Loneliness

 

 

waiting wagon

Single and alone

Some call him

a rolling stone

 

doesn’t know why

the wind blows

but loves the sound

of chimes

as he watches the stars

and the evening moon

 

wonders about his death

someday

wonders if it will be on

a lonely Monday

and wants to be

carried on a long cart

back home

 

 

Found Poem #5

 

The following is another poem inspired by my fellow bloggers. Thanks for your beautiful posts. The attributions follow. Check out their beautiful work.

All is prayer

When thoughts are still

A rainbow of hope

Fills the sky

And I

Pray

 

All is prayer

And I am here

To tell you

We are one

 

All is prayer

Who am I but a body in time,

I ask the universe for love

I am a woman, an artist, a mother, a worker,

But I want to be like water

Flowing calming

And sometimes still

All is prayer

Let it be what will

 

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Haiku Moments

Dear Followers and fellow bloggers,

I am very proud to announce the release of my first Haiku Poetry book – Haiku Moments available through Barnes & Noble. I appreciate your continued support. Thanks to all who bought The Secret Life of Mandalas.

Spring is Here Again

naturalbydesign

I hear the sounds of Spring

sounds that make me want to sing

the songs of yesteryear

to conjure memories so dear

I hear chimes resounding

as the gentle breeze visits

the music is outstanding

energizing the spirit

I hear the flowers bloom

silently and confident

they know somehow

their beauty will rid us of all gloom

Spring is here again

faithful like an old friend

bringing us happiness

with every bud that grows.

Welcome Spring!

I am so glad you are here!

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Remembered

After I wrote The Role of a Poet, I found this post that relates to the premise.

Melba Christie at Poemattic

Remembered

How do you want to be remembered?  asked the poet

There were three poets, one doctor and two teachers present to respond to the poet’s question.

Finally after a long silence and obvious pondering the doctor says, “I want to be remembered  as someone who took my oath seriously.

One poet said, ” I want to be remembered as a poet who wanted to promote peace.”

The other poet said, “I will be remembered as the king of the couplet.”

The remaining poet said, ” I hope people will remember me as the simple poet.”

Then the two teachers looked at each other politely and gestured one another to speak first.

After a few seconds one teacher speaks. “I want to be remembered for my patience,” she said.

The other teacher remains pensive for a few more seconds. She says, “I hope that the students I was not able…

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The Role of a Poet

I often ask myself what is the role or job of the poet? Each time the response depends on what is happening in the world and in my personal life. I ask other poets the same question. Sometimes I wish I could ask my favorite poets, especially those who became well-known after they passed. I could imagine their reaction when they learn in their after life that people finally get and appreciate the poems they wrote.

As I pondered the question I went back to my collection of poetry books and looked for some insights.  Inspired by poet’s biographies and other readings, I wrote a poem that hopefully answers the question. I mean if you have ever asked yourself what is the role of the poet.

 

The Role of the Poet

I believe the world needs a poet more today

It needed one yesterday as well

because a poet is one to tells

truths we may not want to hear

a poet brings to light what is most dear

and helps us to face fear

 

A poet brings you back into your own life

and teaches you how to breathe in and out

in stillness and in meditation

while you listen carefully to your breath and heart beat

and to the divine explanation of why we are all here.

 

A poet is a little god

who soothes your soul

and lets you peek into life’s crystal ball

to see yourself for the very first time

 

A poet sings the songs that make the world go round

and says what matters in free verse or rhyme

a poet knows how to expertly use every utterance and sound

in alliteration or onomatopoeia or assonance

and when it comes to choosing

the right meter

who else can we possibly trust

 

It does not matter what form a poem takes

A poet must not mistake

an epic, a limerick or an ode

As long as a poet can bring back the spring

in the middle of winter.

 

A poet can make you sing

and help you see the purpose of a fly

and you can either believe every word

or decide to defy

its relevance or ambiguity

but we must admit the poet’s acuity

for words and how to use them in a soliloquy.

 

Being a poet is not an easy job

a poet can make you smile

or make your heart throb

 

A poet can also make you think

about so many things that need thinking

and when you don’t understand

the message it can really stink

 

but as for me

I still hope to be

a poet someday.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

National Poetry Month

Melba Christie at Poemattic

April is the month to celebrate poetry. The month has been designated National Poetry Month.  I like to think that with April showers and the beginning of spring comes inspiration and thus more of us may be inclined to pay attention to our muses. I write poems every day. But there is something about spring that inspires me to read aloud my favorite poems and to write more of my own.

The DodgePoetry Foundation is devoted to fomenting the appreciation of poetry read aloud. They sponsor teacher’s seminars called Clearing the Spring, Tending the Fountain, http://www.dodgepoetry.org/schools/spring-fountain/registration-information/ every year. 

Another great site is Poets.org. where you can create your own poetry notebook to collect your favorite poems. Many libraries and book stores sponsor poetry readings this month. Check your town’s local activity calendar.

Happy National Poetry Month. I want to thank the followers and supporters of Poemattic. I…

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Firm Persuasion

Melba Christie at Poemattic

April is National Poetry Month. I will quote from the poets I love and whose verses have guided me through my own journey as a poet. Read a poem to someone you love.

“Does a firm persuasion that a thing is so, make it so? He replied, ‘All poets believe that it does. And in ages of imagination, this firm persuasion removed mountains; But many are not capable of a firm persuasion of anything.” – From the Marriage of Heaven and Hell by William Blake

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National Poetry Month

Happy National Poetry Month!

“Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash.” –

                                         – Leonard Cohen

A few suggestions for things you can do to honor the poets of the world.

 
* Read a poem to someone you love.
* Go to Poet.org and learn about A Poem in your Pocket
* Memorize just one line from a poem everyday.
* Post a short poem on Facebook or any other social media format you like.
* Write a poem for someone special.
* Email a poem to a friend.
*Check out your local library for programs that relate to poetry
* Dare to share a live video of yourself reading a few lines from a favorite poem. #mypoetryselfie.
* Finish this line: My heart leaps up when I behold …
and post it to my timeline or messenger and I will collect all into a large poem on April 30 as a culmination of Poetry Month. Write it in any language cause all languages matter.
* Simply make people aware of the celebration.
If you love music then you love a poet. Bob Dylan just received a Nobel Prize for his body of work as a songwriter.
So poetry is always in the air. It is never to late to become a poetry lover. Remember my friends poetry is life and life is poetry. Have a beautiful Poetry Month.

Visit From An Ancestor

 

Grandmother was a young girl

when an ancestor visited her.

A gentle man from her third heritage

with a wooden flute in hand

played a pleasing tune

a soothing sound

to which she gently swayed.

She asked him where he’d come from,

and how he found his way,

He said a butterfly mapped the route

and he followed the nightingale’s song

but most of all it was the love

that still lived in our home.

 

His voice faded slowly away

and he suddenly disappeared

as mysteriously as he came.

 

The sun shone through

and she awoke

and nothing was ever the same.

Grandmother always said she’d hear

the flute in the distance every now and then.

Some days she’d secretly hoped he visit her again.

 

The day she passed I heard the flute

and a songbird sing softly in my ear.

I knew then everything would be fine.

Because love is what it is

and it lives right here with me.