Sandhill Cranes, mother and child. Photos by Jilly ©
Wordlessly Wednesdaying
Month: June 2016
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!
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
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!
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.
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 🙂
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!
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!
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!
Musings on What Helps My Writing Process
-
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
-
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
-
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.
-
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!
-
5. Wearing high heels
What? It makes me feel good and that confidence translates into my writing.
-
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.
-
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!
Jilly's 