Haiku 223 by Melba Christie
Rocks mark the grave
Tears water the earth
Daffodils bloom
Don’t forget to write a stanza or line from a favorite poem by any of the following poets:
Maya Angelou
Sylvia Plath
Ezra Pound
Shel Silverstein
Tag Archives: Poemattic
Happy National Poetry Month
Join the celebration! Read a poem a day! Send a poem to someone you love. Join Poemattic’s Challenge. Every day I will list the name of a few poets. All you need to do is copy a quote from a poem by one of the poets listed that day. Make sure you give us the poet’s name. Tell us why you chose the poet and why you picked the specific stanza or line. Please publish it in the comments section. Happy reading! Happy writing! Remember “Poetry is Life! Life is poetry!”
Connect Ideas
Loving Words
Words are so important. They can rise you up or bring you down to the lowest point ever. They have always captivated me. I cannot let one word go by unnoticed just because I do not know its meaning.
I especially like the ones with soft, sweet sounds. The words that melt your heart. This is why i am proposing a challenge starting today until January 31st. Make a list of the sweetest sounding words you have ever heard. Use the hashtag #lovingwords@poemattic.com.
Let us remember the power of words. Let us use words wisely and make them resonate for the good of humanity.
Connect Ideas
Once Again
Once again
a sweet memory visits me
I could feel her hug me tight
and I feel free
to let go of my fears.
Connect Ideas
Coming to America
I re-blogged this poem in honor of my mother. I can’t imagine what she would say about all that is happening right now. I hope she is not too worried.
Coming to America
She was only 18 years old
Her heart raced in her chest
like galloping stallions on the finca
they left on the island of emerald-green.
Soon their ship would pass by Lady Liberty;
All decks were packed with passengers
Some would salute proudly,
others knelt thankfully
as if at church,
but she simply held her breath
like when you get ready to
blow-up a balloon at a birthday party.
Her dreams danced in her head
like her favorite dancers Fred Astaire
and Ginger Rodgers.
She envisioned herself looking out
her bay window framed with lace curtains
as her two young girls jumped rope.
She imagined her Cape Cod home
surrounded by a three-foot white picket fence,
daffodils and daisies leaning comfortably against it.
That was her American Dream.
She knew there was hard work ahead
No one said it would be easy
her heart reminded her everyday
View original post 115 more words
Connect Ideas
Found Poem # 3 – Truth
As promised I will continue to write Found Poems. Please note the attributions.
She reaches up to wash the sky with pale blue
so it will be ready when you need it
Exploring the world within
Is only possible when you are true
the poet said to thyself be true
In the corners of my mind,
I watch the clouds move in
Hoping for the cleansing rain they might bring
We need truth to prevail
Clean and fresh to drench our souls
With aromas real and natural
Not the alternatives, no , no
We have to learn quiet again
All of us in unison
Still and determined
To reach up and paint a sun filled sky
And not forget to ask, “Why?”
Attributes
https://thecheesesellerswife.wordpress.com/
https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/70181445/posts/4420
https://patcegan.wordpress.com/2017/01/28/growing-courage/
https://patcegan.wordpress.com/2017/01/28/our-unknown/
https://wordpress.com/read/blogs/53424024/posts/20163
https://jeffschwaner.com/2016/11/26/conversations-i/
Connect Ideas
@)!$ 0r 2014
No matter what happens
No matter what your resolutions may be
A new year is a new journey
A new year is what you help it to be
2014 or @)!$
Make it the best
Melba Christie at Poemattic wishes you a Happy New Year! Thanks to my readers for your continued support.
Connect Ideas
Writing prompt Challenge for Today’s Author
This is in response to a Writing Prompt challenge at http://todaysauthor.wordpress.com/
The Bus Driver
The bus driver looked familiar, but she couldn’t figure out how she knew him. Anna dropped six quarters into the coin slot and as she walked to take the first available seat, she remembered. It was Mr. Davis, her former piano teacher. Her hands started shaking. She caught him looking back at her through the large rear view mirror. Anna slid in her seat and took out a book from her tote to cover her face away from his stare. Could he possibly have recognized her after so many years? After all she was only eight when it happened.
Anna could not understand how he managed to be out of prison so soon. She was 28 years old now and his sentence was supposed to be for thirty-five years, after his conviction for molesting another girl he tutored privately. He was a fantastic teacher and she never could understand how he could have done such a horrible thing. He was always a gentleman with her. But that other little girl told her parents what he had done. Her dad almost killed Mr. Davis when he found out.
Anna anxiously waited for her stop. In her head she planned how she would get off the bus. She was closer to the front but she did not want to face him again. But she hated to leave through the back of the bus; it was a short walk but she always stumbled and was afraid of falling. Anna wore a brace; one of her legs was shorter and it made her so self-conscience.
The bus stopped before she could pull the cord. Did Mr. Davis know this was her stop? She trembled at the thought. She had lived in the neighborhood all her life. Anna finally reached the rear door as the bus driver pulled the lever and lowered the bus to let her off. She stepped down slowly trying not to look back.
As Anna walked towards the cross walk the bus was still stopped at the corner. She walked as fast as she could and suddenly she heard a strong raspy voice call out to her. It was Mr. Davis. He said, “Anna, I just want you to know I did not do it. My case was reviewed and I was found innocent and let out. I just wanted you to know.” He smiled at her and waved. She never rode the bus again after that day. Anna did not know what to believe although deep down she wanted to believe he was innocent. Mr. Davis had always been so kind to her and he was such a good teacher. Anna sat at her piano that evening and played Ludwig van Beethoven’s No. 4, G Major, Op. 58. It was the piece she had mastered and was a favorite of Mr. Davis.
Related articles
- Ludwig van Beethoven’s birthday (eventsblogg.wordpress.com)
- Classical Music Composers (mademan.com)
Connect Ideas
Happy Birthday Poemattic!
I cannot believe that almost a whole year has passed since I wrote my first post for Poemattic. One hundred and eighty-one posts later, I feel like I have shared so much with my faithful 101 followers thus far. I have learned so much from other WordPress bloggers . It is like I have taken a year-long course. I want to thank all my followers. Every time I receive a new comment or see that little orange star on my dashboard my spirit is lifted.
I have tried to get some of you to take part in a few challenges. I hope that I am able to create more ways to get you to interact. The purpose of Poemattic was to create a space for you to share original or very favorite poems. I am hoping to be considered for Freshly Pressed Award.
I will start posting original recording of my poems. I love reciting and during National Poetry Month this year I will launch a page with audio-recordings of my poems.
Please continue to visit Poemattic. I love the company and feel Like I am a member of a very special community.
Poemattic: Poetry and Art for the Soul 
You must be logged in to post a comment.