 to 2019) a day of reckoning it shall be for all of mortal kind, to lead to austere 2020--
Wherein "the hindsight eyes of man" shall focus on the TRUTH, and see more clearly what has been must be for mortal men,
That God shall purge the entire earth, and rule as "King of kings", to usher in "The Millennium" with "2020 eyesight" given,
For 2033 was designated time to close the chapters of this earth, 2,000 years since crucified our Lord in 33 A.D., the Jew:

He comes again to claim His own, to save His ethnic people, that they may see His wounded hands and feet, and KNOW,
They crucified their God, but NOW may humbly seek His help, repentance is "the key"--for all Jerusalem to see and grow,
"The time" cut short by some "few years" for dire need to save all flesh from utter destruction, thus 2033 becomes anew,
Some time for "Second Coming" between 2020 to that fatal day for evil men, but righteousness need not fear the crew--

Or "hosts of angels" who will accompany Him to usher in that "Peace on Earth, good will toward men" that poets sought,
And man proclaimed in writings of his books as "muse" upon Utopia, that no political stance can claim to give, nor bought
By diplomatic persuasion, or any means, but by "the Lord of Hosts" in His own due time to fulfill the words of His prophets,
That "the Kingdom of God on the Earth", shall meet "the Kingdom of God in Heaven" to come, as Zion is ushered in the soffits.

So, 2010, I welcome you with open arms, I seek your just rewards for those who wait upon the Lord in righteousness so true,
This "Decade of decades" I wish to see, and be among the ones who stand on solid soil and ground of Gospel Truth, for you
Have been my hearts desire, "to see the Lord", who comes in glory upon the Earth to claim His own and set at peace, Earth
Some day to be Celestial orb, among the thrones of God in center place of Galaxy among the brightest stars of former birth.

Sharon, you stated the present situation elegantly. I remain hopeful that gridlock will cease and our country will move forward. I admit, I'm a feminist, heart-on-my sleeve liberal, yet I've found that, in recent months, all sorts of wonderful dialogue has been taking place between people of opposite viewpoints on every conceivable front.

Perhaps that's the best part of 2010 - the resurrection of thought without borders, love beyond polarization, and most importantly, free speech without fear. Here's to poets and writers everywhere, that we never take our free press for granted!

Also, Bruce, your piece touched me deeply. Sitting in rural Western New York (but having lived in Puerto Rico), I feel your words. So far away, and finally the world will understand that Haiti was not only devastated by the earthquakes... it was already a nightmare of poverty. At last, they are on the media radar screen.

Richard, I sent you a missive via Facebook, and I hope you consider it with mutual respect and love.

Amy

THE END: THE BIRTH OF BEGINNINGS

One year ends, another begins.
An annual rollover, everyone wins.

January swan song, February in store.
A grand celebration, tack on one more.

The end of an age, an older one arises,
full of balloons, and cake and surprises.

Fifty-three laid to rest, fifty-four in the wings,
blow out the candles, everyone sings,

Happy Birthday to me, happy birthday you,
as we advance we find that it's true,

Every ending begets a restart,
so raise your glasses and join us old farts.

For December will loom quite quickly my friends,
when January waits to repeat this again.

Thoughts along the way,
For some, I don't know what to say,
So I will just try to convey some thoughts
On this snowy and freezing January day--


Bruce: Your last line sums up everything so well.

Richard: May 2010 hope and light be found for all and not despair for some in these peaceful poetic asides

Amy: thanks for "sharing" your thoughts

Walt: Best wishes if today is the day--the 50s are just so fun!!! What a great time to find your voice as a poet, so much more to write and share, don't you just know it? Happy Birthday!!!!

Irony (from the Ancient Greeks meaning hypocrisy, deception, or feigned ignorance)

Best and Worst of 2010
by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

I.
Enemies, there were many
Friends, legions more
but in the end
he could not think
of a nobler death
than being
struck down
in his prime
by the very ring
that swallowed
8 months of his salary,
he hoped
his funeral could
boast as much.

It did not.


II.
Slave to the notion
you reap what you sow,
he couldn’t help
but ponder,
did he truly get
what he richly
deserved?
But he would
have to await
that answer
an additional two years
until the Mayan
calendar could
finally catch up and
reboot.


III.
he suddenly understood
the irony
of a Pope
in the scope
of a rifle,
of an Eagles
reunion tour,
of purchasing a
Sarah Palin book
and getting a
free Mayan calendar
thrown in.


© 2010 by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

Alone on New Year's,
but together for the rest
of the year with you.