Poetry Corner – Potential

Hello Dear Ones!

Years ago I bought myself a small spiral notebook and pen to keep in my purse. (BTW: Today, the notebook in my purse is about the 25th such writing journal.) On the very back page of this notebook I began jotting down different topics as they came to me randomly – for use as poems, short stories, or as simple paragraphs that might, someday, find their way into a story. It’s a mere list that looks somewhat like this:

Grandmother
Thunderstorm
Mashed bananas
The scent of a baby
Fresh ground/fresh brewed coffee
Candles
Riding a bicycle
Driving a car
The first pickle in the jar
A hug

My list now has about 350 entries of topics I still might write about – someday. Many have already inspired me to write. Some I have written about and yet I have kept the topic on the list as there are so many ways to express the different facets of that same topic – such as thunderstorms! Each and every storm is unique and pulls emotions from within as varied as the storms themselves!

How do I use this Potential Writings list? Continue Reading →

Poetry Corner – Description as Mood Food

Hello Dear Ones!

Last week on Poetry Corner I wrote about each of us being the poem in our everyday lives. Expressing our individuality through our uniqueness. Taking pride in all that makes us special, allowing us to stand out in a crowd – even if only a crowd of one – ourselves.

I also touched briefly on my pleasure at reading quality description – stand alone paragraphs, phrases and poems that ignite the reader’s senses to flare into action. A well written piece can actually activate a physical response as though the body itself was experiencing the event first hand. Craftily complied phrases about food should have the mouth juices flowing. Expressions of tactile origin can have you scratching an itch or brushing an invisible spider from your shoulder or rubbing your fingers and thumb together as though that rose petal truly lay between them. Continue Reading →

Poetry Corner – Poetry as Play

Hello Dear Ones!

Been doing some research on poetry to add to the scope of this post from your perspective – as a reader. My goodness, the number of poets who come into this medium with a heavy heart is dis-heartening.

Thought to lighten things up for you a bit today! Here’s a cute poem by Wendy Morton:

Streaming Flamingoes

Poems are everywhere;
starry, ephemeral, delicious,
for the eating.
Take for instance,
the cyclist
with a pink flamingo aloft,
streaming with iridescent ribbons,
a sunlit metaphor.
Or the skateboard guy
with a suit and flowering tie,
all grace and light,
simply on his way to work.
Or the gift of a recipe for pumpkin soup:
take a pumpkin,
fill it with broth,
potatoes, carrots, thyme.
Bake it.
Eat this poem.

Poetry can be fun! Take any topic. Add humour. Rhyme or no rhyme, matters not. Put sentences together that match, or mix lines up a bit for added flavour.

One afternoon when my son was four and a half years old, he wandered out from doing his thing in the bathroom and his trousers were down around his ankles. Here’s the poem that surfaced in my mind and onto the page:

Oh little boy at half past four
with trousers dragging on the floor
the bathroom may now be a chore
yet every day I love you more.

Haiku poems are simple three line poems and can be fun ways of capturing emotions more expressive than a mere sentence. Cinquain poems are five-lines. Click here for a few examples of other easy styles to use.  Check out the List poem style. Here’s one of my own personal five line favourites (though it’s not a cinquain as the syllable and word count don’t match the formal style):

Sunset symphony
scents of cedar
and fresh mown grass
titillate the senses.
I’m smiling!

There was a day when I had a poetic inspiration to write a poem about writing poems and, yikes! a writer’s worst nightmare – no working pen in my purse to capture the thoughts before they dissipated like fog at sun’s rise. Anyone watching me would have wondered what possessed me – I was quite frantically attempting to find something in my purse that I could use as a writing tool. I was ready to use my lipstick tube when I recalled having been to an art store a few weeks before to purchase a turquoise pen.  No turquoise pens were there to be found. What they had were artist brush pens in different shades of blue than what I had in mind, yet I was moved to buy one and put it in a zippered compartment that I never normally use. With a huge feeling of relief at finally finding a creative tool, this was the resulting poem recorded that day:

Poem as Art

What is this?
A poet without a pen?
Glad tidings be
That fancy marker
Grace my person
And my purse
To allow the artistry
Of words
The creation of phrase
The lyric of tongue
To unfold in indian ink
Peacock blue
Upon lined page
As yet empty
Awaiting breathlessly
The touch
Of the artist’s stroke.

