Gray Area

 

Impossible things--when I was little

there weren't very many of them. 

I thought--I might be like a girl I read

about, who woke up speaking Italian

though she never had before.

I thought I might discover a talent for

playing the piano

or hitting a softball

or performing feats of memory.

As time went on--well, you know.

Good at this, not so much at that.

Lucky at neither cards nor love. 

You have--oh, where should I start?

(should I start?) 

gray eyes like my father's,

amused and kind, but in a woman's face. 

I like--how you look in that flannel shirt

of gray, blue, and white, with the maroon henley

underneath, and old blue jeans. 

I like--your bedroom with the pastel

gray walls and cream trim. Yes, I looked

on my way to wash my hands

with your milk & honey soap. 

I'm nervous--but in such a delicious way.

Should I tell you what I'm feeling? I could

ruin this bright beginning, I know...

Your hair--it looks good gray

I want to touch it, touch you,

but chances have gone wrong before.

It's a gray area--how you might react,

how these things are done 

when nothing is familiar or sure. 

Impossible things--Alice's Queen believed

in at least six of them before breakfast

I'm wondering, could you?

Would you--take a chance on Wonderland with me?

________

for What's Going On? Colors Passing Through

Music: Denise King Stuck On You

launch code

 

soul is constant

a bell whose rope is already pulled

ringing in my ears all day long.

my body is its dog

sticking close, loyal as hell,

but short-lived. 

stars are soul

that couldn't be contained

kissing the dark with intention.

one day my body

past all nursing past all curing

will open like an underground silo

and everything

will expand in an instant BOOM

wow, hi, i'm not

an ant, i'm

a piece o' god on fire across the sky--

icarus eat your heart out.

_________

for Word Garden Word List--Gerard Manley Hopkins 

Music: Shay Torrent Flying Fiddles

Word Garden Word List--Gerard Manley Hopkins

 

Good afternoon, my frolicsome flock! It's time for another Word Garden Word List, and this week the words in our list are taken from the poems of English poet Gerard Manley Hopkins.

Hopkins was a Jesuit priest as well as a poet, though his verse did not achieve popularity until after his death. 

Turning to the religious life in his early twenties, his calling was hard on him, as were his issues with his physical and mental health. Life was a struggle for the poet whose work is often filled with bright, dazzling imagery and an awe before nature and God. 

Here is a quote from Wikipedia that reveals some of what Hopkins struggled with:

According to John Bayley, "All his life Hopkins was haunted by the sense of personal bankruptcy and impotence, the straining of 'time's eunuch' with no more to 'spend'... " a sense of inadequacy, graphically expressed in his last sonnets.^[19] Toward the end of his life, Hopkins suffered several long bouts of depression. His "terrible sonnets" struggle with problems of religious doubt. He described them to Bridges as "[t]he thin gleanings of a long weary while"

I had some difficulty in creating this list. Hopkins uses a lot of what is now antiquated language, and also loves to combine two words into one of his own invention. I skipped all of both of those types in order to provide a List that lends itself to modern sensibilities. 

What we do here is to use at least 3 of the 20 words provided in a new original poem of our own. Then just link, and visit others. Easy! This prompt remains active through Sunday. 

Your List:

angels

artist

candle

comb

dappled

disorders

eggs

fetched

ghost

grandeur

havoc

jar

lamps

nursing

remembering

root

soul

stars

topsyturvy

waste

And this week, a bonus word: "adamantine" so as to include at least one of Hopkins' rather flowery choices. 

Aubade II

 

All those songs about waking up in a lover's arms--

I don't know what they're talking about.

Oh, I've known the happy wedding night mattress on the floor

amid the stacks of packing boxes

and the delicious view when the world narrows

to a single cherished face.

The bee, though, doesn't live inside the bloom,

and goes still inside a jar.

Touched on every side by an adoring indigo night,

there is still just one Moon. 

Allow me morning alone in my garden

with just my mug and dog.

It doesn't mean I never loved you, or loved you less.

There is only one dawn--this one

and it only waits so long. 

_______

For What's Going On? "Aubade"

Don't forget, the WORD GARDEN WORD LIST is active through Sunday. 

Music: George Harrison All Things Must Pass

Tricks

 I was playing cards against my own poem, penny a trick

and  

      had

            lost

                  thousands. 

"I brought you into this world," I began,

but she turned into a fog of lemon-fresh Glade,

then to a tiger wearing a bell,

and sat there smiling at me like a dime store Buddha.

She had the keys to me, that's the trouble,

and took them with her when she went. 

Strangers know me backward and forward

and I can only stammer at them, clueless and dizzy. 

She turns me to a gawky bird standing in the sawdust on one leg

while she builds her house around me. 

I am password protected, listed on the National Registry

and greenies stick spikes in me so she can't cut me down. 

I lay an ace and she

spreads out a peacock fan of kings and queens,

Russians and Persians,

lilacs and shade-loving violets.

I am playing cards with my own poem, stanza a hand,

and

       I

        am

             broke

but a newer poem brings me coffee, licks my ear

winds his slender self around me like a climbing vine as I

sweetly purr, "and I can take you out of it." 

_______

For Word Garden Word List -- T S Eliot.

Music: Josiah Bell Change In The Weather

Word Garden Word List--T S Eliot

 Hello friends! Please pardon the brevity of this week's blurb. I woke up today with a sore and pretty useless right arm, so typing and moving the mouse around is difficult, but the List must go on!

This time, our list is taken from "The Waste Land and Other Poems" by T S Eliot. I encourage you to look him up, and please forgive me for not including more background this once. 

What we do here is to use at least 3 of the 20 words provided in a new, original poem of our own. You may include an echo or homage to do with Eliot, but it isn't necessary. The only requirement is the 3 or more words from the List. Then link, visit others, and sit back with a smug sense of self-satisfaction! Me, I'm off to give my arm a good talking-to.

Your List, which remains active through Sunday:

bell

borrow

broke

cards

coffee

eyes

fog

keys

lemon

lilacs

penny

Russian

sawdust

shrubbery

singing

smallpox

spider

tiger

violet

worried

Safe House

 

Welcome to the safe house.

No one will find you here.

The ambulance is like a big rolling cotton ball, isn't it?

The siren has been modified to sound like a waterfall.

Please do not share this location with spouses or children--yours or not.   

Their tread on the white front steps would jar the keyboard of your recovery.

Meet helpers Jenny and George in their clean gray smocks. 

Yes, it's hard to tell which is which!

Many guests forget them even as they stand there smiling. 

In the parlor we have an electric fireplace

and framed Kincades on the eggshell walls.

We ask that you leave your red hats and rainbows with Susie at the door.

A few teensy tiny rules:

no weapons

no newspapers

no Facebook

no over-exertion

no stimulants

no sex

no drama

no poetry.

In a week or two, the nightmares should stop,

along with any disquieting longings or regrets. 

Non-attachment is our way.

You may even levitate, like a balloon.

If you get confused, just follow the white tape on the beige tile.

It can be difficult--even for staff! --to tell the bedrooms from the morgue.

_________

for What's Going On? "Safe". 

Music: the Pretenders Every Day Is Like Sunday

The Word Garden Word List is still HERE through Sunday!