Poetry Tumble

Before you read: All words and images on this page (and this blog) are protected by owner copyrights, if other than mine, I have obtained permission and given credit to the author.

This is the movement of thought along a path of poems. It started with my excitement at finding the “perfect” line in the midst of a poem, Pillows, written by Chris Sapp on his 2007 blog, Tears Shed on Paper, ClockworkChris Returns.

With his permission, I used his mesmerizing line as the first line of my poem, Prayers Unheard?, and when Poetry Thursday prompted us to use the last line from a poem previously written as the first line of a new poem, I chose immediately the last line of the latter, to continue the thread.
I am going to continue the process, and continue that thread of letting one line tumble from one poem to another; the last line of the second poem into the first of the third and so on, until I bore of it, which may be never….

They will be posted as regular entries on my blog, but will also be listed in chronological order here. Check back often to see where I have taken that initial line.

I begin this journey by including (with permission, of course) Chris Sapp’s poem, originally posted on his blog on June 19, 2007, but remember, our words are copyrighted, thank you:

Pillows

Sick of the blue skies
And blankets of darkness
No pinholes in the night
And the lack
Of fluffy pillows in the day
Every moment
Filled as if it may pour down
An angels suffocating tear
Whispering grand wind currents
Hail, ice, rain
In every direction
More invisible moons
With clear beaming suns
Cherubs long for sleep
In full clouds

Please, do not copy his words, they are his words to share, not mine. Thank you. But isn’t it an awesome poem!

This is where his line took me….

1. Prayers Unheard?

An angel’s suffocating tear
shed because you did not hear
the words whispered in the breeze
as you got up from bended knees:

Who will brush back your hair
or absorb the quiet words you bare
when you helmet one and choke the other
to turn your back to yet another?

An angel’s suffocating tear
shed because you did not hear
the words whispered in the breeze
as you got up from bended knees

MeeAugraphie
06/20/07

2. A Dad’s Memory

As you got up from bended knees
white clover in your hair,
we tightly grasped his tiny hands
counted up to three
then swung him up to meet the sky,
and squealed with him in glee…
it was there we celebrated
one and one is three.

MeeAugraphie
08/21/07

3. The Offspring

one and one are three
when one and one become one
and bring into the world another

one, and so,

three become one

family

will they blossom into more
than the sum of their total,
whether looked upon as one
or three?

or become weighed down
by inner thoughts,
by words spouted

that become
weeds sprouted

that become
entangled to choke
the upward growth

and pull the weakened branches
down, until they

split?

And are further seeds sown
close to home,
close to their roots

or

scattered
across barren lands?

And, if the latter,
will those seeds become the strong
that only survive?

Or the weak that flounder and
wilt in the face of its environment?

MeeAugraphie
08/27/07

4. Not me!

Wilt in the face of its environment?
Not that mighty tree!
Not a human like me!

Shrivel in the face of heated words?
Not that mighty man!
Not little old me!

Cower behind locked doors?
Not cowboys or Indians!
Not the fighter I could be!

Hide behind a mommy’s skirt?
Not that blossoming young girl!
Not the me I have become!

Step beneath a father’s shadow?
Not that brave young boy!
Not the fighter inside me!

Lie behind a token smile?
Not the man who always frowns!
Not the me who’s caught off guard!

Shake in my boots as dawn approaches?
Not the sun who rises to light our day!
Not the me who embraces the day!

MeeAugraphie
08/29/07

5. Happiness is mine

Not the me who embraces the day!
Surely you don’t expect moroseness
or a determined refusal to play –

’cause if you do, you would be wrong
and lose the bet and all your money –
my heart would refuse to play along

it knows happiness to be self-made –
not given by others just on a whim
but created by mind’s intentions laid.

