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Poet Laureate of the MidSummer Poetry Fest

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Tom
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Poet Laureate of the MidSummer Poetry Fest

Post by Tom » Sun Jul 28, 2019 10:48 pm

.

 
Poet Laureate of the MidSummer Poetry Fest


Everyone is eligible.  All you do is post on this thread the best damn poem you’ve ever written.  Limit of two entries per writer.  Write a new one, retrieve an old one – it doesn’t matter – published or unpublished, this one calls for your very best.

And Best Poem wins, no other rules.  Submit by August 5, high noon.  Thereafter the voting polls will open.  

By such voting of the participants of MSPF, thus will be selected the new Poet Laureate of the Tangled Branch MidSummer Poetry Fest.

  So start throwing them in, mates. 

 

Lecram06
Posts: 1484
Joined: Sat Mar 31, 2018 1:13 pm

Re: Poet Laureate of the MidSummer Poetry Fest

Post by Lecram06 » Wed Jul 31, 2019 9:02 am

The Gallery

question--

why does a bronze frog
sit astride

a porcelain sphere
center stage

on a stain glass table
in full view

of a wingless beaked mermaid
watercolor

hanging stiff on a near
snow white gallery wall


because--

each is a work of art
they say

as is the coupling of the flesh
we say
 

Lecram06
Posts: 1484
Joined: Sat Mar 31, 2018 1:13 pm

Re: Poet Laureate of the MidSummer Poetry Fest

Post by Lecram06 » Wed Jul 31, 2019 9:15 am

Do Not Look Back

Mega Church
hugs the roundabout
recruits wallets
can goods
left-overs
souls

Pastor Goodperson
prays at 6:00 pm
come join the saved
give witness to your sins


Beyond the forest rise
in the hollow by the reek
Pythagoras at ease
verses
den't pretend to do
what you don't understand

Car hug the outer lane
to face a grander view--
a sea of mountain peaks
a shore of clouds
prophets in their tents
with sages        wise in every shade

Marquis blinks
believe and be reborn
there is a better deal --
plenty in the hear and now
and on the other side -- 
no matter what you do


Down in the hollow
by the creek
at dusk
against the willow trees
the un-belonging poor
gather round a Sterno can
bless their sacred meal

 

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Deb
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Re: Poet Laureate of the MidSummer Poetry Fest

Post by Deb » Fri Aug 02, 2019 12:20 pm

Marcel, both of your offerings are eloquent and vastly different from each other in every way. I especially like, Don't Look Back, and its layered meanings. Well done.


~Deb

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Deb
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Re: Poet Laureate of the MidSummer Poetry Fest

Post by Deb » Fri Aug 02, 2019 9:22 pm

                                                                            Still       

                                                   The mirthful child and slender young girl
                                                                           Still is

                              She lives within me now, beneath the layers of flesh and bone and life
                                                          The child no longer exposed
                                                                      Still hopeful
           
             Years of sorrowful wisdom entrenched the heart with each emerging love and devastating loss
                                                          Optimistic, embraced in naiveté
                                                                        Still loves


                  The little girl that carefully collected flowers for Mommy hoping for a smile and approval
                                                scolded for bringing weeds into the house
                                                               collects wildflowers
                                                                         still

           The daughter abandoned and rejected by four fathers, the second and longest-lasting, twice
                          Aged 1, 11, 18, and 29. Is there something wrong with me or all those he’s?
                                                                     Still longs

           The big sister who at 11, was forced apart from her two-year-old brother and six-year-old sister
                                                   cries for the years they'll never capture
                                                                     Still crushed
                                             
                              The granddaughter who brought joy and laughter to her grandparents
                                            received more than she knew. Gifts of gatherings,
                                   gumption, sapience, astuteness, traditions, and their love
                                                                      still wishes
                                         she’d listened more, stayed longer, arrived earlier,
                                                                        grateful
                                                                          still

                 The outgoing, talkative friend, up for almost anything, who can pick up where we left off,
                                                             laughing, crying, singing,
                                                                       Still loyal
                     
