Jasmine's Attempts to Coax Poetry Back to Her

34 posts1, 2, 3
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Poem Twenty -Seven

I enjoy novels.
There is always an ending.
Poetry's open.
"Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise."
-Maya Angelou




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Poem Twenty- Eight

Easter

Easter light taunts me now,
forcing itself into my cobwebbed sleep,
forcing me to get up and meet
those I have left on another plain -
one of organ song and white roses,
morning - coffee - minus- one,
and use of the team line, team face, embrace.
I don't even have to look
at my dad anymore.

But then.

On the table, the biggest
Easter eggs I've ever seen.
In the kitchen
lamb cooking, wafting
up the stairs.
He spends hours burrowed
up in there, laying the table
out with care, providing
distractions only taste-buds can.

And up he gets.
Meticulous care
to rise again,
to
butterfly-net our light,

and I can keep Spring's Easter

until night.
"Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise."
-Maya Angelou




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Gender Female
Points 15961
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Poem Twenty - Nine

All of the fanfare
which I cannot touch or
even imagine in any
tangible context at all,
a tummy full of pancakes and
my hair still unbrushed,
half a mind on all
the notes I have to learn
and this restless waiting
this endless gearing
up for something
which I cannot
even articulate,
much less be -

my day
in each single spider string
defying the cobweb,
Last edited by Jasmine Hart on Fri Apr 29, 2011 8:02 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise."
-Maya Angelou




User avatar
Gender Female
Points 15961
Reviews 661
Last one!

Poem Thirty

Every Season

*submitting*
"Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise."
-Maya Angelou



"The trouble with Borrowing another mind was, you always felt out of place when you got back to your own body, and Granny was the first person ever to read the mind of a building. Now she was feeling big and gritty and full of passages. 'Are you all right?' Granny nodded, and opened her windows. She extended her east and west wings and tried to concentrate on the tiny cup held in her pillars."
— Terry Pratchett, Discworld: Equal Rites