No topic is too simple or foolish or too often written about by others to be written about by you if you are inspried to do so from a creative and playful bent. If you find magic in the world around you, anything and everything can be your inspiration!

Clouds

White clouds growing
changing in the east
building
expanding
as though the Ghostbuster’s
Marshmallow Man
was very slowly
arising
stretching
up and out
from a long held
crouch.

Here’s an exercise for you if you’re so inspired to indulge:

Below I’m going to give you the description of someone I saw one day last summer. I would encourage you to write a poem – or several poems if inclined – about this individual. Be playful. Be inventive. Trust the words that come to your mind. Write them down no matter how foolish!

Don’t edit what words you hear in your head before you write them out, and don’t edit them once they’re on the page. Never use an eraser! Never use the delete key! Once words have been removed, you can’t get those thoughts and inspirations back. And trust me, some of my worst phrases or sentences may have been inappropriate for the piece I was working on at the time, yet – lo and behold – I found them to be modifiable and ideal for something else along the way!

Here’s the description:

*an 80 something woman with long ringletted hair, wearing a  sun-faded yellow, broad brimmed hat with wilted blue silk flowers. She sports an aged gingham print summer dress hiked to her knees, showing off her rolled-down support hose while riding a rust-red bicycle. She hums a tune that has her smiling. Though you do not recognize the tune,  imagine it to be … any tune you choose.  Possibly: K-K-K-Katie, Beautiful Katie, You’re the only G-G-G-Girl that I adore … Or maybe: Barney Google, with the goo-goo-googly eyes, Barney Google with a wife who’s twice his size … ( yes, those really were songs that were popular in her day!)

Now, make a poem from the above as it inspires you. Make it playful, fanciful, light, loving. Yes, you can make it sad if you are so moved … yet my hope for your expansion today would be to show you how easy it can be to become poetic – in every aspect of your life, from the frying pan’s sizzle to the awe of dew drops on the first crocuses of Spring – and to do it playfully as a child might.

Here are a few examples from my own inspiration:

The yellow hat brim flapped and flapped
Against her cheek it slapped and slapped
The bicycle chain it tapped and tapped
As the old woman hummed a tune.

Or how about?

The blue flower wilted, drooping sadly
Rolled support hose retracting badly
Little old lady peddling madly
Humming gladly.

Or this one?

Yellow hat and wilted flower
Hair in ringlets a winded mess
Support hose rolled beneath the knees
Above the knees a gingham dress.

I’ll leave you now with, hopefully, inspirations floating around in your own mind. Go find that pen and some paper or open up your word processor and have fun!

Once done, if you care to send your results on to me through our comments option below, I’d love to read them! Let me know if it would be okay for me to publish here what you send me – I will honour your request – even if it means publishing it anonymously or with your first name only!

Happy poeming!!!!!

In Light and Laughter,

Marcia

Poetry Corner – Being the Light

This week Mike and I have been discussing the subject of being the light – radiating our own inner light out to the world around us. It may, or may not, become a topic for our next He Says/She Says post … yet it sparked my search for poetry related to light and joy in life. I was quickly successful when I picked up a recent ‘find’ at my very favourite Victoria book store – Russell Books.

From Gifts from a Course in Miracles:

Light and Joy

You are the light of the world.

The light is in you.
Darkness can cover it,
but cannot put it out.

Why wait for Heaven?
Those who seek the light
are merely covering their eyes.
The light is in them now.
Enlightenment is but a recognition,
not a change at all.

There is no difference
between love and joy.

Joy has no cost.
It is your sacred right.

You can exchange all suffering
for joy this very day.
Practice in earnest,
and the gift is yours.

In Light and Laughter,

Marcia

Poetry Corner – moving into 2010

Dear Ones,

Last week’s Poetry Corner honoured women poets and their Christmas poems. This week, so close to New Year’s Eve, I thought to offer the same honour to the male poet counterparts. Alas, there were such sad, depressing and angry poems written by the men that I had a hard time finding any poems at all that resonated with optimism and the love of the past year going and expressing excited potential of the year newly to arrive. All, that is, but the one I’ve recorded below by Robert W. Service – whose last stanza fit the very mood I hoped to create as the baton of love changes hands to another year of possibility:

The Passing of the Year

 

by Robert W. Service
Jan. 16, 1874 – Sept. 11, 1958

 
My glass is filled, my pipe is lit,
My den is all a cosy glow;
And snug before the fire I sit,
And wait to feel the old year go.
I dedicate to solemn thought
Amid my too-unthinking days,
This sober moment, sadly fraught
With much of blame, with little praise.