                                The untrained mother who loves her sons with a depth and breadth
                  of love she never realized possible, worries, what, if any phobias or damage she imparted
                                 or if she made them ready enough for the world and wonders
                                         if they'll ever realize that their lives saved hers
                                                                    Still trying

        The woman who couldn’t trust or dare not believe in a man’s love, fell in love with a patient man
                                                   Her demons heaped upon his back
                                                                    Still worries

                                                   Even though she knows she is loved
                 Their love tested with the betrayals, downs, and ups of married life over 27 years,
                                                                      Still his

              The writer who fails to effectively articulate overwhelming feelings that cascade upon her
                                           begin to engulf and threaten to drown her soul
                                                      Her carefree spirit somehow
                                                                    still rises

                                                The mirthful child and slender young girl
                                                                     still is
                          She lives within me now, beneath the layers of flesh and bone and life

~Deb


I keep thinking this is more of a groaner. I've put it up and taken it down twice, I think, but my kids say it's one of my best. I don't think any of us know what we're talking about.

I think I'll stop thinking and head to the beer tent to do some drinking.  :D It may yet disappear again.

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Gyppo
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Location: UK

Re: Poet Laureate of the MidSummer Poetry Fest

Post by Gyppo » Sat Aug 03, 2019 4:08 am

Sometimes, Deb, a thing needs to be said, to escape from the confines of your own brain.  Things like this don't care if they're not the most eloquent or well crafted.  They just want to get out and run about for a while.  It's good for them.  And, as a consequence, good for you.

Now it's out on the page the young girl has more room to run around.

Technically I'm not sure the weird layout adds anything of value.  Trust the words to do the job.

Gyppo
I've been writing ever since I realised I could.  Storytelling since I started talking.  Poetry however comes and goes  ;-)

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Deb
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Location: Southern California USA
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Re: Poet Laureate of the MidSummer Poetry Fest

Post by Deb » Sat Aug 03, 2019 5:03 am

               


My apologies. Still, was posted three times by accident. :oops: :roll: ;)

I cannot remove the first, weird shaped one (meant to resemble a ladder tree) because it has been commented on and quoted. When I looked at it on a device other than my laptop, it was a mess. I can see why it looks weird and discombobulated. I've redone and posted it. It takes up a lot of space either way.


Have a bountiful day!
~Deb
Last edited by Deb on Sat Aug 03, 2019 7:40 pm, edited 5 times in total.

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Deb
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Re: Poet Laureate of the MidSummer Poetry Fest

Post by Deb » Sat Aug 03, 2019 5:04 am

Gyppo wrote:
Sat Aug 03, 2019 4:08 am
Sometimes, Deb, a thing needs to be said, to escape from the confines of your own brain.  Things like this don't care if they're not the most eloquent or well crafted.  They just want to get out and run about for a while.  It's good for them.  And, as a consequence, good for you.

Now it's out on the page the young girl has more room to run around.

Technically I'm not sure the weird layout adds anything of value.  Trust the words to do the job.

Gyppo

Still

The mirthful child and slender young girl still is

She lives within me now,
beneath the layers of flesh and bone and life

The child no longer exposed
Still hopeful

Years of sorrowful wisdom entrenched the heart
with each emerging love and devastating loss
Optimistic, embraced in naiveté
Still loves

The little girl that carefully collected flowers for Mommy
hoping for a smile and approval
scolded for bringing weeds into the house
still collects wildflowers

The daughter abandoned and rejected by four fathers,
the second and longest-lasting, twice
at ages 1, 11, 18, and 29.
Is there something wrong with me or all those he’s?
Still longs

The big sister who at 11, was forced apart
from her two-year-old brother and six-year-old sister
cries for the years they'll never capture
Still crushed

The granddaughter who brought joy and laughter to her grandparents
received more than she knew. Gifts of gatherings,
gumption, sapience, astuteness, traditions, and their love,
still wishes
she’d listened more, stayed longer, arrived earlier,
still grateful

The outgoing, talkative friend, up for almost anything,
who can pick up where we left off,
laughing, crying, singing,
Still loyal

The untrained mother who loves her sons with a depth and breadth
of love she never realized possible, worries, what, if any phobias or damage she imparted
or if she made them ready enough for the world.
She wonders if they'll ever realize that their lives saved hers.
Still tries

The woman who couldn’t trust or dare not believe in a man’s love,
fell in love with a patient man
Her demons heaped upon his back
Still worries

Even though she knows she is loved
Their love tested with the betrayals,
downs, and ups of married life over 27 years,
Still his

The writer who fails to effectively articulate
overwhelming feelings that cascade upon her,
begin to engulf and drown her soul
Her carefree spirit somehow
still rises

The mirthful, slender child still is.
She lives within me now, beneath the flesh and bones and life.

