snakypoet: (with Chamuel)
Every year I participate in the Poem A Day Challenge at Poetic Asides, a section of Writer's Digest. (Some aspects of National Poetry Month in the USA spread to other countries.) It involves me in lots of late nights and first drafts, and every year I think I'd be insane to take it on, but every year (so far) I do.

So that's why I have been pretty much absent from here. All the writing energy has gone there. If you're on facebook you probably know that, as I've posted links to the poems from time to time. Otherwise, here is a link which gives you all 30. (No, you don't have to read them all at once! Or even at all ... though of course I'd like it if you did.)
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Fiona Robyn thinks we need to revive the word croodle and
invites people to use it in a sentence.  I agree, and here's my go:

On days of cold and rain
sometimes we stay in bed
and the cats come too,
croodling close. We all purr.
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At a recent session with PsychLady I spoke of my passionate love of beauty, all kinds of beauty, and my sorrow at not being beautiful myself. I explained that this is why I began writing poetry when I was very young – I wanted to add to the beauty of the world, and for me poetry was the most beautiful thing a human could create.

Read more... )
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My (poet's) version of NaNoWriMo.

Robert Lee Brewer of Poetic Asides has  hosted one such marathon, the April Poem-A-Day Challenge, the last two years, which is very popular and which I have done each time.

But it all began for me at PoeWar (Writer's Resource Center) in September 2007, the initiative of John Hewitt (whom some of us, that first year, dubbed Maestro). It was a wonderful month; we had such fun! It has been repeated each year since. I started it again last year but circumstances got in the way and I didn't sustain the effort. This year, though, I came back and completed the month, even wrote two some days.

Of course, having done all that, I would now like readers!

My first drafts of this year's efforts are at the PoeWar site along with other participants', and the somewhat tweaked versions - some good, some funny, some still so bad that you can feel smugly superior - are here, at my Passionate Crone poetry blog.

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The day before yesterday, driving back to the coast from the nearest town, I did my usual thing of gazing at a panorama of ocean a moment at the crest of one hill before dipping down into our village. This time, it was disappointing: the water dull, and a strange haze in the air.

Next day (Wednesday 23rd) I went to my Tai Chi class at 9am. Nothing much to notice then. I had my chiropractic appointment at 11.15, and as I walked there I noticed that the fine day seemed to be getting overcast. When I left, the chiropractor and his receptionist both came to the door and looked out at the thick yellowish haze now coming over the hills. Read more... )
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Halfway through the month already!

We've been sick, as I have mentioned elsewhere. WriterHubby has had a bad back, and is recovering with the help of chiropractic and other healing. I have one of those fullblown head colds that isn't serious but feels rotten.

Nevertheless I have managed to do the latest "30 Poems in 30 Days".

If you would like to see them, they are at Poewar (Writer's Resource Center) and at my "Passionate Crone" blog, and will continue until there are 30.

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By Thom Moon 10
(posted with permission)

i cannot see my hand in front of me
the bush outside my borrowed window is black and deep and dark
absolutely no perspective is gained around me
unless and until i look-UP!
fierce stars and planets in  a foreign constellation
beam brightness and illumination
as it is by night-so too by day
your candescence shows me the way
among the rising,falling,spinning frozen stars
to navigate a pathway by the ways of Light
it is a long road to morning
the darkest hour is not before the dawning
it is now,when things seem blackest
we go within -or choose to look without
hope of consolation or maps
There will always be Light above us
and light within-even if obscured
by a context of darkness
Light and change are assured..

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By Thom Moon 10
(Posted with permission ... just because I like it.)

She had put the crab pots out and invoked turtle wisdom
(slow,deep,sustaining-with our whole world upon its shell)
Went out to pick up the crab pots
First one empty-second one full of crabs
Third one -something stuck inside
Now the water was clear so she could see down
at a turtle stuck for the past 12 hours
She had to cut him out-he was dead to our world
But she began massaging him ,flipper by flipper
until involuntary movements of his beaked head
assured her that some life was evident
She had done this for hours-praying,meditating,chanting
soothing and caressing until she was able to slip that turtle
back in to the waters(asking a surfboard rider to care for him
As soon as the board rider came close-turtle dived deep and was gone
leaving only this slip of a flipper of a story to share
as evidence that all magick is reversible
What you love is salvageable/beliefs make results real
and we still have a lot to learn from turtles
Like-how did such a huge creation
fit within the tiny entrance to a crab pot trap?
(and how will we ever get out again?

