From In the Air Tonight to Just Breathe, this month’s playlist is a whirlwind assortment of classic songs and new-found favorites. Let the wind blow in your hair, crank up the volume, and whisk yourself away with some new jams. It’s time to ride like the wind.
Thanks to everyone who participated in last week’s poetry prompt. Here is a poem from Richard we enjoyed:
The shine was lopsome and hepsolee,
when dared strolled fair Rasannia
within the bost of Wimpersee,
where sythen wrot the freckful Snee.
Rasannia, Rasannia the sible ron—Hyyah!
Both fittle lok and briggen lok ner a’gwonoc, no ne.
The Snee is rample, rample so be quix a lok a la
and ner gwanoc the ron belon or ner a lok be ra.
Rasannia the Snee and thee we crix both ron and ray.
Monther and our Purrah teaper well the di and do,
tep ne, tep ne in ron or ray gwonoc to Wimpersee, asoo
there fittle lok and briggen lok may ner retoyatoo.
POETRY PROMPT: Write a poem about the movement of wind. Allow your words to flow as if it were caught up in the swirls and motion of the current.
Photo by Pai Shih. Creative Commons license via Flickr. Post by Heather Eure.
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Sometimes we feature your poems in Every Day Poems, with your permission of course. Thanks for writing with us!
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Heather Eure
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richard maxson says
Moonlight Sonata
Countess Giulietta, for you the gentle
ruminations came in simple chords,
that rose and rose again in questions.
You and he in midnight air, wordlessly,
secretly, arm in arm, he in stride
and you reticent, corset and train.
Did Rellstab name it from a vision
in Lucerne? Or was Quasi Una Fantasia
for you, the love and dream.
What garden, walked in moonlight?
What visions came so hauntingly, silently,
beautifully, like the quiet wings of night birds
that nested in the strings, the grain of wood
that felt his ear against its subtle breathing,
when they sang of black fleeing into black.
His lamentation turned to prayer, lifting
to the night sky, descending to despair,
again demanding the air deliver its motion.
Giulietta, he did return to your measured step,
in its darkest paces, resolved that Schiller’s Joy,
astounding heaven, remained bound within him,
bound in silence, but for the unbearable sound of faces.
Donna Saliba says
Beautifully written! Wish I could craft words in the way you do!
Glynn says
A shape defined
A shape defined
by the contours
of what resists it,
what it resists.
Unseen, it smooths
and roughens
in simultaneous swirls,
depending upon its mood.
Wraps itself before
dissipating, disappearing,
its shape defined
by absence, loss
before arrival.
Richard Maxson says
Glynn, I love the way this poem behaves like its subject matter, defining and evading simultaneously. One of my favorites by you.
gassingon says
The air didn’t care about the wind
or its breath
not very fair
I hear you say
in your slightly haughty way
to be so uncaring
not unkind
or cruel
for not sharing,
just playing by the rules
after all
the wind will blow
your way again
and mine
so we at least, in time
may have another chance
to make the wind and air
and breath
in time,
be yours and mine.
Chad Wilson says
I decided to take a stab at this prompt in a style of poetry that I have had a hard time coming to grips with: the villanelle.
The Wind
by Chad Wilson
(a Villanelle style poem)
as the wind travels across the plain
across vast distance
unimpeded by time’s constrain
charging forth like a train
speeding forward in an instance
as the wind travels across the plain
an unrelenting campaign
an unstoppable dance
unimpeded by time’s constrain
only mountains can refrain
thrusting like a lance
as the wind travels across the plain
it brings in the rain
feeding nature’s plants
unimpeded by time’s constrain
though it may at times wane
forever the wind chants
as the wind travels across the plain
unimpeded by time’s constrain
Copyright © 2015 Chad Wilson
Donna Saliba says
I’d say you did a wonderful job with this style of poetry. I love to write poems in styles that I find difficult to improve my skills.