MeeAugraphie
09/05/07

6. Intent merged

but created by mind’s intentions laid,
intent merged with dream
to become reality
of not one, but two

hesitant steps bowed
as they moved to the sidelines
to protect the two from the spite
of jealous eyes

true friends wore brilliant smiles
to light their chosen path
should thunder herald dark clouds
to hide their goal in darkness

but created by mind’s intentions laid,
intent merged with dream
to become reality
of not one, but two.

MeeAugraphie
09/10/07

7. Of Not One

of not one, but two
parents he came

of not two, but many
gene pools he came

of not one, but many
activities he was molded

of not one, but many
ideas he was exposed

of not one, but one
who knows his mind.

MeeAugraphie
09/17/07

8. His Mind

Who knows his mind
better than he knows his own?

Is it the wife who stood arm
in arm for thirty plus years?
the child who learned from him
both bravery and fear?
the mother who raised him
in the ways of the world?

or his own scarred heart
that warred with his mind
and won?

MeeAugraphie
09/22/07

9. Perhaps

and won?
he lied and won?
I played fair and lost?

why do I sit surprised?
why do I stand dejected?
why do I turn and walk away?

why do I repeat this process
when it is in my control
to change it?

is it because I understand how much
he needs to win
and I am the bigger person?
or is it because I know that winning
dishonestly will erode his self-esteem
and I delight in the harm I will have assisted in?

Perhaps, it is that I have not the patience to fight.
Perhaps, it is that I did not feel I deserved to win.
Perhaps, it was all of this or none.

MeeAugraphie
10/03/07

10. Evolution of man

Perhaps, it was all of this or none.
Would one alternative
outweigh conscious thought?
Would one grin
undermine hardened walls
built within?
Would one false word
negate all truth
that came before?
Would one outstretched hand
trip rather than lift?
Would one misstep
change future movement?
Would each of these
displace the other?
Perhaps.
Perhaps not.

MeeAugraphie
10/23/07

11. Corners Turned

turned its corners up,
he did
just like Mom once taught him

fold the long sides in,
fold the short sides in
lift each corner
squish the foil together

there! a little tray
for his fish sticks
just like Mom once taught him

there were no fish sticks
they must have left with Mom.

MeeAugraphie
11/07/07

12. Aftermath of an Accident

They must have left with Mom,
his sisters, he meant,
though he really didn’t know
what a sister was
he only knew he would be
a big brother
and they would be
his little sisters
and look like
the baby next door
with wrinkled skin
(like his dog)
and teeny fists
and tinier toes,
but now their cribs
were gone,
and so was Mom
and so was her red car
and all these people
were patting his head,
his shoulder,
and now Daddy was hugging
him too hard
and he pulled away
and Daddy,
well, you know.

MeeAugraphie
11/09/07

13. Of Friends and Enemies

Well, you know
how it is
when friends
are too busy
to be friends
and enemies
are falling over themselves
to slip in
the door opened
by loneliness

your mind becomes
cluttered with
should have
could have
would have,

but, what if
we just enjoy
our enemies
while their
masks are still intact?

After all,
aren’t a few days of smiles
better than none?

And, what if
enemies grew into their mask?

MeeAugraphie
11/21/07

14. Good or Evil - Simple?

Enemies grew into their mask?
Was it as simple as that?

One person, once enemy,
became friend:
wearing that mask
required filling the shoes
of he who was replaced;
positive growth to match
the filled heart it portrayed.

One person, once friend,
became enemy
wearing that mask
required filling the shoes
of he who was replaced;
negative growth to match
the hollowed heart it portrayed.

What if it were that simple?
Would we start with the boots or mask?

MeeAugraphie
11/24/07

15. Unmasked

Would we start with the boots or mask?
If you can’t decide
I’ll vote for rope
coiled at your side

and silver spurs
on boots of polished leather.

And once unmasked,

you’ll be the handsomest
cowboy

in
second grade.

MeeAugraphie
02/08/08

16. Second Grade

second grade
less than first
less than prime

was that to be his destiny?

merely almost?

that might have worked
had he become
a professional horseshoe player
rather than a stock car racer.