Old Year! upon the Stage of Time
You stand to bow your last adieu;
A moment, and the prompter’s chime
Will ring the curtain down on you.
Your mien is sad, your step is slow;
You falter as a Sage in pain;
Yet turn, Old Year, before you go,
And face your audience again.

That sphinx-like face, remote, austere,
Let us all read, whate’er the cost:
O Maiden! why that bitter tear?
Is it for dear one you have lost?
Is it for fond illusion gone?
For trusted lover proved untrue?
O sweet girl-face, so sad, so wan
What hath the Old Year meant to you?

And you, O neighbour on my right
So sleek, so prosperously clad!
What see you in that aged wight
That makes your smile so gay and glad?
What opportunity unmissed?
What golden gain, what pride of place?
What splendid hope?  O Optimist!
What read you in that withered face?

And You, deep shrinking in the gloom,
What find you in that filmy gaze?
What menace of a tragic doom?
What dark, condemning yesterdays?
What urge to crime, what evil done?
What cold, confronting shape of fear?
O haggard, haunted, hidden One
What see you in the dying year?

And so from face to face I flit,
The countless eyes that stare and stare;
Some are with approbation lit,
And some are shadowed with despair.
Some show a smile and some a frown;
Some joy and hope, some pain and woe:
Enough!  Oh, ring the curtain down!
Old weary year! it’s time to go.

My pipe is out, my glass is dry;
My fire is almost ashes too;
But once again, before you go,
And I prepare to meet the New:
Old Year! a parting word that’s true,
For we’ve been comrades, you and I —
I thank God for each day of you;
There! bless you now!  Old Year, good-bye!

 

And since this is my blog spot I get to choose one final poem of the year. One of my own, commemorating the departure of the old year and the honouring of the new:

Ode to New Year’s Day

by Marcia Mae Nelson Pedde

Today we smile in celebration of the new
Let go the past to better see the future view
Behold what can be, shall be, will
Emblazoned by desire beating still
And fearing failure never more
Stepping boldly through the door
Into the realm of quantum realm
Perfection

Happy New Year Everyone.

May you bring to 2010 every opportunity for the most amazing year … filled to overflowing with not merely the potential but the realization of dreams come true. Allow in all that is good. Live your highest excitement each and every moment of your day. Laugh and love and play and create. Be the best you in all your precious moments.

In Light & Laughter & Love,

Marcia

Poetry Corner

With Christmas just days away, today’s Poetry Corner honours three women who have written poems about this particular topic. I went straight to the top – the cream of the crop. These women you already know by name, but you may not be familiar with their seasonal writings.

Notable Women: Christmas

Elizabeth Barrett Browning (March 6, 1806–June 29, 1861)

The Holy Night

We sate among the stalls at Bethlehem;
The dumb kine from their fodder turning them,
Softened their horned faces
To almost human gazes
Toward the newly Born:
The simple shepherds from the star-lit brooks
Brought their visionary looks,
As yet in their astonied hearing rung
The strange sweet angel-tonge:
The magi of the East, in sandals worn,
Knelt reverent, sweeping round,
With long pale beards, their gifts upon the ground,
The incense, myrrh, and gold
These baby hands were impotent to hold:
So let all earthlies and celestials wait
Upon thy royal state.
Sleep, sleep, my kingly One!

Helen Keller (June 27, 1880 – June 1, 1968)

The only real blind person at Christmas-time
is he who has not Christmas in his heart.

Louisa May Alcott (November 29, 1832 – March 6, 1888)
(better known for writing Little Women)

O the Beautiful Old Story

1. O the beautiful old story!
Of the little child that lay
In a manger on that morning,
When the stars sang in the day;
When the happy shepherds kneeling,
As before a holy shrine,
Bless’d God and the tender mother
For a life that was divine.

2. O the pleasant, peaceful story!
Of the Youth who grew so fair,
In His father’s humble dwelling
Poverty and toil to share,
Till around Him in the temple,
Marveling, the old men stood,
As through His wise innocency
Shone the meek boy’s angelhood.

