Poetry for You

Well, I’ve noticed that I really haven’t been writing any poetry lately. I’ve been writing, writing fiction, writing articles for two magazines, writing in my blog, even writing some monologues but no.. that’s zero, notta, zip, zilch…poetry. So…

I found myself at the Poetic Asides blog where there is usually some really decent poetic activity going on. I was rewarded with a PAD (Poem A Day) challenge. Robert Lee Brewer has decided to challenge readers to create a chapbook by writing a poem each day that focuses on your chosen theme. He will provide prompts for each day’s writing. Of course, this just seemed to be one of those things that falls into your lap, slaps you in the face, and yells “Hey stupid! Wake up; you wanted to write poetry, well, here’s your chance!”

Um, yes, I heard the call and I’ve decided to go for it. I made my theme “Herbs” and have written the first one. Robert refers to this poem as “The Hook” the one that draws the reader into the theme. I’ll probably be posting quite a few of my PAD poems throughout the month of November. That’s how long the challenge lasts. I hope you enjoy and I would very eagerly welcome any feedback from friends and/or critics.

I seem to have a serious problem coming up with decent names for my poems so this one is still unnamed. If anyone has a suggestion I wouldn’t mind considering it. I don’t know what it is about naming a poem. It’s just so hard for me; nothing ever seems good enough for it. I don’t know *shrug* So, without further ado here’s “The Hook”

Foods ring pungent in my watering mouth
fresh as melting sun and living fire.
Sick bodies are guided back to bloom or
granted merciful passage into summerlands.
Apparel liberated from a lackluster life
released into a world of effulgent hue.
Witness to the sight of flowing fields that dance a tempoed waltz in the wind
they sing in their garments - the bells of mother’s ball.
Bearing alms that are gathered by diverse desire
defenseless immolation scattered to aspirations of imagination.
Generations, heirloom spirit sprawls the boundless sphere,
antics of delicate stature camouflage wellborn privilege;
worshipped by some unnoticed by others
rooted in the soil of human animation.