The earth murmurs ancient heart-songs. Hear them in root-rush and rock-rhythms tapped by sea-spray rainbows. The eagle’s whistle slices the peached-tipped clouds– life and death balanced. Hand-in-hand, we watch the light glide through love-grief fault lines, as the ghosts dance at the river’s edge.
A quadrille (a poem of exactly 44 words) for dVerse where De asks us to use the word heart. I could have gone in so many directions!
Juke-joint jive— blues rite in purpled night as bodies sway, in freedom from the toil of day—
listen to the guitar play the riff, a midnight train’s goodbye sigh away the years of strife– hard-fought life, forgotten
as moon shines from a mason jar.
We are celebrating dVerse’s Tenth Anniversary. Our special guest host, Brian Miller, has asked us to write a quadrille using the word juke, a word I’m sure I’ve never used in a poem before. I found this mural on Wikimedia Commons. You’re welcome, Resa. 😏
Smudge the lines, then leave no trace of words–erase the page,
till only thoughts remain etched within the heart and mind
the rusted memories of long-ago places, long-ago times–
you travel toward them, dreaming of endless roads
of what might have been—
I apologize for being so behind on reading and commenting. I wasn’t going to participate at all this week because I have an academic history book chapter due, as well as other projects– but the poetry muse kept whispering. . . so, this is for two dVerse prompts. It’s a quadrille for Mish’s prompt using the word “smudge,” and it’s influenced by the photo above from Glenn A. Buttkus’s site “South Sound Minimalist Photos,” for Sanaa’s poetics prompt.
With stories, we entertain, ascertain, explain the past, another glass of wine drained, slow or fast–
is it enough? We remember to forget
how seasons turn, grey to green, but loved ones gone, remain unseen
like ghosts white blossoms drift leaving trails . . .we follow.
It’s poetry month, and I’m having a hard time getting anything else done between all the poetry writing and reading. So, I’m making my usual Monday Morning Musings very short and combining it with the dVerse quadrille prompt, where Linda asks us to write about wine.
Passover ended yesterday. I celebrated with pasta, garlic bread, and wine. During a traditional Passover Seder (Seder means order), we tell the story of the Exodus and during the course of the night drink four glasses of wine. My family, when we’re together, does a very untraditional Seder, and we drink maybe one, two. . . maybe more. I’m looking forward to seeing them someday soon.
Merril’s Movie Club: We watched Quo Vadis, Aida? It’s Bosnia and Herzegovina’s Oscar entry, and it’s a harrowing and heartbreaking, but also an excellent and nuanced movie. It chronicles the failure of the UN peacekeeping forces and the mass genocide by Serbian army in Srebrenica, as seen through the eyes of UN interpreter. The director said she had been waiting for someone to tell this difficult story, but she finally did so herself, and she does so without relying on showing tons of blood and gore. It’s available to rent on Amazon. We also watched Mank(Netflix). We both enjoyed it. It tells a fictional story of 1930s-1940s Hollywood, and the making of Citizen Kane, centered on Herman J. Mankiewicz, the writer, played by Gary Oldman. I thought Amanda Seyfried as Marion Davies was particularly good.
“For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.” –Vincent van Gogh to his brother Theo, 1888
In wavy lines and shimmering spots, his knotted thoughts, unspooled
the counted crows, a postman, impasto flowers’ golden glow–
but most of all the stars, not stilled, the night a colored motion sea–
ripples of what he saw–and dreams of what might be
A quadrille for dVerse, where Mish asked us to use the word “knot.” I read this article today about how after van Gogh’s death, the sale of his paintings—then valuable—paid for his sister Willemien’s care in a mental asylum. I suppose it helped her, but I also felt it was so tragic that she spent decades—almost forty years–there.