MeeAugraphie
02/08/08

17. Could Have

rather than a stock car racer
he wanted to be
a writer

“knock knock
who’s there?
Someone.
Someone who?
Someone I didn’t mean to become….”

why didn’t he just write a new ending?

MeeAugraphie
02/10/08

18. Quest for Truth

Why didn’t he just write a new ending?
We surely wish to know,
and wish it will have to be
for the knowledge of his truth
will remain buried within him
as surely as guesses are like
opinions (or the other),
we all will have them,
although we may use them
for unintended purposes.

Of course, thought may someday
be accessible by machine,
but if the thinker fails to
acknowledge his own truth,
machines will be useless;
I beg to continue this guessing game….

MeeAugraphie
02/23/08

19. The Guessing Game

I beg to continue this guessing game…
Not tonight?

I beg to continue this guessing game…
Last week?

I beg to continue this guessing game…
Perhaps, last summer?

I beg to continue this guessing game…
Eternity, that’s it, surely, sir!

I beg to continue this guessing game…
If only I knew why you thrust it upon me.

MeeAugraphie
03/03/08

20. If Only I Knew

If only I knew why you thrust it upon me
I would…
No! I cannot lie
(well, I could and would had I the time to think)

If only I knew why you thrust it upon me
I could, perhaps, conscience willing,
take it upon myself to try
(though half heartedly, at the most)

There you have it, the truth, though
cloaked in the parenthical.

Perhaps, you will choose to see only that
which is concrete.

MeeAugraphie
03/03/08

21. Concrete to Shatter

which is concrete?
your heart or your mind?

I must know with no further delay,

for if it is your heart
I shall hammer away at it
with flowers and chocolates and words
meant to caress your skin

for if it is your mind
I shall first pound it
with strong waves of words
meant to smash your barrier

and then allow my words to lap gently
at the fringes of your soul

MeeAugraphie
05/04/08

22. At the Fringes of Your Soul

At the fringes of your soul,
hate exists
I know not how it found you
nor why
permission was given to stay

Such mysteries threaten to bury
me in useless thought
and relentless frustration

I speak of this in warning
hate exists
at the fringes of your soul
where it readies
to do battle with love

Sneak attacks are not unknown
though master plans abound
to build hate cell by cell,
each made stronger by apathy

I implore you fight back
hate exists
at the fringes of your soul

such mysteries threaten to bury

us - all.

MeeAugraphie
05/04/08

23. Of Them

us - all
you - all
them - all
I - one

it matters not which
for either way, I am one -

one of us or you
but not of them

though to them,
I am just one of them.

MeeAugraphie
05/04/08

24. Human

I am just one of them.

not better about this
not worse about that
but
better about something
worse about other

I am just one of them,
that makes me human.

MeeAugraphie
05/11/08

25. Perhaps

That makes me human
but is it enough?

In your eyes,
I venture a guess,
the answer is no.

Perhaps,
it is a matter of
miscommunication

Perhaps,
you sought a god
or a siren
but labeled it human

or perhaps
your unconscious
deems you fail

at relationships of the human kind.

MeeAugraphie
05/11/08

26. The Key

At relationships of the human kind
we sometimes scoff
or throw our hands up

not needed
too much effort unrewarded
no time
why bother?

until the day
we are needed
and appreciated
and wanted

and found
by another human being

our books, computers, hobbies, studies
take a back seat from their place at our side

our dogs, cats, fish, and birds
hear stories told in a different voice

one that comes from
an unlocked heart.

MeeAugraphie
05/20/08

27. Love Approaches

an unlocked heart
beckons love to its inner sanctum

but mind

could

still interfere

for reason voices its opinions,
formed long ago
now fed by worry

and others

and so, it is time to stand
tiptoes at precipice

Swan dive out of danger
with grace,
if you must

cartwheel headlong into love
with joy
if you dare

mind will adjust in time.

MeeAugraphie
05/30/08