Inspiration on Brain-cation

Lost in purchased imagery

of foreign sights and sounds 

     expressing

        voicing 

past thoughts silently suppressed.

A flow of words across the eye

of people, places, and emotions. A

     transformation

        transition

moving picture of the mind.

Hands anchor and trade 

with fingers at the ready to 

     flip

        turn

thumb through to new realities.

Thoughts race at contemplation of motive,

an anticipation of twist

     reveal

        shock

perhaps I knew it all along.

Such daily relaxation forever cheap

a brain-cation

     motivation

    incitation

to pick up my own pen and take a leap.

A Nine-To-Five Hoax

A deep breath in strain. By brick vest contained,

The worn voices weep. An unspoken grief.

Marred yet glowing, beauty is unmaimed.

Vocation revocation. Heartless thief.

Toil and grind too much time, bones bare and aged.

Joints creak as pressure applies. The soul dies.

What else to do when a muse is so caged?

The heart wants what it wants and tells no lies.

The siren’s song is a steady tune. Yet—

What intent belies that smile? Sneaking singe.

Beauty begins in the mind and once set,

A mind wilts without ambition to binge.

Follow a dream, give no excuse to pause.

I fail to contemplate a more just cause.

A Bittersweet Goodbye

It strikes a chord to see you go,

Yet the tune is airy and light

Each note ringing high and free.

This chorus is merely filler.

Your next verse is sure to reverberate,

line by line.

Immersed (in) Recollection

Shadows stirring, reflected through clear tide
Flush of smooth notes sway slowly on air
A soft flowing blanket, graceful 
ripple dancing against cool
porcelain. Droplets scorch
paths down pouting curves.
Burning, haunting
melody.
Flashback.
Tears.

*Nonet form.

Haunted

Deep dark hugging
     blinding
          hiding
fingers caressing
goosebumps rising

Each heart racing
     creeking
           squeaking
noises blaring
wide eyes staring

White shape gliding
     stopping
          fading
heavy breathing
disbelieving.

It's October!

It may sound strange, but this is by far my favorite time of the year.  The days are warm, the nights are cool, and Halloween is in the air! Many people love the upcoming holidays, Thanksgiving and Christmas, but Halloween has always been my favorite. Although it takes a lot to creep me out, the creepy and spooky that comes out this time of year always gets me excited. It's really no surprise-I enjoy horror, supernatural, and bloody things year round. Even though my first homemade doggy costume last year didn't turn out the best...

 
Halloween seems to really spark creativity in many people, from creating costumes to decorating their homes. I may not have much in the way to decorating or make-up skills, but I love to read and write Halloween-themed poems and stories. Here's a haiku to get in the spirit!

Halloween Arrives

Spooks appear these nights,

when crisp leaves crunch under foot

and cool wind drifts by.

Until the end of the month, I'll be sharing some of my own Halloween-themed works and some of my favorites by others. Do you have a favorite story or poem that fits this time of year?

#tbt Throwback Thursday: Drinking Perfection

Drinking Perfection
Ten years ago! 11/1/2003 - Age 16


Footfall could be heart on the cobblestone path
The reflection of the creator could be seen by the birdbath
Swirling lights from the lighthouse nearby
The color iris staining her eye

A wisp of his presence came out of the air
All of a sudden he appeared from nowhere

Satin cloth brushed by her side
Tendrils of hair caressed her forehead
A loving kiss was planted on her cheek
A hint of wine could be sensed on his breath

The wounds from his fatal kiss were far gone
Now the creator stared at his job well done
The beauty of the creature was hard to miss

Skin the feel of steel
Lipstick as that of an evergreen garden
Eyes that absorbed all of the spectrum
Strength that outnumbered the largest of men
Fangs to match the shining white teeth
Yes, she was perfect indeed.

A shiver ran through her body
The metamorphosis claimed her mind
The time had come for the effect to take hold

Her first victim was only seventeen years old.

Line Breaks, Syllables, Organization

Careful use of line breaks can alter a poem's rhythm, tone, and meaning.  The poem below is full of imagery that can be grouped and broken to change the entire feel of the poem.  You might have to pull out the old dictionary to find the meaning of some of the words.  As you read the poem, think about how you would change the line breaks or reorganize the words.  Read the original below and then my "rewrite" is after the jump.

"Silent Poem" by Robert Francis

backroad leafmold stonewall chipmunk
underbrush grapevine woodchuck shadblow

woodsmoke cowbarn honeysuckle woodpile
sawhorse bucksaw outhouse wellsweep

backdoor flagstone bulkhead buttermilk
candlestick ragrug firedog brownbread

hilltop outcrop cowbell buttercup
whetstone thunderstorm pitchfork steeplebush

gristmill millstone cornmeal waterwheel
watercress buckwheat firefly jewelweed

gravestone groundpine windbreak bedrock
weathercock snowfall starlight cockcrow

My Version of "Silent Poem"

Backroad leafmold
    stonewall

chipmunk underbrush
grapevine woodchuck
    shadblow

woodsmoke cowbarn
    honeysuckle

woodpile sawhorse bucksaw
outhouse wellsweep backdoor
flagstone bulkhead
  
buttermilk
   candlestick
      ragrug
         firedog
            brownbread

hilltop outcrop
cowbell
    buttercup

whetstone thunderstorm pitchfork
     steeplebush
gristmill millstone cornmeal waterwheel
    watercress buckwheat

firefly jewelweed
gravestone groundpine
windbreak bedrock

weathercock
    snowfall
        starlight

            cockcrow


In my reinvention, I intentionally looked at the items with a wide lense and then brought in the focus to certain elements by imaging the scene.  For instance, with the lines

buttermilk
   candlestick
      ragrug
         firedog
            brownbread

I imagined someone carrying a pitcher of buttermilk, passing by the candle light to sit on the ragrug in front of the fireplace (firedog: the metal supports for logs in a fireplace) and enjoy a snack of bread and milk.  The original author oriented it differently, painting the picture differently through his line breaks and organization.  At the end of the poem, I specifically utilized white space (the literal white, empty space around the poem), line breaks, and line spacing to reverse my wide to narrow focus and introduce the fading of starlight and dawning of a new day (cockrow: the time when cocks first crow, or early morning).  There are so many ways to "play" with this poem and each of them is unique and interesting.

As evidenced by this exercise, one of the beautiful aspects of poetry is its flexibility.  You can change the entire meaning and tone of a poem through use of line breaks, organization, and white space.  Don't be afraid to experiment.  Poetry gives you the freedom to throw normal sentence conventions out the window and create something all your own.  Take advantage of it!

Fresh Flowers

Pink petals unfold
embracing the rising sun,
cool dew glistening in light.

Beautiful roses
in a garden colored bright,
snipped, gracing a table top.


*Written in sedoka form.