Watermark: Poem Dancing

Poem-a-Day #8 - 9

Just as I was hitting my stride, I hit the wall ~ says the tired poet, plum out of metaphors. (Should that be "plumb"?)

winter window

Each dust
stroke a deep breath and
the canary in bloom.
“Dusting” Rita Dove

a dusting of snow ~ cat
at my elbow every breath
a purr ~ earlier flocks
of grosbeaks waxwings
stripping the mountain ash
of berries ~ this day a winter
pause ~ a white cat paw
stepping down

Between

Praise dies
in my throat or in the spooky rift
between itself and its intended.
"Daynight, With Mountains Tied Inside" by Alice Fulton

so much depends | on the moment(s) between | desire | & | touch

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It's time for the Watermark New Year Haiku Collaborative Poem Dance! You are invited to add your haiku in the comments, or you can email it to me at blogdivaATsbpoetDOTcom (link at the bottom of the sidebar.) Include a link to your site if you have one. Over the following few days, I'll pull the poems up into the post. Any haiku form is welcome.

Comments are currently moderated, which I don't usually do, but comment spam has been really bad the past weeks. Let's hope that improves with the new year.

I'll add my haiku when I have one, and this post will stay at the top of Watermark into the New Year.

snowflake

Shadows of day lengthen
Night is yawning awake
Yet Cicadas sleep soundly

~ Donald Harbour

snowflake

New Year’s eve
no falling snow
melt of the snowman

~ Gennady Nov

snowflake

old friends
hugs and New Year wishes -
the empty car park

~ Gillena Cox

snowflake

between change
and more
change

~ Deb

snowflake

last year's moon
waning near the horizon
a new dawn

~ Pris Campbell

snowflake

turtle trophy
New Year resolutions
that don't atrophy:)

~ Bina Gupta

snowflake

new year -
the green cordwood
checked with spider webs

~ Susan Murata

snowflake

waiting on the moon
to bask in the sun
new year

~ Alee Imperial Albano

snowflake

new year
the path to the henhouse
how full of expectation!

~ Susan Murata

snowflake

crocodile dreams
no rain this winter day
last box still to pack

~ Sharon Ryals Tamm

snowflake

another year
another
letting go

~ sbpoet

snowflake

cinematic noir
new year’s day a smudge of ink
writing with no lamp

~ bobbi lurie

snowflake

New Year's Eve --
trying the perfume
my mother used to wear

~ Erin Bow

snowflake

[Note: the format on the older posts, below, got very strange when I redesigned Watermark last week. If I have the energy, I'll go back in and redo them. But no promises. And the new posts won't look like that.]

RELATED POSTS (for inspiration):

New Year Haiku 2011 - Come Play!

It's time for the Watermark New Year Haiku Collaborative Poem Dance! I try to do this every year, but don't always make it. This year I've been reminded by many folks getting here via New Year Haiku searches, and by the first contribution.

You are invited to add your haiku in the comments, or you can email it to me at blogdiva AT sbpoet DOT com. Include a link to your site if you have one. Over the following few days, I'll pull the poems up into the post. Any haiku form is welcome.

I'll leave this post at the top into the New Year; I don't have my haiku yet, but here is our first offer for 02011:

My plan for a new year

Tis that time to look
Inside, and stretch up and out
Imagine, and do

~ Howard Dubowitz

sweeping the threshold | a new broom

~ sb

"Next year will be different"--
watching others party
on TV

~ Dave

New Year's Eve--
so pleased my balled-up tissue
makes the waste basket

~ Dave

Ah, the new year -

Is it, blessed or cursed?
Unknown until, the restless days
are spent -

like a night of love.

~ Cathy

At midnight fireworks explode
dogs bark then settle
geese pass honking overhead.

~ Kate Fern

new year's morning
a hawk takes a sparrow
from the feeder

~ sb

one one and one one
seem to say 'new beginning'
at least i hope so

~ jenett

He comes back
from a season's fishing
sleek as a seal.

~ Cindy

However it ends,
it begins with a kiss and
a wish for the best.

~ Jennifer Simon

winter morning, new year
black dog shakes snow from her back
the snow keeps falling

~ Susan Butler

RELATED POSTS (for inspiration):

Almost time for the New Year Haiku

New Year Haiku 2005

New Year Haiku 2007

New Year Haiku 2008

New Year Haiku 02009

SEE ALSO:

small poems

small poems @ Watermark

Poem Dancing @ Watermark

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New Year Haiku 02009

patting the windowpane
kitten's first snow

Usually I get this up earlier, but TypePad has been having commenting problems; some of you know this already. If you would like to contribute, leave a poem in comments, or email me at blogdiva AT sbpoet DOT com, and I'll bring your poem up into this post. I'll leave this post at the top for awhile.

As you can see from that two-liner up there, I am not dogmatic about haiku. I don't count syllables. My small poems tend to be just that: little pithy poems. So don't worry about form.

Here's a person with plans:

DC in 08
July move to Charlottesville
Our home in 09

Posted by: meridith

RELATED POSTS:

small poem ~ a poem dance!

