Poetry in Song

Some of my very favorite poetry is found in the songs people write. Songs tell stories of love and rejection. Some write about objects like trains or jet planes. Simon and Garfunkle wrote about the city of New York in Sound of Silence. On of my favorites is a song by Steve Goodman about a train they called the City of New Orleans.  The mix of  images and metaphors is wonderful, down to earth, and unforgettable. The music is just the icing on the cake!

Poems, and Prayers, and Promises blend with melodies and harmonies transporting us to other places and times with unforgettable lyrics. They share life as it really is as they connect to more than one part of the brain. Some of the greatest poets of our time are singer songwriters. Their songs can take us to locations and situations we have not visited in fifty years. Although many over the years considered country music repetitive and uncouth,  Merle Haggard was considered the Poet of the Common Man.  Perhaps the critics should take a second look… or listen and enjoy this train ride with Steve Goodman on the City of New Orleans. This is Americana and poetry at its best!

Poems and melody

Connecting words with the heart

Spring poetry sings

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Song clip from You Tube

Posted on d’Verse poets open link night…. https://dversepoets.com

Waiting

It may seem the waiting is is driving us bonkers.  We are asked to stay at home and not gather with our friends or extended family.  But, instead of feeling trapped, find freedom in what’s going on all around. Spring  is bursting forth in all its glory. It doesn’t wait for any virus. Count your blessings, open your eyes, and know this too shall pass.

Sometimes we must wait

For this endless train to pass

Enjoy Spring beauty

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Travel With Me up the Rhine

“Blessed are the hearts that can bend; they shall never be broken.”  Albert Camus

Our first trip abroad riding up the Rhine River

Fifty years together required something special

Amsterdam to Basel in eight days

A Viking River Cruise

An afternoon of delightful cruising

Riding on the canopied top deck

Staying out of the sun on a very hot day

Floating by vineyards

planted up and down the hills

Past magnificent old castles and churches

perched high up on the bluffs

Quaint little towns along the river bank

with names I could not pronounce

People on Sunday outings swimming

in the cool water along with

cattle standing up to their knees

What an amazing ride it was

No thought of social distancing required

So glad it was last summer instead of this one.

*****

Photos: Dwight L. Roth

Today at d’Verse Lillian suggested that since we were not able to go traveling because of the Covid-19 pandemic, that we write a poem that takes every one along with us on a trip we have taken in the past. Last year we celebrated our 50th Wedding Anniversary with River Cruise up the Rhine. It was wonderful. Here is just a tiny bit of what we experienced.

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Masters

Masters

Today at d’Verse, Frank Tassone offered to us two master poets. One was William Shakespear who was a prolific English poet and play-write. The second was the most revered Japanese poet Matsuo Bashō (松尾 芭蕉, 1644–1694), who introduced hokku which later became haiku poetry. Both men changed the world with their words. This is the goal of all of us who write. Our hope is that our words will shed light on the truth of the world around us in a way that has both present and lasting affect.

I write poems on my

journey with teacher Bashō

New beans sprouts today

*****

Such different poets

Shakespear and Bashō

Both pushing flowers

**

Bashō visits Shakespear’s stage

So many words are spoken

**

“All’s well that ends well”

What more needs to be spoken

Clear as fresh spring air

**

Lost in endless lines of verse

Shakespear’s never ending voice

**

Bashō speaks more with

less, like a set c-4 charge

Spring explodes

*****

I wrote my Haibun above, then added a few non-conformed haikai ranga verses following that give comparison of the two from Bashō’s perspective.

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Photos from d’Verse…

Truth Telling

 Art is often unappreciated till the artist is long dead.

By then a new generation who reads and hears

or looks and sees values the beauty others missed.

 

Artists paint and poets write their understanding of truth

in hopes that it will resonate with another soul.

Words bring light in a dark night of disillusionment.

 

Truth is often ignored, denied, or rejected

So we wrap it in enticing words that draw you in

then lay it out with arrows that gently pierce your soul;

Hoping that a few will stick long enough to make a difference.

