Plain Speak?

When one employs verse with its vividities, though it speaks with particular clarity, is it plain? Ah, and is the clarity only a surface seeming with oceans beneath?

These tidbits for your appetite…

The tall tired trees trail
Tails of golden gilded leaves
On chilled coffee morns
While wholesome whimsical loves
Share songs sang subtly soft.

*****

No one told the dove
To cry, nor made her fly by,
But mourning brought her.

*****

Leave your wide window
For the world has more to give
Than vision through glass.

*****

Can we just forget
Such necessities as need
Once made us believe?

*****

If I could, I would
Divorce pain, but it remains,
Losing love leaves stains.

*****

Forbid you might see
The lake of sad darkness here;
Scented roses, Spring.

*****

When I am dead/gone
I shall sleep enough to please
Those I now disturb.
Until then, please allow me;
Simple curiosity.

*****

Exile, I outlaw
You use it, when we belong,
But powerless to curtail
You because of we two there
Is no doubt you are stronger.

*****

I cast a carpet,
Lovely woven silken threads,
Because your comfort
Was my complete intention,
Ordure you wiped upon it.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

As a prompt, try some haiku or tanka. They are small forms but can say much and invoke beauty or emotion. Also, both are excellent warm-ups for more strenuous writing.

I hope your week has been comfortable and that life has brought you more pleasantry than pain. Thank you for visiting Haphazard Creative. If you like, follow the site, or come again as time allows. May blessings find you wherever you venture, and you know the love of God with you.

 

Small Pleasures

Last weekend my mentor arranged a few hours away from his overwork, and we went shopping. This was partly because his schedule prevented our spending time on my birthday, which would not have worked for me either. I copy edited that day.

We went to Dollar Tree, and I fell for the store—everything a dollar, yes, my precious. Now, honestly, this entered my certification as a “personal money trap” to be avoided by me.

He told me to look around, and he went to get specific things. This was not a good place to turn me loose, no.

Anyway, among the things I got, the miniature organizer above. I lived with all my finds a couple of days without unpacking them. Then I took a selection of pens and put them in the organizer. The second day of looking at it unembellished, I got stickers and changed its personality.

It is so sweet that he got those few goodies for me. It does not take a lot to make me happy, a trip to a Dollar Tree with one of my favorite people.

I bet some of you know what I mean.

As a prompt, tell about a small thing that made you feel on top of the world.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

Literary Games

I became a reader and writer simultaneously at age three. I quickly began to employ color and text and illustration together. I found in poetry a heart like unto my own and have written it continuously. I guess my hope to be a publisher was born on my mother’s knees or perhaps in the floorboard of the Buick with the dash lighting shining down on my pages.

The dreams persist.

Reading is my favorite form of entertainment, with my rarely watching television. I usually steer away from series, but I have been drawn into a few lately. The idea is commendable, but the execution leaves much to be desired. I am one who becomes immersed in a book or books. It is most disappointing to be prepared for the continuation of a tale and find that it will be a year before you can learn the rest of the story. Not an easy acceptance for a poet who must complete a whole composition in the space of a page or a bit more.

Sometimes I will circumvent the imposition by waiting until all the volumes are complete to read them, but with current works, that is hardly possible. I lately did this with Tolkien’s masterpieces again. Someday I will open the shrink-wrap and dive into Stephen King’s Dark Tower series, I suppose. I begin to wonder about it because I have had those books over a decade. There is also The Game of Thrones, which I have in series and read two volumes from the library, but have yet to break the shrink-wrap on the collector’s edition.

Bibliophiles can be characters. My family tries to encourage me to dispense with some of my literary collection, and I blatantly refuse. I find my books are comforting, and the possibilities they contain, make me feel life is still an adventure. The missives from other minds are great consolation when the world becomes difficult.

I should think with fifty-four years at the vocation, I would have some idea of how to relate to readers, but I often wonder that others must be so unlike myself. Even so, I continue. I write every day and read a wide variety. I have thought l should make some provision to get out into the world and find some worthy subjects for photographic composition. I tend to be dull and remain close to home, which may not be the worst thing with a worldwide pandemic. My dogs and I are company and family.

The Vine Witch and The Glamourist by Luanne G. Smith have me wishing The Conjurer was not to be released next year. The Library of the Unwritten by A. J. Hackwith is another I am considering following up.

I wonder, those of you who are readers, what do you like? Are you a series person? Writers, have you been at the craft for years, or are you new with beginner mind?

World symmetry
Captured in quaint syllables,
An eagle on wing.

***************

Sheltering in place
The world no more freedom’s space,
Dreams are not contained.

***************

I see you, a smile,
Broad as day, deeper than night,
Come join in delight.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

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.

 

 

Dystopia

I have this feeling
Creeping up from my cold feet
I am staring back

Creases on my brow
Keep growing with dull repeat
Of the news, I hear,
There is a revolution
I am caught in it, the retorts.

People falling down,
I will go without any
Pressure, lightly push.

Ice rink roundabout
Skates slipping on fuming tears
Not frozen, hot blood,
Lust, love, what is answering
The donkey or howling mutt?

The limelight can burn,
Like a flambeau set too close
Taking down the tent.

Nothing matters here,
Except I never ignore
Love is the reason;
Gunshots are just a symptom,
Of the virus, the malaise.

Love paints the portrait,
Rebels cut it down, rubbish,
The ashcan again.

Who I am, you are,
No invoice, no guarantee,
Ticket, play the game,
Sometimes it all runs aground,
No one tastes Heaven, a loss.

Still, racers will chase
Heavy lathered off the track
No turn, going back.

Every day a death
The dream left alone, uncaught,
Walking in deep snow
Left hanging over water,
Because one end is not enough.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

I found a Playlist that seemed to move me in a sorta way. Lots of Bowie in it, and he always turns my brain.

Maybe I will come back with something sweet. I hope you are well. If you like it here at Haphazard Creative, consider following the site, or returning as you will.

As a prompt, set up some music you seldom listen to, maybe from an earlier period, then let it lead you wherever you are taken. Create something.

2020.07.08 Stairs rr