Sweet Heartache: Peonies after Rain

peony buds tremble
yearn--like human hearts--
to break

Live for the Love of it,

Sasha A. Palmer (aka Happy)

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

Weekly Wikems. Odyssey.

Hi everyone, it's Thursday. Wikems time.

Wikipedia poems - wikems. 

Here's the idea:

• Each Thursday I post a link to a Wikipedia article, a quote from it and my wikem inspired by that quote.
• I invite you to check out the article, searching for a quote that clicks with you.  (You are free to use the quote I provide if it happens to be the one.)  
• Once you've found your quote, use it as an epigraph, write your wikem, and post a link to it in the comments below.  (You are welcome to post your wikem directly in the comments if you prefer.)

 Let's play:

My 9-year old son proudly informed me the other day that - since he's 25% Greek - his ancestor is Odysseus.

So, here's your Wikipedia article for today: 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Odyssey

 Here's my wikem:

STORYTELLING

"...their bed was made from an olive tree still rooted to the ground."

He tells her of ancient Greece,
Mount Olympus with its gorges,
and peaks, and gorgeous gods,
quick-tempered, violent,
unleashing their vengeance 
against mortals and each other.
 
He tells her of shining Ithaca, 

a tanned boy out in the sun,

a man with sea water in veins,

longing for voyage and land,

a wanderer whose very name

is casting lament upon his brow.

At nightfall he sheds his stories,

heart bared, stands before her,

trembling, heeding her silence,

a boy-man, rugged, tender,

weathered skin – a map of travels,

its salty lines aching for touch.

She takes his hand, leads him

into the deep of the island,

through the familiar orchard,

to the wedding bed, the olive

still rooted to the ground,

awaiting his homecoming.

Thank you for reading my wikem. 

I look forward to reading yours.

Live for the Love of it,

Sasha A. Palmer (a.k.a. "Happy")

 

November 2014 Poem-A-Day Chapbook Challenge: Day 24

I’ll be with you if you allow me to

Should you decide you need someone to share

Your ashen sky with, or your clear see-through

Bewildered trees, or fragile crystal air

Please think of me before the end of fall

I will be with you, all you need is call

My name, and I will join you, we’ll remain

Here, on this swing, suspended from the high-

Raised hidden beams by silver strands of rain  

Time will sway slowly, softly, by and by

It will give way to winter, while a few

More precious days are ours, I'll be with you.

Live for the Love of it,

Sasha A. Palmer (a.k.a. "Happy")

prompted by Poetic Asides

image credit

"A million winters ago" (poem)

‘twas a million places

a million cries

and a million winters

ago

in some ex-ballerina’s

apartment with eyes

in a city bewildered

by snow

‘twas the time that was perched

tween the land and the skies

in a basket of wonder

and willow

tween the yesterday’s hurts

and tomorrow’s goodbyes

rose petals of dawn

on the pillow

‘twas the world that was simple

it spelled you and I

in the hand of a happy

beginner

we would dance on the ceiling

(I don’t recall why)

and upset so the ex-

ballerina

when we left in a hurry

forgetting to pack

our mem’ries

she roused her ire

she arranged our wings

in a neat sky-high stack

pirouetted

and set them on fire

Live for the Love of it,

The Happy Amateur

 dVerse  is paying tribute to Leonard Cohen

THE VOICE OF MY LAND (Poem, Burns-inspired)

Inspired by “MY HEART’S IN THE HIGHLANDS”

 

By Robert Burns

(25 January 1759 – 21 July 1796)

 The best-known portrait of Burns,

By Alexander Nasmyth, 1787 

THE VOICE OF MY LAND

By Alexandra Palmer

I.

The voice of my land, you’re my blessing, my pain,

I hear it a-calling again and again;

Calling me homeward and pleading me to stay –

We’ve only grown closer since I went away.

My Motherland distant, we’re never apart,

In valleys of mem’ry you cradle  my heart;

You sing to it softly your song bitter-sweet,

As towards the eternal my days swiftly fleet.

II.

I know that one day I shall see your sweet face,

And into my chest my own heart you will place;

Upon my tired head you will lay a dry wreath,

And happy and peaceful I’ll draw my last breath.

The voice of my land, you’re my blessing, my pain,

I hear it a-calling again and again;

Calling me homeward and pleading me to stay –

We’ve only grown closer since I went away.

Live for the Love of it,

The Happy Amateur

Image credit Wikipedia