Maureen Doallas says
In the city this spring
rain falls like gold
icing the sidewalk
cracks fill with leaves
of jasmine tea drained
through a sieve of clouds
swept suddenly away
wind brings its chaos
of souvenirs: scents
of citrus and hyacinth
— sky jacket and china
pink — the show-
stopping ballerina
tulip and star-shaped
lilac spicy sweet, plum
honeying the clustered
buds as the fountain
of glistening tuberose
dares the four-petaled
mock orange to slip out
beneath sun, find shade
before the stars break
our concentration
we linger on a breath
taste how air’s gone
thick this Hawaiian night
Richard Maxson says
Rich and delicious description. What a magical scene!
michelle ortega says
I’m ready to buy my ticket. Your scene is so alive I inhale the fragrance as I am reading.
Melissa says
What we share when we
blow the air that’s touched all parts
of our insides, breathe.
Bethany R. says
“that’s touched all parts/ of our insides”
Melissa, this is lovely.
Richard Maxson says
What a wonderful thought that the air we breath is part of each of us.
Donna Z Falcone says
he comes ushering
hurricane force pretending
to be just a breeze
Donna Z Falcone says
Make that “forces” 😉 Plural
After rereading the haiku infographic I decided to allow myself the extra syllable….. although I’m going to keep teasing this one.
Donna Saliba says
I like haiku poetry but rarely come up with one that I think really hits the mark. This is great!
Donna says
Thank you, Donna 🙂
Donna Z Falcone says
Donna, wondering if you would enjoy the Haiku infographic, or some of the others. Here is the link to the infographics here and Haiku is maybe 7th down on the list https://www.tweetspeakpoetry.com/category/infographics/
🙂
michelle ortega says
Thanks for posting this link, Donna. Between you and Darlene, I have been inspired to give the haiku a chance. Loved the trickery of your wind 😉
Robbie Pruitt says
Wind, Come In
Swirling whispers of wind
Breathe like bellows
Pushing against the skin
Changing direction
And coming back once again
Whispering, “Can I come in?”
© March 4, 2015, Robbie Pruitt
Donna Saliba says
Great poem and I love the second and last lines!
Robbie Pruitt says
Thank you very much Donna!
I like that you posted your poem here and have enjoyed reading it.
michelle ortega says
love the invitation 🙂
Robbie Pruitt says
Thank you Michelle!
Donna Saliba says
The first poem I wrote was for my English class in 9th grade:
Leaf
Leaf,
Golden as a wheat field;
Fluttering through crisp air of autumn.
Nowhere to travel,
Just anywhere.
The sun shown beyond the dancing leaves;
Beautiful ballerinas in a fall ballet.
Maneuvering all obstacles
That may endanger a mere little leaf.
A dim saddened pond
Without a disturbance in sight
Becoming cheerful as it finds a friend.
The crumbly leaf awaits an invitation,
Together a happy team.
A cool breeze
Creates a slight ripple
Which scurries
Quickly to the edge of the water.
After an extravagant reunion,
The leaf slides off the smooth water
To dry on welcoming earth.
The cool wind of darkness
Relieves the leaf’s only friend-
Loneliness.
Mother Nature sends high winds
Which awaken wildlife and plants
From their needed beauty sleep.
They now are all together,
Protecting, loving, supporting each other,
Because all are united under one sky.
Donna A. Dissauer
Copyright 2003
As Published in A Young Woman’s Thoughts
Donna Z Falcone says
Beautiful ballerina’s! I love that image… and the extravagent reunion is so unique a perspective! So cool….
Really fun to read this, Donna… your first! Thank you for sharing it with us here. How special to still have your very first poem! 🙂
michelle ortega says
ruach
unseen creator
of unearthly vibrations
rouses souls who sleep
Robbie Pruitt says
Love the Hebrew reference! I really like that last line: “rouses souls who sleep”. I also appreciate the simplicity and the profundity . . .
michelle ortega says
Thank you! Glad to meet up with you here. 🙂