A Poem a Day, Week 46, Nov 12 to 18, 2022
Welcome to Sifting the Rubble's weekly blog and podcast of my poem-a-day challenge for 2022. I am your host, and poet, Emily Gibson. The poems for the 46th week of the year, Nov 12 to 18, came from experiences of the week and prompts from Move Me Poetry on twitter.
I want to explain, for those new to this podcast, that these are 1 or 2 day poems, which have not gone through the grist of revision. That comes later, something I truly look forward to, as I sift the collection for poems I want to finalize. For now, they are new, not quite steady on their feet, but each speaks of something, so I share them, uncensored. It is part of my healing challenge to write a poem every day this year.
As always, you can keep track of Sifting the Rubble's posts on the Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram platforms:
Facebook (daily posts) : https://www.facebook.com/BlueheronELG
Twitter https://twitter.com/SiftingThe
Instagram https://www.instagram.com/sifting_the_rubble/
Please like and follow and share in whichever ways suit you. Thank you! :)
And now, for this week's poems!
Listen to Week 46 Poetry Podcast
Poem #316, While Graupel Fell on a Winter Horse
by Emily Gibson, Nov 12, 2022
A first “tink-tink” of graupel
on a rusted pipe
fence caught my ear.
My curiosity rose
as sound echoed into
my gloved hand.
My horse munched hay,
oblivious in his warm coat.
Ice fell, crystal white,
cradled on the tips
of his dark brown
but not quite black fur,
like stars from another
planet’s constellations
that winked into view,
released by dusk.
Poem #317, In the Season of Slumber
by Emily Gibson, Nov 13, 2022
Out my window,
a snowblind winter bird
serenades
in quick chirps
amid jumps
from one sun warmed
twig to another.
Is anything as lovely?
A surprise that startled
me out of my
shut-in day
and my ruminations
on ends, as I
am led to do
in November
after the second snow.
The bird chirps
cheer, one more time,
and leaves.
A reminder that we
are not alone
and should always
sing.
Like your letter
that arrived
the same afternoon.
Poem #318, We’re All Fill-in-the-Blank Puzzles
by Emily Gibson, Nov 14, 2022
Last Wednesday, I glanced up,
attention snagged by a glint of color,
misplaced in the day of layered gray.
I perplexed on reason. Not a day
for reflections in any way,
no rain or prisms in sight.
Clouds tipped with rainbows
teased me, a bit here, a bit there,
mere hints of a circle’s potential.
In my eyes, a clue of space
fit fragments into an arc,
an aurora around our star.
Like the playful way you fit my bits
and pieces into a gorgeous, grand
connect the dots puzzle, new to me.
About "We’re All Fill-in-the-Blank Puzzles": When I looked up and caught sight of the fragments of rainbow, I knew I had to write about it, but wasn't sure what form the poem would take. I didn't want it to be mere description, wanted it to lead to greater meaning. This is a poem I definitely will revise later, to pull more out of it.
Poem #319, Fate Goes Both Ways
by Emily Gibson, Nov 15, 2022
Out of the fog,
was not a log!
Appeared to float
on road remote.
Sleek sides of brown,
moved like a clown.
Indecision?
A collision
avoided by
angels on high.
So long, fair deer,
shoo, disappear.
About "Fate Goes Both Ways": I wrote this poem in answer to a prompt to write in a Welsh poetic form, “Cywydd deuair fyrion” that uses rhyming couplets of 4 syllables. It creates a rhythm and energy that can't help bring humor, yet the topic I chose is a bit harrowing and near horror. I attempted to tell the story of this true event, without being overly descriptive, leaving room for readers' imaginations.
Poem #320, May Light Illuminate Your Way
by Emily Gibson, Nov 16, 2022
A Shape Poem
I
do
wish
today
brings you
what is needed
be it hope or help
healing or feeling
and may you
be open.
I
do
wish this for you today, tomorrow,
and the days that follow. You are
deserving and worth it. You have
even earned it. Be kind to yourself,
as you are kind to others. It is all
we can do. Light the flame of your
purpose. Then take a tiny step in
your direction. Even a thought is
a step! Be patient. Be patient. Be
ever patient. A tiny step, another
and soon you look back in awe at
how far you traveled. You will get
there, to a brighter, better day. Yes.
About "May Light Illuminate the Way": This is a shape poem, which makes the shape of a lit candle with the words and line breaks. It was written in response to a prompt of a candle.
Poem #321, Iced Windshields
by Emily Gibson, Nov 17, 2022
Chore Metaphor Poem
Head to the day, sigh at the sight:
Ice on your windscreen blocks out light.
Turn engine on, find those warm gloves
Unbury that ice scraper tool.
Shave a trail like a snail,
pave the way for a safe drive day.
We often spin expectations,
rush past obstacles in our mind.
To prepare to BE clears cobwebs,
like ice on our mental windshield.
Plan to scrape off the night’s debris
and reflect on what you hope comes.
Poem #322, The Day Color Drained from the World
by Emily Gibson, Nov 18, 2022
Ekphrastic Poem for Move Me Poetry battle
Some thought it punishment
for failure to appreciate hues.
Others believed it a signal
from on high: the end was nigh.
Truth be told, it wasn’t that bold
nor a portent sign from above.
The sun simply rose weary
from storms across its belly
and neglected to flip the switch
for full spectrum visibility.
Tomorrow will be a brighter day.
No comments:
Post a Comment