The Whisper That Shouts

When language preaches
A soul-rending sermon, soft,
Or words get dressed up
To woo and seduce another,
When voices sing of beauty
Or rhyme appears clear
To paint syllables of the sky,
When cursing seems well
Placed, aptly, and fairly done.
Poignant protests raise applause
Revealing there exist, heroes,
Needing appropriate speeches,
Or a tearfully sad story
To be honored and well-told,
When the crowds pay tribute
To those who amaze, astound.
If one jettisons planetary bonds
The left behind, raw, broken wide open
Recite laments to tidy seeping wounds,
When a newborn enterprise
Is begun with much courage and hope,
Or plain and simple
Cries must be made for progress,
If people who feel life
Differently must be given a voice.
Ordinary words cannot address
Every occasion pregnant with love
Or fraught with the lace of fear, doubt,
But call for the gift of poetry,
The whisper that shouts.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

2020.07.08 Converted Rose rr

As a prompt, exploring the meaning or purpose or love of poetry. Should you rather, explore whatever forms of creative expression you most enjoy.




2020.06.22 Road Away edit

The grip astounding
An infant’s tiny fingers
Grasping loving hands
A toddler will not be lost
Becoming independent
As school days slip by
A graduate holding tight
The papers of passage shown
Successful for leaving home
The world spending spins
Hands gripped close tight
A wedding holding delight
Relative some grow gray
Faint furrowed hands slip
Like dust through fingers
Unable to end the lapse
Tears soaking faces, for the years
Suddenly gone away in the fray;
Time fleeting as tender smiles
Leave all in shadows by and by.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan


A Thing, Well A Few

Prompted Positive Poetry’s Prompt #61 was “Fishnet.” I went off in a strange direction and did some derivations on a photo.

2020.06.09 Clockworks edited changed

This is not the poem I lost; I liked it better. I am toying with thoughts of which I cannot be the host. Catch release is all the rage to my overactive mind. Not sure I like the electric blue either, but black looked all wrong.

This following is out of the very verbose journaling. Those are two conjoined Tanka.


This existence is
Riddled with holes, the who, what,
How, why, that I am –
Knowing it is not enough
Normal for others to want.
Me, just wishing to
Belong somewhere with someone,
Who fully loves me
Though I am strange within – out,
Who would reassure my doubts.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

I have a free trial of Spotify Premium. I love the Deep Focus channel, the one simply titled, Sleep, and oh, Music for Reading. Of course, The Rolling Stones and Queen get playtime as well.

I wonder if I should catch you up on my reading. I have not done that in a while, and there are some titles you might like.


Deadline Cometh

I tell you whence is this attitude
You see as rude, a toe step, too;
This day not hours, happily to spend
But hurry up, begin, check twice, again,
The piece, the price, the make right, toward end
Must complete, to compete, or will not funding win
For sure, it is known, “Deadline Cometh.”

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Just a quick dance with words on the go.


At times we are gardens
Lush with growth, sweet in aroma,
Left untended ourselves alone
Wild as nighttime, bright as day,
Hoping for cultivation under skilled hands.
At times we are roses
Growing scarlet, crimson, upon our bush
Bleeding on the breeze, a scent,
That calls loving embrace to mind
Becoming wholly pleasures given ample time.
At times we are treasured memories
Fair hauntings in the gardeners’ thoughts
Calling from peaceful respite those
Who to our needs shall eager minister
That our joys, lives may continue without end.
Gardens, roses, memories,
So easily forgotten, neglected, set aside,
But time bears us all, every single one,
Carries hopes, dreams, fulfillment,
Crossing plentiful paths for realization.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

As a prompt: Do you know who you are, who we are? Consider this, illustrate your ideas in some creative way. Sometimes what we see is not. Enjoy!

2020.06.09 3D Senoia edited