Posted in Photos, Poetry

Scarborough Fair My Garden Lair

Photos by Jilly

Parsley
O!  Joyous balm with thy sweet girlish fluttering ways
Tumm-aliscious, halitosis forgiveness, rabbitity garden-raiding antidote
French lace tingle on my tongue, fill my rose-alie nose with airy tang.

Sage
My mushroomy corduroy leafed friend all sausage-y,
Turkey thanksgivingful, inviting all earthyfairies with thy emanating savor-flavor.

Rosemary

Sticky-pine woodsy, he accosts and clings, persistently nocturnal
Permeates with essence of maleness.

Thyme
Lemon wafts, rolls past, wraps around
My ankles with tendrils and tiny leaves you wanting more
Pulls you in, pours
Your tea, “Have a scone! Talk with me!”

© Jilly’s 2016

You are cordially invited to a smell-a-vistic experience at dVerse Poet’s Pub!

Posted in Poetry

What does Fear Smell like to a Dog of War?

A couple of days ago, while perusing my BBC app for world news, 
a story by Jeremy Bowen held the intriguing title quote, 
‘You can smell war here.’ 
What a coincidence that our Poetics prompt, 
compliments of our bartender, Grace,
is to write about scent and smell.  
It gives me a wonderful opportunity to 
explore that quote.  

What does Fear
Smell like to
A Dog of
War?

Of Acrid
Burnt Butter
Too long in
The fry pan?

Sweat and Tears
Broken Yolk
Yellowing
Burnt Toast Crumbs
Singed Smoke Black?

Or Reek Red
Blood Orange
Juiced, Squeezed to
Pith, Seeds, Pulp?

© Jilly’s 2016

Posted in Photos, Poetry

Rhapsody

Waning gibbous dance us toward that newest

Night of birth and rebirth budding

Bursting out from expiration

Skyward vine twirling

With the night bugs

Reaching

Grasping

Inhale the sun that rose

Into thy lungs unfurl each phase

And chapter write with blossom of delight

© Jilly’s 2016

Writing Rose Quadrilles at dVerse.  Join us!

IMG_0854
© Photos by Jilly
Posted in Photos, Poetry

Greatest Show on the Road

brake lights ahead
too fast truck
clambers up the trunk
airborne tires clawing at the sky
screaming, agonizing, a twisting cat of nine lives
grass, weeds, bits of a tree sticking
out of the chrome and trim
landing on its feet again
cars drive on
© Jilly's 2016


Drove over to Sarasota yesterday to revel in 
the Ringling Museum of Art.
David gladly posed.
The drive home was the REAL exhibit.
Watched with horror from the other lane.
Stayed close to home today for obvious reasons.
Posted in Poetry

A Litter ation

Crumpled, cigarette cellophane
brown broken beer bottles
gobs of green-apple gum
sticky, stretching from the soles  of my sepia shoes.

Rotting, roadside wreckage
busted, bunched-up debris
blown on the breeze.
Fetid foam of flotsam floating.

Left-behind lunch of
flabby, floppy fries
soda straw straggler
and half-eaten hamburger
dank deterioration dumped in a ditch.

Posted papers pinned to a pole
weathered and washed out words
of garish garage-sale goodies
now gone.

Mustard marshmallow maggots
hatching, hungry; hunting.

The gradual gathering gloom
is a blistering blight upon
the beauty we behold.

© Jilly’s 2016

Image: Putting a Face on Litter

 

Tonight is Open Link Night over at the dVerse Poet’s Pub. I am focusing on sound devices lately 🙂

Posted in Photos, Poetry

And Dangerous as the Human Heart

“…in the black changing sound
 of night, the enormous Florida night,
 metallic with cicadas, musical
 and dangerous as the human heart.”

Lynda Hull
 from Insect Life of Florida
 


The highways swish and buzz
hot tires like a one-night-stand
speak dirty to the asphalt
together they cry in an ecstasy of anger
using, being used, knowing this
yet, embracing the night
igniting desire, one
for distance, miles to go before
sleeping
rocking to the clicking of cooling
engines
the other, living only through
those that pass over
used up and forgotten on this
night that
beats
beats
beats

© Jilly’s 2016

Join us over at dVerse, where Walt is tending bar on this the first day of summer! 

Posted in Poetry

A Brief History of Silly Jilly

At four years old
Bow wow, meow
My nursery
With colors bold
Rhymes to be told
Committed there
To memory
At four years old

In kindie gard
My daddy fair
Produced a game
And with a dare
By rote I learned
St Nicholas
His journey told
To one and all
And to this day
Will give display

In days of old
Fourth grade, I’m told
A bird came down
The walk one day
A book of rhyme
Under her wing
With flies that buzz
A lilting thing
For death was not
Reality
There was no fear
At nine years old

Forgiveness from
Mine Emily
Am conquered by
A Carroll free
The Jabberwock
Hast come for me
It claims my tongue
For to proclaim
And takes its place
Within this brain
Beside the rhymes
Beneath the tree
With sugar plums
To dance with me

A gleam have I
For any near
To grab a floor
To have a hear
For meter holds
Mine own dear ear
A spell is cast
Upon my lines
Gives birth to mine
Own nursery rhymes!

© Jilly’s 2016

With a nod to Mother Goose for the photo!

We are creating mood with meter over at dVerse 
(Be still my little beating metered heart!)
Come join us there, a poem to share!
 Oh no! A monster here has been unleashed!
Posted in Photos, Poetry

O Town

Red buses
Line up
Students
Locals
Line up
Roll up
Flex pump up
Angry to spill
For what was
Spilled
Blood
Defies us
Denies us
Unites us
Cleanses us
Cures us
Defines us
To the rest of the world
Would rather be
Walt’s world

© Jilly’s 2016

Join us at dVerse; bring your 44 words!

 

Posted in Photos

Musings on What Helps My Writing Process

  1. 1. Let the Crazy Child Write by Clive Matson
It’s terribly beatnik in style and gives me permission… 
for whatever I write and however I write
  1. 2. How to Read Literature Like a Professor by Thomas Foster
Analyzing how the great’s do it helps me limp into that realm 
of being an intentional writer
  1. 3. Setting aside writing times and places
One example, Sunday morning at the market, 
coffee, same breakfast, same chair. 
This hour or two belong to me.
  1. 4. Doing it my way (sing it, Frank!)
There are all kinds of edicts out there 
– X # of words per day, etc.
I have a career that I love and that provides a paycheck, 
so I’m not writing for the money.  
That means I am the boss over this gig!
  1. 5. Wearing high heels
What?  It makes me feel good and that confidence 
translates into my writing.
  1. 6. Married my writing partner
This actually tops the list. We encourage each other, 
bounce ideas, offer suggestions, play editor, make coffee, 
whatever it takes to keep us both in the words.
  1. 7. Read other writers
I avoid reading too much of things that are similar in 
style and genre to my own writing because it keeps me from 
the toxicity of comparisons.  
There are always those who are better at the craft 
and that can lead to despair.  
Likewise, there are those who have underdeveloped 
writing talents and that gives birth to ego.  
I read and adore the greats of lit -
keeps me in the language of great writing.  
And, of course, I read for the pure joy of story.

What do YOU do to boost YOUR personal writing process?
Please, please, do share!