she’s crownedxxxxxxxxxresplendent
in golden light, xxxxxxxxthe sun is gowned,
halo-headed xxxxxxxxxxand the warmth of her smile
shimmering, xxxxxxxxxxthaws heart-frost–and ground,
she is the bright future xwhere a seed planted now sprouts–
and there is hopexxxxxx knowledge will grow, star-dusted
again xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxand glowing
A cleave quadrille for dVerse. De has asked us to use the word crown. A quadrille is a dVerse poetry form. It’s a poem of 44 words.
She stands at the precipice ++++++++ wondering
where time and space meet ++++++++ where and why he’ll appear
at that moment, and ++++++++++++++ again–
it seems less a question of physics– ++his blurred shape–
than an opportunity ++++++++++++++ gathering strength
in the vast eternal void +++++++++++ from unbidden hope
to find a crack, a sliver of light +++++ shining in incandescent splendor
Jane Dougherty and David (ben Alexander) got me thinking about writing a cleave poem again. I haven’t written one in a while, and WP certainly does not make them easy to format. We’re getting ready for houseguests and Thanksgiving–something we haven’t done since the pandemic began–so I may not be around too much in the next week.
Three distinct rings– love, hope, faith
we watch, suspend our fears in the future
as clowns cavort and lions roar. will it be enough
Some walk a tightrope as the world tilts and whirls
waiting for applause, we want joy and laughter
but some hang in mid-air hoping there’s a safety net
still waiting to be caught knowing we may plummet
Edgar Degas, “Miss La La at the Cirque Fernando,” [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
Sarah is hosting dVerse tonight, and she has asked us to write a poem about the circus. I am not really a circus fan, but to make up for that, I wrote this cleave poem, which is three poems in one. And then I found this Degas painting.
“His mind’s all black thickets and blood” from Songs of Unreason
The oak was ancient And he stood there nearby, his mind
once sturdy, but now all black thickets and blood
sapped of strength clogged
bent by the elements frail
but still remembering spring he smiled for what once was
This is a cleave poem for Day 23 of Jilly’s 28 Days of Unreason, inspired by the work of Jim Harrison.
“The mountains are so dominant
that some days the people refuse
to look at them as children
turn away from the fathers who beat them”~ Jim Harrison from Songs of Unreason
Ancient mountains within a blink
stare granite-faced when disaster looms (unseen)
rising through tenebrous skies before the before
in stillness stand when time slows and stops
until the rumbling rocks fall, and then, you move to avoid the sudden slap
a tumbling torrent, of striking blows–too late to turn away–
forever changing what was you’re buried in the detritus of dreams
For Jilly’s Day 12 of 28 Days of Unreason, poetry inspired by the poetry of Jim Harrison. This is another cleave/contrapuntal poem or cleaveapuntal or contracleave. . .
Whatever—it’s a bargain, three poems in one. 😉
He never saw her / A hidden figure
though there she was / in plain sight
his property, to do his bidding / a body, with a brain though
she smiled meekly, got his coffee before he asked / she could outthink him any day
he glared when she dared to speak or dream / she wanted to learn all she could
he told her to sit down and be quiet / so she persisted
he put his hands up her skirt and laughed / and she tried to resist
he beat her / she fought back when she could
he told her he was in charge / she tried to change the system
men were always at the top / she educated her daughters and her sons
the world depended on it / they had to be bold for change
A cleave poem for International Women’s Day 2017. The theme for 2017 is “be bold for change.” A cleave poem is three poems in one–left side, right side, and the full lines.
Today’s Google Doodle was a slide show featuring women of diverse backgrounds.
Viktar Smataŭ , “Farewell,” [GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html) or CC BY-SA 4.0-3.0-2.5-2.0-1.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0-3.0-2.5-2.0-1.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons
He was gone / She watched his ship vanish, incandescent
No trace left/ gone, an unmarked path to undiscovered territory
A journey of miles / a journey of years
Across indigo seas, uncharted / amidst radiant spheres, unknown
Would she ever see his smile? / would she hear his voice again?
She felt no sense of wonder for his voyage/ she felt only fear and regret
As she bid him farewell / as she watched the trail of light in the sky disappear
This is a cleave poem (the left side is one poem, the right side is another, and both parts form a third poem. This is for Secret Keeper’s Weekly Writing Challenge. The prompt words were:
Gone/Sense/Trace/Voice/Path
By NASA, Space Shuttle Atlantis [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
The soothsayer paused, not wanting to say / I was a princess,
watching, and on edge because / once upon a time
people demanded proof / there was magic
no more razzle dazzle now / now I live
like Sleeping Beauty / on the streets
awakened with a kiss / and hoping to score
a bit of bliss, if not happily ever after / just one good dream, till tomorrow
This poem is in response to Secret Keeper’s Writing Challenge. The prompt words were
Watch/Edge/Proof/Pause/Sooth
I wrote a cleave poem. The left side is one poem, the right side is another poem, and both sides read together form a third poem.
Treasures locked away/ the vastness of space
deep inside her brain/ is a tempting mystery
little understood/ how to solve the puzzles
past, present, and future mingle/ and how do we know what tense to use
as the bright star flickers and becomes a black hole / we see the light only after it’s gone
This is a cleave poem in response to Secret Keeper’s Weekly Writing Prompt.
This week’s words are: Tempt/Treasure/Tense/Vast/ Lock
A cleave poem is three poems. Each side is a separate poem, but together they form another poem. I can’t seem to format this correctly, so the last two lines on the right carry over to the next line.
Phobos passing in front of Deimos, By NASA/JPL-Caltech/Malin Space Science Systems/Texas A&M Univ. [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
Universal truths in space, / on earth
matter collides/ fear and terror
create new worlds/ bodies lost, crashing
of giant rocks/ bombed to submission
slowly falling/ shattered bones
hit the ground/ held there for a moment
drift, buried/ look, see this, a testament
absorbed/ blink and they are gone forever
When I was listening to the radio this morning I heard about the horrible car bombing in Baghdad and also a story about the two moons of Mars. It struck me how violent the universe is, and we humans make it worse.
The two moons of Mars are Phobos (panic/fear) and Deimos (terror/dread). They were named after the sons of Ares, Greek god of war. His Roman name was Mars.
You can read about the moons of Mars here.
Yesterday and today: Merril's historical musings 