When blue meets black,
sadness meets anger, anger meted out
in bruising blows to tender skin.

When blue meets black,
tranquility meets mystery, memories
of an amnesiac, mourning what's lost.

When blue meets black,
inspiration meets energy, an eruption
of unanticipated power, the opening
of a tightly closed fist.

This draft poem for April 8 was inspired mainly by the prompt at NaPoWriMo about unlikely meetings and the invitation to play with sounds at Miz Quickly. If you Google the “meaning” of various colors, you will see that I have chosen labels to symbolize both blue and black from the lists found on various sites.

The path up and down is one and the same. – Heraclitus

My mind told me that the climb to the mountaintop would be hard.
Now my knees tell me that the journey back is the true challenge.

Wish you were here to share it with me.

This bit of lazy Sunday poetic fun was inspired by an epigraph challenge from Miz Quickly and a postcard prompt from NaPoWriMo.

I try to remember when I first heard it said, “Never turn your back on the sea.” I had never seen the sea before adulthood and even then the source of awe was not the sea itself, but the fact that it looked exactly as I imagined it. How do you come back home to a place you have never been? Each wave, never the same as the one before. Each drop of water new to the shore it caresses. I stand on wet sand, awaiting the surge, then the sudden collapse under my toes as the water rushes back to its source. I know that it is my source too, these predictable tides with unpredictable waves. I watch the children closely as they dig on the shoreline for treasures: a shiny shell, seaglass, a single gull feather. “Pay attention,” I yell into the wind, and know that I am speaking to myself as much as I am to them.

searching for treasure
discarded shells, gray feather
seaside currency


This draft poem was written on April 6, 2024 in response to the  Miz Quickly prompt about buying and selling, as well as the NaPoWriMo prompt, with which I took a few liberties today.

To be blessed
said the onion
is to survive the cut
and reward the tears
with savory morsels
in the finished dish.

To be blessed
said the ocean
is to learn to kiss
the sands of the shore
without holding on
to the rocks below.

To be blessed
said death
is to find the open door
the welcoming smile
never too early
never too late.

This draft poem is based on the NaPoWriMo prompt to write a poem inspired by Alicia Ostriker’s The Blessing of the Old Woman, the Tulip and the Dog. Further inspiration came from a line provided by Miz Quickly (“The onion, now that’s something else.”)

Scientists discovered it, described it 
with their fancy labels:
Wave lengths, Chloroplasts,
Chemical Bonds, Photosynthesis,
BIOLUMINESCENCE!

But -- does it take a scientist to
walk under the starry night sky as 
the presence of a garden path lights
up our very souls? All is illuminated
in the wisdom of the leaves. 

My two prompt sites converged today, asking me to search for a title that spoke to me and then to write a poem to match that title. This title is from The Strangest Things in the World: A Book About Extraordinary Manifestations of Nature.

In the darkness, sudden illumination, the wavering beam leads me to a door. A door with no window, a door with no knob, a door with no wall to hold it fast. I am compelled to reach toward it and it opens at the vibrations from my impending touch, the faint heat of my always-chilled fingertips. The darkness now pierced by the light from within, prismatic light of many colors, beyond my ability to name them all, my six-color wheel inadequate to the task. Color beyond color, shade beyond shade, blasting the folds of my black-and-white brain, opening unknown pathways deep within. A world of cerulean, fuchsia, verdigris and cinnabar, name upon name upon name, all finally seen and known.

This poem was written in response to April 3 prompts from Miz Quickly and NaPoWriMo, in which I attempted to incorporate a door into a surreal prose poem.

Forgive me all the years
I told myself lies, dismissing
the beauty of your duality,
your asymmetrical symmetry.

Two eyes, seeing depth and wonder.
Two ears, to locate myself in space.
Two arms, for holding close.
Two feet, for balance in a shifting world.
Two lungs, breathe in, breathe out.
Two hands, one to hold the pen, one
to hold the paper steady.

Yet only one heart and one mouth, 
that never remember to say,
"I love you."

This draft poem was written in response to April 2 prompts from Miz Quickly and NaPoWriMo.

This was written in response to today's prompts from Miz Quickly https://imprompt.wordpress.com and NaPoWriMo https://www.napowrimo.net

Everything I know about mothering, I learned

From Make Way for Ducklings.

Practice patience.

Teach by example.

Expect to multitask.

Pay attention to the little things.

Stand up for your family.

 Don’t be afraid to accept help.


And  always remember:
make it look easy but
paddle like crazy.

 

This draft poem was written in response to the NaPoWriMo early bird prompt https://www.napowrimo.net/almost-there-and-an-early-bird-prompt-2/ for 3/31/24.

The regularity of surf, the prediction of tides.
We try to measure the unfathomable, as if
to exert control over depths we cannot plumb.

Look as the moon rises, dusting the waters 
with diamonds. She rises to dance with the ocean,
a lover, or perhaps a friend with synchronized
cycles, moving in and out together, 

an intimacy beyond human ken. There’s the push and 
pull of remembrance, so long ago, when the earth was
young and the moon escaped its embrace. Separate/
together —a rhythm of immeasurable grace. No
Attempt to control, only to mirror and love.

Barbara Crary 3/31/24

Hello, friends. April is National Poetry Month and I’ve revived this site and sent out a few test posts to prepare for the “onslaught” of poems I intend to write this month. I’ll be looking at a variety of prompts, but will be concentrating on those at NaPoWriMo and Miz Quickly (links to be provided when I write.) I hope to see some old friends here, and maybe some new ones too.

Onward!