~Dwight L. Roth`

 Painting : Dwight L. Roth

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This sums up why we write and create art…

“Posterity may even, will likely even, forget us entirely. And yet, we are writing. And we are, for the purposes of this discussion at least, thinking about writing something of immediate force that might remain relevant to the future.” ~ Czeslaw Milosz

Quote taken from: the Poetry Foundation

ESSAY

Tell It Slant

How to write a wise poem.

BY CAMILLE T. DUNGY

Shades of Red

Deep folds of silk

Cascading atop long stems

Spring snowflakes in red

Photos: Dwight L. Roth

My Geranium

 

Hungry Bird

I had a visit today from an Eastern Blue Grosbeak. He comes to my feeder a few times a year. I am not sure if they are migrating or just tend to stay away. I always like seeing their gorgeous striking colors. This bird was hungry. He hopped right into the cage and ate for five minutes. I thought he would fly away when I got closer to get these photos, but he kept right on eating. It was wonderful to see him again.

Blue grosbeak stopped by

Eating his fill of my seeds

Springtime all around

iPhone Photos: Dwight L. Roth

Found Poetry

Today we were asked to write poetry from our book shelf. Bjorn, at d’Verse, called it found poetry. The challenge is to arrange and make a poem using book titles from our shelf, without changing any titles. I thought these were a very fitting group for the times we are experiencing. See what you think?

Found Poetry

Violence

Money, Sex, and Power

The Brilliant Idiot

Dialogue with death

**

The pilgrim’s progress

The Shack

The light on the hill

What’s so amazing about grace

Streams of living water

Sit, Walk, Stand…

***

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

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Keeping Busy in Isolation

Since the weather has warmed up I have been out in my garage painting again. The 42 x 42 inch painting above was given to my neighbor. They asked me to paint a large sunflower for their daughter. That is the last painting which I worked on today. I still a have some work to do on the seed part of the sunflower.  The middle photos are a painting I did on my old Washburn Guitar. It has had significant damage with a hole patched in the body and a head that got snapped and glued back together. Amazingly, it still holds tuning and plays very well. I am a fan of old steam trains as you can see.

Painting // passing time

Waiting for Summer release

Ready for a hug

Paintings: Dwight L. Roth

I finished the Sunflower today…

Our Dear Cat Tiger

Some of you may have already read this when I posted this a year or so ago.  Today we are to write about our pets at d’Verse. This is the best poem I have about our cat named Tiger, who lived with us for 15 years.

Tiger Cat

The runt of the litter a striped gray and black

A cute little kitten to take along back

Playful and funny he sure entertained us

It wasn’t long till Tiger made a big fuss

Bigger and stronger he raced through the house

Upstairs and downstairs chasing imaginary mouse

Not in the morning, not in the evening, but at 10:00 at night

Waiting at the rail giving me a big fright

Neurotic and nervous he licked and coughed

Oh, no! Oh Shoot! He’s up on the loft

Creating giant hairballs so yukky and soft

But Ruth didn’t hesitate she picked him right up

Grabbing him quickly she must interrupt

Off to the laundry to cough on the paper

Hoping to get there to end this bad caper

An independent soul he was always so moody

I’ll come to you when I am good and ready

Saying, “Don’t pick me up unless I tell you!”

Any other time I’ll scat and you’ll be blue

Engines purring he climbs up in my lap

Settling down for his short cat nap

I’ll sleep, he’ll sleep and then he’s gone

While I am still snoring as I sleep on

He’ll be roaming the house while he’s all alone

He thought he was sneaky but we knew better

Our bed was a no no and he was a fretter

Climbing on our bed while we were away

That warm spot that indent we knew where he lay

It’s me for a nap but it’s Ruth who he loves

The feeling is mutual as she gives him soft rubs

Sometimes I am jealous of this moody feline

Especially when he cuts in and takes up my time

Tiger came first on many occasions

Knowing he was the king our special obsession

For sixteen years he watched out the window

Then ran to the door as we said hello

We were grieved when he left us it was time to move on

But we loved him dearly and are sad that he’s gone.

***

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

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