rotten tomatoes
regal cinemas
belcanto audio
bel canto book

Philadelphia news anchor killed in Valley Forge crash

omar benson miller
ballers
beneficial aspects of houseflies
boston fern

meaning of prayer flags
bats in pennsylvania
zillow
book of kells

May your winning streak never end.

keanu reeves
composer sentimental journey
sous le pont mirabeau
contretemps
 
 
Just for fun: a poetic sample of my iPhone Google searches, in order with minimal editing. Sample taken on 7/13/15. Poetry is where you find it, in the eyes of the beholder — or the Googler.

emerald lake, icy brook,
alpine sunflowers
when I wander off the path
a sense of freedom

rain, thunder, lightning, hail
celebrate with nature as
we conquer the wind

shadows at sunrise
surreal, spooky in the mist
I felt like I was
trespassing

Sources: Selected phrases from the Twitter feed #rmnp (Rocky Mountain National Park) form 7/7/15 to 7/17/15.  Personal photo of the park.

Remix to create “tweetable” poems of 140 characters or fewer.

You return with your suitcase,
the backpack left behind
thirty years ago or more.

Head into the forest, far from
the future, back into your past
440 miles from now.

Beyond the cabin,
the small pond beckons and
beyond the ridge, the creek glistens
and whispers, perhaps
remembering your name.
 
 
This poem is written in response to a prompt from Miz Quickly, in which we were to think about a phrase that we could add to an already existing poem from this month’s prompts in order to create something new. Since I had only one poem and a half-begun fragment so far, this poem refers to the prompt on prepositions and adds the phrase, “with your suitcase.”
 
 

For Ping:

In my small pond, I sit
and wait.
I wait for food
body, mind and soul.
I wait for knowledge,
the learning curve steep.
I wait for my voice —
no awkward strangled quack,
no parakeet’s robotic tone,
but a voice newborn

and all my own.

 
Today Miz Quickly challenged us to select six words from three different word lists, one from one list, two from another and three from the third and then create a poem built around the chosen words and referencing a place. My words were: ping, wait, knowledge, steep, parakeet and newborn.

Author: Marjorie Flack

Illustrator: Kurt Wiese

Copyright: 1933

 
 
 

This found poem is in response to a prompt at the Found Poetry Review asking us to take words and phrases from propaganda posters and craft them into a poem that does not reflect the source material.

“Good work, sister.
We could do with thousands
more like you.”

[Wake up. Make him pay!]

Keep your eyes open!
Look who’s listening.
A careless word before
it’s too late.

Apparition:

in dreamland, a mundane
memory survives but

takes on sub-
conscious symbolism

fascinating possibilities —
strange, surreal purpose.

“the appearance of something
remarkable or unexpected”

 
 
Source text: Popova, Maria. “The Science of Dreams and Why We Have Nightmares.” brainpickings.org. Web. 16 October, 2013.

This poem was written for Margo Roby’s prompt asking us to write about “dreams” based on the etymology of the word. In Old Norse, the word “dream” is derived from a root meaning “ghost” or “apparition.” All words in the poem are sourced from the article cited above, except for the dictionary definition of “apparition” at the end.

Henri Rousseau.  The Sleeping Gypsy.

sunny afternoons
iced tea, ideas, sweet dreams
brewed on the back porch
 
 
This poem was written in response to a prompt from Heeding Haiku with HA in which we were to think about a special friendship. I’ve just learned that a friend that I’ve known for well over thirty years will be moving, so I thought back to the good old days in writing this haiku.

solemn silver birch
sentinel by the fence line
guardian of dreams
worshipped once as a goddess
shelter my spirit anew

This tanka was written in response to a prompt from Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie in which we were to create a poem based on Marc Chagall’s painting, The Poet Reclining. I was fascinated by the single birch tree in the painting, knowing that birch trees are considered a cultural symbol in Russia where this image was painted.

This poem was inspired by a detail in James Proudfoot’s painting, Sun on a House, Dieppe. Margo Roby’s Tuesday prompt asked us to focus on a single detail and create a poem around it.

Tryst

Meet me behind the old stucco house,
glowing gold in the late morning sun.
Run quickly through the patches of sun
between houses. Let’s linger a while
in the shadows, tasting the air
as we move toward our release,
hurry when we get to the crest of the
hill and rush down to the sand, the
tiny cerulean waves lapping the shore

sweetest freedom