Tweetspeak Poetry

Poetry Prompt: Wind, What’s Your Name?

By 33 Comments

Austru is the cold winter wind from the east and calls Romania home. Zephyros, is the Greek god and gentle wash of spring air who visits from the west. Many cultures have crafted thoughtful names for every bluster, gust, and breeze that blows through the world. Peruse this list of names and see how many you know.

Thanks to everyone who participated in last week’s poetry prompt. Here is a poem from Richard we enjoyed:

It is not enough to leave the ground.
You know this—what you imagine is real—

the dark fish leaps, armor softens
into flight: yet, the sea pools in a raven’s wing,

the bent world turns impossibly: look
even the angels are drawn to its cage,

slights of hand, tricks of light, it’s not enough
merely to fly—

listen: in the frail air
above the earth, where all cries are whispers,

the falcon, feathered hyphen, rises,
vanishes in the illusion of morning blue.

Ask yourself, what is this, if neither wing nor eye.

—by Richard Maxson

POETRY PROMPT: Write a poem about a particular type of wind. What does it do? What kind of personality? Does it have a gender? Think of a clever name for the wind or choose something tried-and-true.

Photo by Cheryl. 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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Comments

  1. Donna Z Falcone says

    You are the wind no one can see.
    The cleansing breath that flows in me.

    The steady, soft enduring light,
    Enduring through the darkest night.

    You are the wind no one can see.
    Sweet breath of life. My breath. Sheri.

    (In Israeli, the name Shiri means- song of my soul. Other origins for the name Shiri include – Israeli, Hebrew. The name Shiri is most often used as a girl name or female name.

    Read more:http://www.meaning-of-names.com/israeli-names/shiri.asp#ixzz3VDBTgRNx)

    Reply

  4. Richard Maxson says

    Night Wind

    I looked for you in the wind; I thought I heard your breath
    against my ear, rising and falling. I thought I felt your
    fingers in my hair, pushing it back. And like opened doors,
    I saw the leaves go silver as they turned, and beyond
    each one revealed a universe of midnight starry skies,
    opening and closing at your touch. Was it the wind or more
    at work? I looked for you behind each one. Was it you or
    my heart’s desire to see the stars as your bright eyes.

    I reached for you in the air, but the warmth was the night,
    it slipped from my arms without a trace, and I turned
    to follow you, thinking I saw your face, but it was moonlight.
    I listened everywhere and every sound I ever learned
    I heard, and felt again your breath—I thought I heard you sigh.
    I looked for you in the wind. Was it you I felt pass by?

    Reply

  8. Monica Sharman says

    Trade Winds

    Defined by where they came from, the direction
    of their influence.
    Named for the commerce sailors counted on,
    goods in wooden ships.
    Driving paddle board and snorkel
    out when sun is low
    before heat and pressure move them
    through heady-scented petals of plumeria
    and ti-leaf skirts of kahiko dancers, hands
    waving like the surf, and like the wind,
    moving.

    Reply

  9. Elizabeth W. Marshall says

    Richard, this is a favorite poem of mine, of yours. 🙂 🙂 There is something about it that knocks me in the gut, in a good way. You craft such powerful poems. Amazing, this one. Strong imagery that plays in my mind so concretely.

    Interesting, though it “sounds” like you, something about it rings of newness in your writing.

    I am a fan.

    Reply

  10. Elizabeth Marshall says

    Light To Varable

    She left faint impression of her presence, bringing neither hail nor thundercracks upon her tepid arrival.Those who seek will see, her footprints like a hologram upon the jetstream’s flip side. Her’s, a current marked by wax and wane. No windmills spinning wildly from her force. No weathervane flying clockwise then quickly counter. The seed and feather, bird and Monarch bow in gratitude. She will take the kite heavenward and lift a bubble whole. And leave the world in tact. Gentleness her strength. Her lack of power her greatest force. The meek will inherit the Earth. No mountains moved.

    Reply

  11. Elizabeth Marshall says

    AURA

    You were still a stranger
    Not yet fully here
    neither known nor seen
    by the break of day
    You’d been hypnotized by ebony hand of night,

    Later you will rise and meet the early cracks of light,
    Join me as I blow the dewdrops, rolling like marbles down the footpath
    meet me at the cusp of still new-day

    I will softly kiss your cheek
    raise the tree limbs, make them dance
    And we will count the fading stars and falling crescent moon
    watch as fireflies

    turn their tail-lights off
    and go in search of sleep
    close your eyes
    so I may kiss your neck’s nape
    with my cool breath
    and wake the day with Hope

    (In Greek mythology, Aura was goddess of the breeze and fresh cool air of the early morning)

    Reply

  12. Natalie Salminen says

    Cemetery spring
    Spilling bouquets hide your name
    Wind-blown and weeping

    How I love Tweetspeak! I’ve been practicing because of you 😉 and often adding haikus to my photos on Instagram (instagram.com/tuliptea). The invitation and ever-hospitable prompts from you all have nudged me closer to my poetic self. So grateful!

    Reply

    • Donna Z Falcone says

      Natalie, so wonderful that you are here and sharing your words.

      This haiku is moving – makes me feel a sad, forgotten sort of feeling… I really love the image of wind-blown and weeping…

      Reply

    • Elizabeth Marshall says

      Natalie, so lovely to have you and your poetry here.
      Oh do come back again and again. If you’d like, share your Instagram so we might read your haiku.
      So pleased you found your way here.

      Warmly,
      elizabeth

      Reply

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