3. O the wonderful, true story!
Of the messenger from God,
Who among the poor and lowly,
Bravely and devoutly trod,
Working miracles of mercy,
Preaching peace, rebuking strife,
Blessing all the little children,
Lifting up the dead to life.

4. O the sad and solemn story!
Of the cross, the crown, the spear,
Of the pardon, pain, and glory
That have made His Name so dear.
His example let us follow,
Fearless, faithful to the end,
Walking in the sacred footsteps
Of our Brother, Master, Friend.

Source: Carol 255, Rev. Charles L. Hutchins, Carols Old and Carols New (Boston: Parish Choir, 1916). Author is listed as “Louise May Alcott” in the original of this book.

Poetry Corner

This past May I had the honour and privilege of attending a personal week of retreat at Queenswood here in Victoria, BC, Canada. What an amazing opportunity and experience! In the quiet and beauty of this secluded area, I spent the majority of time in meditation – walking, reading, writing – listening and feeling. Even meals were a time of silence if I chose the earliest sitting.

I found myself drawn to the library (open 24 hours) late one evening and discovered a new author, Wendy Morton. She is a local woman, from Sooke, BC here on Vancouver Island. Her book “Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast” practically fell into my hands from an upper shelf display as I walked by. Through this book and her shared story and writings, Wendy has inspired me to perform spontaneous, playful ‘Random Acts of Poetry’.

In Wendy’s book (definitely a worth read!!!!!), she describes a style of poetry I’d never heard of before – Pantoum. It is a French form of poetry with ‘an intricate pattern of line repetition’.

Since that day, I’ve found myself using the Pantoum style any time I want to delve deeper into a concept. I’ve used it to expand ideas, to open myself up when blocked about something, to more fully explore a fabulous emotional response to a person or situation. Basically, when I want to understand my own self better, I take a thought or idea and ‘pantoum’ it!
Continue Reading →

Poetry Corner

Poetry Corner:
Each Wednesday of the week Mike & I shall choose a poet to honour, a poem that inspires us or may even share one of our own poetic creations.
Today’s poetry dedication is to one of my very favourite poets – Mattie Stepanek, the young boy who died at the age of 14 having inspired millions of people with his personal Heart Songs – encouraging each of us to find and sing our own. Mattie was one of Oprah’s dearest guests, having appeared on her show several times over the course of his short life.
Today I honour Mattie J.T. Stepanek
Crystal Celebration
ritten in December 1996
Printed in his book
Journey Through Heartsongs
By Mattie J.T.Stepanek
And be sure to check out Jeni Stepanek’s (Mattie’s mother) website: http://www.mattieonline.com/ as she continues her son’s legacy and, in turn, travels her own journey to healing.

Poetry Corner:

Each Wednesday of the week Mike & I shall choose a poet to honour, a poem that inspires us or may even share one of our own poetic creations.

Today’s poetry dedication is to one of my very favourite poets – Mattie Stepanek, the young boy who died at the age of 14 having inspired millions of people with his personal Heart Songs – encouraging each of us to find and sing our own. Mattie was one of Oprah’s dearest guests, having appeared on her show several times over the course of his short life.

Today I honour Mattie J.T. Stepanek with one of his own poems:

Crystal Celebration

Sometimes,
Sunrise is like a heavenly crystal ball.
Everyday,
In the little bit of time between night and day,
The Angels look at the earth
To see how things have been and
To see how things are going and
To see how things will be.
The sky changes from dark
Into Angel-whites and Angel-golds.
The blackness of trees starts to glow with
Pinks and purples and oranges from their hearts.
And during each dawn,
All the Angels gather up and have
A celebration in God’s honor!
And sometimes,
You can even watch
And join them in the celebrating.
Just look out into the sunrise,
Then jump into your own heart,
Float into the air like in a dream,
And pray with love and praise and thank-yous
For your life, for your spirit, for your sunrise…
And for being a part of this heavenly crystal ball!

*******

Written in December 1996

Printed in his book

Journey Through Heartsongs

By Mattie J.T.Stepanek

And be sure to check out Jeni Stepanek’s (Mattie’s mother) website: http://www.mattieonline.com/ as she continues her son’s legacy and, in turn, travels her own journey to healing.

In Light & Laughter & with the deepest appreciation to Mattie,

Marcia