am·a·teur
\ˈa-mə-(ˌ)tər, -ˌtu̇r, -ˌtyu̇r, -ˌchu̇r, -chər\ n. often attrib

[F, from L amator lover, fr. amare to love]

Friday, April 10, 2015

Poetic Asides Poem-A-Day April Challenge Day 10: "How..."


how soft is this morn
carrying yesterday’s storm
how gently it treads

how rich is the grass
heavy with silver droplets
the price for the sun

how full is this world
a vessel filled to the brim
careful not to spill





Live for the Love of it,
Sasha A. Palmer ("Happy")

written for Poetic Asides

Thursday, April 9, 2015

Poetic Asides Poem-A-Day April Challenge Day 9: Work



i am happiest
when i work in the garden
digging up those weeds



Live for the Love of it,
Sasha A. Palmer ("Happy")


written for Poetic Asides

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Poetic Asides Poem-A-Day April Challenge Day 8: Dare



Eleanor Dare

Did she feel happy
standing in the ancient church
on her wedding day,

an artist’s daughter
marrying a bricklayer
a tiler – her man,

still a teenager
like herself – did she tremble
when he kissed her lips?

Did she feel happy
already aware of what
was lying ahead –

the dangers of the
questionable journey to
the unexplored shores,

their son or daughter
crossing the ocean in the
vessel of her womb?

Did she feel happy
in her probably short life?
I daresay she did.





Live for the Love of it,
Sasha A. Palmer ("Happy")

written for Poetic Asides

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

Poetic Asides Poem-A-Day April Challenge Day 7: Love/Anti-Love poem



Longing

I built a small rock garden next to the stone patio, just steps away
from the old kitchen with its nineteen thirties
cabinets that have doors that wouldn’t close refusing to keep

their ghosts locked; I didn’t go far searching, I used the stones
that lay in the backyard, most of them flat –
parts of what once was a perfect border – now buried

underneath the overgrown lawn, when scraped clean their gray
 showed the sparkle in it; the rest –  that
I would like to think were left behind when the frozen

waters retreated melting some years before my time – formed
the crescent-shaped foundation upon which
 I piled the flat ones, building what resembled an Irish wall of sorts,

my small rock garden becoming more of a raised bed, a vessel to be
filled with fresh dirt, parsley and dill seeds
when spring comes after the long wait; on top of the wall

I put two stones with words imprinted on them, the kind they sell
at nurseries, a gift,  “hope” read the one,
the other “joy”, I seem to have misplaced the third one –

“love”.





Live for the Love of it,
Sasha A. Palmer ("Happy")


written for Poetic Asides

Saturday, April 4, 2015

Poetic Asides Poem-A-Day April Challenge Day 4: Departure


Hi, everyone.
How's your April going? 

Here's my wikem written for the Poetic Asides PAD challenge, day 4:




shielded from the wind
plentiful was his valley
he knew no hunger

the earth provided
all that he ever wanted
it held him gently

his woman was warm
like the earth kissed by the sun
rich like the valley

she was not angered
by the distant mountain peaks
he would leave her for

she knew him too well
she knew she never owned him
she knew he would go

“atop a mountain
the day is longer,” he said
atop a mountain

where the air is thin
where her frozen tears sparkle
all the long day through




Live for the Love of it,
Sasha A. Palmer (a.k.a. "Happy")

Thursday, April 2, 2015

Weekly Wikems will be back :-)

Hi,

taking a hiatus - will try to participate in the Poem-A-Day April challenge over at Poetic Asides.

Perhaps, we'll see each other there?


Live for the Love of it,
Sasha A. Palmer ("Happy")

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

Poetic Asides Poem-A-Day April Challenge Day 1: Resistance


April madness begins...

Written for Poetic Asides (special thanks to Margo):



DEFIANT DANCER

They saw lightning from behind closed curtains
They heard thunder on their flat tin roofs
Their ragged hearts expanded like the air
In the path of the electrical discharge

In the never ever town of Everington
They saw a boy dance up the empty streets
In his hand-me-down fisherman’s sweater
Stone-washed jeans the color of the sea

They heard the sound of his fiery feet
Echo in the depths of the coal mines
Stir the ancient beast lying upon
The Magna Carta of the human identity

They gasped as he leaped o’er the brick walls
Free as the rain breaking the cloud open
Light with the eleven-year-old wisdom
The soles of his shoes worn out as their souls



Live for the Love of it,
Sasha A. Palmer ("Happy")