Heart
If one has it, they
Heed
Everyone’s
Attempt at
Restoring
Themselves
and lend a helping hand
Marcia McLees Bogaert
04/30/09
30 of 30, April 2009
Prompt: Michelle at Poefusion reminded that Poetry.org suggested we carry a favorite poem with us and share. Since I had not yet written a poem for this blog today, I set out to write something extremely short that would mean something to me today, rather than just search through so many favored poems. The word “Heart” sprung to my head. I will share it with someone around me today, I’m sure.
Thank you, Michelle, for so many great prompts this month (and always).
Montana
Montana is my unknown
a deserted sea of hidden surprise
peppered by sporadic traffic,
sonar booms caused by kayakers
paddling to best angry rapids
(do they have rock filled rivers there?)
nights filled by golden moons affiliated
with grandiose dreams of everyday poets
(we do dream don’t we?)
lined with mountains as prevalent
as medians dividing endless interstates,
Montana is my unknown.
MeeAugraphie
04/29/09
29 of 30, April 2009
Prompt: Poefusion, pick 6 words (or phrases from newspaper)… I picked from an online TV news site… hard to find words that weren’t totally depressing today…. I chose: boom traffic Montana affiliated kayakers median.
Endless Rain and Paperclips
Please,
Arctic
Cold,
Infiltrate
Frontier,
Increase
Clouds
Not
Occlusion.
Restore
This
Human’s
Writing
Escape
Sanity’s
Thunder
MeeAugraphie
04/28/09
28 of 30, April 2009
Prompt: Poefusion, to write using title above.
Ladder to Success
He climbed the well trod
ladder to success
to find
only dank air
and putrid sky
In disbelief,
he looked below
to see
scattered remains
of broken lives
mixed they were with
pleasures missed
relationships crushed
a route to heart
not taken
his mind,
always quick
(in certain matters, only, it appears)
registered three choices
leap as if a lover’s mountain,
end it all right there
wrap himself in fancy toys,
search for the next flight up
descend the ladder,
start again with goals of heart instead
one was not an option
two pulled at what he knew
three seemed nigh impossible
so he held his head within his hands
and waited for the dawn.
MeeAugraphie
04/27/09
27 of 30, April 2009
Prompt: Poefusion’s Monday Mural
Click the link above to view the painting! Join in?
A Poem
A poem, I might suggest,
is meant to be written
in the manner
a writer desires,
is meant to be interpreted
at its reader’s sole
discretion
And whether, by chance,
writer and reader are
one and the same – or two
or whether, one finds,
their views marry
or declare incompatibility
each poem offers possibilities
found only through
an exchange of thought…
be it between self or two.
MeeAugraphie
04/26/09
26 of 30, April 2009
Prompt: Poefusion, write about what a poem should be.