Photo © Patricia Geyer 2009

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Our garden that you co-created-well
i ate the first green beans this morning
and those snap peas are snacks-
tomatoes threaten multitudes once sun encourages
and green spring is stirring up the onions and our carrots
A woman with no food was given gardens from ours-
the more abundance this only earth provides
sustenance and continuance from the earth of all of us
individual as our gardening desires
We import dirt when ours is rock
We pot and plant new seeds
Everything begins in our Garden of Eve
Knowledge we crave like birds butterflies bees
We are on the lips of receiving uprising beets
and when the rain returns all green will rise  again
to make what you birthed an earthy earthly garden
Simple as the need and this desire
to live with earth on her own terms
and never need to buy what one can make
in co-operation with our green and golden planet

(Posted with permission)

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My current default pic is attracting so many compliments, I decided to revisit a poem I wrote about this dress on 20th September 2007. (On that occasion I was wearing it without the matching trousers.)

Summer dress

My cherry-red drapes me loosely,
floats when I move, dances with me.
Deep armholes show flashes of skin,
my underwear is "nude".

The slit front and scalloped sides
free my winter-white legs.
They stick right out in the sun,
they jig and twist and stride.

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I am ____
I wonder____
I hear____
I see _____
I want ____
I am (same as first line)
I pretend ____
I feel ____
I touch ____
I worry ____
I cry ___-
I am (same as first line)
I understand ___-
I say ____
I dream ____
I try ____
I hope ____
I am (same as first line)


I am alive in the world.
I wonder at this great blessing.
I hear many complain,
I see there is hardship and suffering, and
I want to help relieve that; but I am thrilled by life.

I am alive in the world.
I pretend to be just like everyone else.
I feel, though, exhilarated merely to exist.
I touch trees, flowers, stones, flowing water.
I worry about the survival of this beautiful planet.
I cry if a tree or animal dies – yet I kill some insects.

I am alive in the world.
I understand only that life is a miracle.
I say this out loud very seldom, as few can hear.
I dream of a time when we’re all rejoicing;
I try to lift the spirits of those I touch.
I hope for a time to come when all proclaim with joy:
‘I am alive in the world!’
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Autobiographical Poem Format #1:

Line 1: First name only (screen names are fine)
Line 2: Four adjectives that describe you
Line 3: Son/daughter of __
Line 4: Lover of __ (name three things - phrases work best)
Line 5: Who feels __ (name three - phrases work best)

In the following sections, the writer may name as many as they like.
Line 6: Who finds happiness in __
Line 7: Who needs __
Line 8: Who gives __
Line 9: Who fears __
Line 10: Who believes __
Line 11: Who would like to see __
Line 12:Who enjoys __
Line 13: Who likes to wear __
Line 14: Resident of __

Line 15: Last name only (screen names are fine)



didactic, wise, magickal, ripe
daughter of Oswald and Helen,
lover of bitter dark chocolate,
the blues and the poetry of Yeats,
who feels irritated by too much conversation,
thrilled when contemplating the ocean,
and delighted by really good haiku,

who finds happiness in the love of like minds,
who needs great gobs of solitude every day,
who gives psychic readings that are locally famous,
who fears appearing ridiculous but risks it anyway,
who believes in the power of the human mind,
who would like to see the Andes again, up close,
who enjoys fantasy in print or on screen,
who likes to wear black and purple,
resident of the Mt Warning Caldera
in far northern New South Wales, Australia ...

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(Last Wednesday's prompt from Poetic Asides)

Young and poor, I found

an orange in the gutter
shining like the sun.
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(Posted in other places too, but it about sums up where I'm at, and seems to fit this journal as well.)


I could use one.
The Universe has given me
one broken toe,
a big black splinter
in the same foot
which bled when I pulled it out
(the foot not the splinter)
and now I have to walk on
the sore spot – right on the ball!
(I don’t think so, ha ha,
not if you mean me).
I keep bumping
the toe that I broke.


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September 2017

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