UPDATED: We have a poem dance! Come dance with us! Add your poem in comments, or email it to me, and I'll add it to the dance.

new moon
spring rain
begin again

                  ~ sb



inspiring thought
new chance
to understand

                  ~ jenett

sky
is hardest —
rainy day jigsaw

                  ~ Shelley

like a
breath of
fresh air

                  ~ niki

sun's jewels
sparkling all afternoon
across the tides

                  ~ bobbi

interiority
complex, a leaf
of fresh air

                  ~ Pearl

my dog stella
jumps and spins
within the snow

                  ~ Judith

From northern NH:

No shadows
outside my window~
snow suffocates spring.

                  ~ Linda Jacobs

eyes mirror
what lies deep
within our souls

yet change is set
like a story told
it must unfold

                  ~ Beloved Dreamer

Spring cold

I could water the world

through my nose.

                  ~ Cindy Smith

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New Year Haiku

It's time for the Watermark New Year Haiku Collaborative Poem Dance!

You are invited to add your haiku in the comments, or you can email it to me at blogdiva AT sbpoet DOT com. Include a link to your site if you have one. Over the following few days, I'll pull the poems up into the post. Any haiku form is welcome -- including American Sentences.

Here are the contributions:

Continue reading "New Year Haiku " »

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Almost time for the New Year Haiku

Three years ago, Andrew told me there is a tradition of writing a 'positive' haiku on the first day of the year. So I wrote one, and it became a collaborative poem dance. I forgot in 2006. We did one here at Watermark again last year, but I was late, and lax, and it was brief.

This year, folks are landing here again from searches for new year haiku, and I'm being much more consistent in my posting, so I decided to start early with a reminder to you all: the Watermark New Year Haiku Collaborative Poem Dance will appear here again this year, on January 1, 2008. That's Tuesday!

I'll put the post up early Tuesday morning, and you are invited to add your haiku in the comments, or you can email it to me at blogdiva AT sbpoet DOT com. Include a link to your site if you have one. Over the following few days, I'll pull the poems up into the post.

Any haiku form is welcome -- including American Sentences.

Here is a not-so-positive haiku, to send this year out:

year's end -
the cat box full
of old shit

RELATED POSTS:

New Year Haiku 2007

I keep getting visitors who are looking for New Year Haiku -- which I had here, two years ago -- when we did a New Year Haiku collaborative poem dance:

Andrew tells us there is a tradition of writing a 'positive' haiku on the first day of the year. His is here, and Jill has joined in here. Mine is below; if you would like to add yours to the comments, I'll bring it up for a New Year's poem dance.

Here is this year's haiku from Andrew. It's a bit late, but I think it's time for me (and maybe you?) to do it again. Mine is for Niki, today's birthday woman:

old moon, wolf moon
just past new year's
celebration moon

& a quick note -- I've been a bit under the weather, as they say -- and that's why I'm so far behind on emails, responding to comments, and so on. Please keep on being patient with me. And -- thank you to Patia for the pointer to the moon names, which I expect to be using all year.

Very late [it's now August] I get back to this, to post:

From Pauline:

Winter Afternoon

Snow birds flit and swirl
Like remnants of windblown leaves.
Dusk descends too soon.

From Cathy:

Wednesday's full moon
brought no snow,
only false dreams.

From 8~) pam:

And we begin
to dance anew
filled with starry hope

and from Anne, a link to Moon Beauty.

My apologies to you all for these months of delay. Your poems are gifts, and I thank you for them.

RELATED POSTS:

Snapshot Poem 14 June 02006

I am stubborn, sulky
and sullen, caught
in a thorned net
of dreams --

too many children
in need of rescue,
too many villains
smug, and famously

unpunished. I am
a glass jar, filled
with judgement
and despair --

even as a rainbow
circles the sun;
even as the aspen
sings and shimmers

in the wind. I refuse
to take pleasure.
I will not listen.
I will not see.

UPDATE: Andrew has written a response to this poem, thus, perhaps, beginning another collaborative poem dance. You are all invited; just add your poem to the comments, and I will bring it up and add it to the post. Here's Andrew's:

I am open to
suggestion, free
in a life of
comfort and choices,

my children so
secure and active,
villains locked away
in the jug, silenced

forever. I am
a strong breeze, filling
sails of laughter
and life --

a rainbow around
the sun, a white gum
by the river
as it shimmers

in response. I delight
in taking pleasure.
I hear the city
whispering and see
the ocean lapping.

From Cathy:

Then again

I am a jar
that’s sitting outside

Maybe the rains
will come and the rainwater
will fill and overflow
this jar,

till all is wash away

Renewing me back
to the pureness of hope.

From Lynn:

I AM

I am milky, warm
and moist. I am the thing
you see in the mirror
that vanishes
when you look at it
dead on.
I am not your child,
or your mother,
or you for that matter.
I am the thing
that rescues,
that pushes you
to the edge
then pulls you back.
I am what you want
at night, what you won’t
talk about the next morning.
I am your all-access pass,
your movie marathon,
the thing you and your friends
giggle about when you think
I’m not within earshot.
I am tougher than nails.
I am in control.
I’m onto you.
I’m not what you think I am.