~Deb


Better?
Last edited by Deb on Mon Aug 05, 2019 12:29 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Gyppo
Posts: 1325
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Location: UK

Re: Poet Laureate of the MidSummer Poetry Fest

Post by Gyppo » Sat Aug 03, 2019 5:56 am

Yes.  To my eyes and 'inner ear' at least.

Other opinions may differ.

Gyppo
I've been writing ever since I realised I could.  Storytelling since I started talking.  Poetry however comes and goes  ;-)

Lecram06
Posts: 1484
Joined: Sat Mar 31, 2018 1:13 pm

Re: Poet Laureate of the MidSummer Poetry Fest

Post by Lecram06 » Sat Aug 03, 2019 8:00 am

Deb wrote:
Fri Aug 02, 2019 9:22 pm
  Still       

                                                   The mirthful child and slender young girl
                                                                           Still is

                              She lives within me now, beneath the layers of flesh and bone and life
                                                          The child no longer exposed
                                                                      Still hopeful
           
             Years of sorrowful wisdom entrenched the heart with each emerging love and devastating loss
                                                          Optimistic, embraced in naiveté
                                                                        Still loves


                  The little girl that carefully collected flowers for Mommy hoping for a smile and approval
                                                scolded for bringing weeds into the house
                                                               collects wildflowers
                                                                         still

           The daughter abandoned and rejected by four fathers, the second and longest-lasting, twice
                          Aged 1, 11, 18, and 29. Is there something wrong with me or all those he’s?
                                                                     Still longs

           The big sister who at 11, was forced apart from her two-year-old brother and six-year-old sister
                                                   cries for the years they'll never capture
                                                                     Still crushed
                                             
                              The granddaughter who brought joy and laughter to her grandparents
                                            received more than she knew. Gifts of gatherings,
                                   gumption, sapience, astuteness, traditions, and their love
                                                                      still wishes
                                         she’d listened more, stayed longer, arrived earlier,
                                                                        grateful
                                                                          still

                 The outgoing, talkative friend, up for almost anything, who can pick up where we left off,
                                                             laughing, crying, singing,
                                                                       Still loyal
                     
                                The untrained mother who loves her sons with a depth and breadth
                  of love she never realized possible, worries, what, if any phobias or damage she imparted
                                 or if she made them ready enough for the world and wonders
                                         if they'll ever realize that their lives saved hers
                                                                    Still trying

        The woman who couldn’t trust or dare not believe in a man’s love, fell in love with a patient man
                                                   Her demons heaped upon his back
                                                                    Still worries

                                                   Even though she knows she is loved
                 Their love tested with the betrayals, downs, and ups of married life over 27 years,
                                                                      Still his

              The writer who fails to effectively articulate overwhelming feelings that cascade upon her
                                           begin to engulf and threaten to drown her soul
                                                      Her carefree spirit somehow
                                                                    still rises

                                                The mirthful child and slender young girl
                                                                     still is
                          She lives within me now, beneath the layers of flesh and bone and life

~Deb


I keep thinking this is more of a groaner. I've put it up and taken it down twice, I think, but my kids say it's one of my best. I don't think any of us know what we're talking about.

I think I'll stop thinking and head to the beer tent to do some drinking.  :D It may yet disappear again.
Deb,

I do not comment often on this this or any site mostly because I get lost, press the wring buttons, fall into technical confusion. But this one poem of yours above, is a powerful gem. It merits publicity for its honesty and daring and courage. I'm a retired psychotherapist. I have heard countless accounts of betrayals and resiliency. This poem is not "a groaner". It is an UPPER. Bravo. Lecram
 

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