I'm going to once again set aside the theme I'd adopted and planned to use this month, for something that came up for me and more or less demanded, in my personal estimation, to be shared.
The last place I'd ordinarily recommend is Facebook, which has more or less become the "poster child" for all that, or at least much of what, is wrong with social media these days. But there are diamonds to be located in the dross sometimes, and this poem, and the process of how I got there, is an example of a diamond, IMHO. So, this time, I'm going to share three poems, one of which is my own, and the other two, along with a bit of accompanying dialog, to show how I arrived at the poem I created. I thought the process was both interesting and fun, and I'm hoping those of you who read this diary will agree. So, follow along below the fold, and hear the story of how I arrived at this particular poem for this time around.
Kalliope
Means "beautiful voice" from Greek καλλος (kallos) "beauty" and οψ (ops) "voice". In Greek mythology she was a goddess of epic poetry and eloquence, one of the nine Muses.
Join us every Tuesday afternoon at the Daily Kos community political poetry club.
Your own poetry is always welcome in the comments.
Bongos, berets & turtle neck sweaters optional.
The keyboard is mightier than the sword.
Here is the first "inspiration poem" that got the process started:
Lay Me Down in the Tall Grass
I wear a blue dress
Vivid as a kingfisher
With daisy's on the breast
You still wear your uniform,
Tie askew, shirt untucked
We meet by the bridge
On a school day in May
Hold hands down the path
Dodging cow pats
Over the turnstile
Through the field
Long grass tickles my legs
Run down the hill
To the river, laughing
No blanket, just a carpet of grass
I lie down and close my eyes
You brush feathered grass
On my dewy cheek, my neck
and lower still, till I shudder
I open my eyes
You block the sun
Looking down at me
And we kiss, the sweetest
softest lips on mine
The birds chorus, a crescendo
Bees buzz their busy path
Landing on dandelions and cow parsley
Daisy chains looped around my wrists
And a floral crown
Like one of Hardy's maidens
The river bubbles over slick rocks
and trout and eels swim
Butterflies flutter by
And you coil a lock of my hair
Around your finger
And whisper, "I love you."
© Sian Rebecca Williams
(I have not edited this poem, nor the other one not composed by me that follows, in any way. There was also an image with this poem, which I have not attempted to include, because I am not sure about the source. You can go to the Facebook page for MVPS if you would like to see it.)
Smoulder
Lie down on that summer grass
Inhale that summery smell
Feel it, run your fingers across it
Spread your fingers palms down and press
And now with the back of your hands
Let the grass tickle
The sun is smothering my face
The sun is permeating my bones
Mmm
It's so sexy
It is so darned sexy
Lying on the grass
On a hot, sunny day.
I think of my youth
The teenage passions
The thrill of it
Lying on the grass in the park
Squinting into the sun
Wishing he would and then he does
It's gone all dark
His face hovers above mine
Blocking out the sun
His mouth covers mine for the very first time
I remember.
And it was so sexy
Just so darned sexy
© Meg Marsden
The first poem was written by the daughter, and the second by the mother, of a pair of poets who, among many others, share their writing on the "Martha's Vineyard Poetry Society" on Facebook. The story of how I got involved with poets from and/or related to Martha's Vineyard, a place I've visited exactly once in my life, is related to the loss of my husband and a story I'll save for another time, or may be gleaned from earlier stuff I've written on Daily Kos. (Lee McCormack, whom I've spoken of and shared poetry by here before, is, of course, part of MVPS too.) But, be that as it may, I derive a lot of enjoyment, and opportunities for learning, as well as occasional sparks of inspiration, from the group. These two poems, along with some dialog that came with them, which follows, are what inspired me to write my own poem, which also follows.
Meg's response to Sian's posting of her poem:
"Lovely Sian and it put me in mind of the following which I wrote a long while ago and you will never have seen..." (Which, of course, included the poem you just read immediately above this.)
Sian's reply to her mother:
"Mum I have read it before, you posted it on my wall ages ago. Love it!"
And, my response to both:
"Okay, now the two of you together have given me an idea for another poem...."
(I should mention here that some of Sian's poetry has given me ideas in the past and I've messaged her previously that she is one of my "muses.")
And here is the poem I came up with. I went in a different direction than the two of them, but I think you can see how what they wrote and the dialog between them, influenced what I did:
Mother/Daughter/Poetry
My mother sent me Patchen
When I was on the cusp
When passion burned within
Like steel in the mold
Like lava at the heart of volcanoes--
My mother knew me,
Mind and heart.
Lover of books, she
Sent me keys, hints
To life's mysteries.
Mind lost to the mists,
Now,
She only knows me
By the heart,
At the root.
We hold hands
And remember with our souls.
© KRP, (myself, just to be clear) 2014
I personally think there is more than a little magic to the process of creating poetry, though more strongly felt some times than others, and this particular episode represented the working of the magic for me. I have to give some credit also to some other DKos diaries, particularly The Grieving Room one for Mother's Day, for some of what went into the process too.
So, I end with thanks to other writers, poets or not, both here and at Facebook, as well as everywhere else I may encounter them in life. Carry on!
Readers & Book Lovers Series Schedule: