Meaning in the Meaningless

Old in age, I am young at heart

Seeing my way through an uncharted maze

I look for light in the winter dark of night

Racing slowly toward the finish line

*

Days creep by, as redundant weeks roll on

Attempting to find meaning in the meaningless

Believing in that unbelievable Spirit of all Creation

Experiencing grace and comfort in not knowing

*

In this winter of freezing joints and pushing buds

I defy the waiting cold earth with warm sunshine

I write my simple poems from inspired words unknown

As night closes in, each new day dawns

I am the bud and the blossom, I am the late-falling leaf” – from The Paradox by Paul Dunbar

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Today at d’Verse, Laura asked us to consider writing from the perspective of paradox. She gave us some lines from different poems to choose from for inspiration. I chose the one from Paul Dunbar’s, The Paradox.

Join us at: https://dversepoets.com then click Mr. Linkey to read more.

Poetry Frozen in Time

Thoughts captured / frozen / sparkling moments in time

Held in place by negative Fahrenheit and Centigrade

Poetry captured trickling from the bowl of inspiration

For one brief moment it lies frozen / waiting for ink

But, inspiration lasts only till the next shining moment

The constant ebb and flow of life soon carries it away

The warm sun’s UV rays melt our trickles of frozen thought

And what momentarily embeds in our minds

Turns to liquid / a poetic flow of beauty and inspiration

Written on digital parchment, napkin, or diary

Reflected in sun’s rainbow of thought flowing from the bow

********

Photo; Laura Ziegler

Footprints

Today was a beautiful day for a walk around the park. As I was walking, I looked down and was captivated by the prints on the pavement. Leaf prints and, in the mix, a few dog prints as well. What an interesting canvas for art prints!

Leaves and Puppy Dogs

Stamp footprints on the pathway

Rain soon washes both

iPhone Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Life is a Poem

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Life is a Poem
Everything in life is a poem waiting to be written.
Most do not hear the poets call or feel the inspiration
But for those who look and listen there is music ;
poems to be written // deep emotions to be felt
that can only be expressed in words.

 

Those who pause // make life stand still
and open their soul …
They understand it loud and clear.
as words resonate // echoing through the mind

 

Poets are like pleasant speed bumps
that slow you down and make you listen;
Sometimes giving you a big jolt
When you least expect it.

 

Poets are fearless prophets // writing of love and hate
Politics and Religion // joy and strength;
Raising consciousness //challenging norms;
Searching for words that express Truth
Bringing Light to the world.

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Inspired by Charlie’s poem “Just Beneath the surface”

https://lifeinportofino.wordpress.com/2017/08/02/just-beneath-the-surface/

Grant Park 2008 11/4/08

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I saw America gathered on a cold November night
Black and white, yellow and red with all blends in between
I saw America gathered together as one people…
Children of integration, people of hope, “silver spoons,” and ghetto moms
I saw America gathered with joy in their hearts
College Students, blue collar workers, business men, and teachers
I saw America gathered “One Nation Under God”
People of all faiths, people of no faith, all with hope for the future
I saw America gathered a shining light to the world
Examples of hope, oneness, unity, and love, speaking with one voice
I saw America gathered watching History being made
Bringing down walls of race and fear that for too long held us back
I saw America gathered fulfilling ancestral dreams
Of Thomas Jefferson, Abraham Lincoln, and Martin Luther King
I saw America gathered to let the whole world know
Those differences can be transcended and peace can be attained.
I saw America gathered and it made me very proud
To be part of this great country where every voice is heard
I saw America gathered and I prayed, that God
Would give our new president wisdom in the difficult path ahead
I saw America gathered as Barack Obama spoke
With humility and pride, confidence and strength, wrapped in words of hope
I saw America gathered eager for national change
Not black or white, rich or poor, simply Americans
…and nothing more!

*Back in 2008. after the disastrous Bush years of the invasion of Iraq, I and many other Americans were drawn in by Obama’s message of Hope and Change. Although the “Hope and Change” did not turn out the way I had anticipated, watching the crowd who came out to see President elect Obama at Grant park that night, was a very moving experience. Immediately following the victory speech, I was inspired to write this.
Sadly the desire to work together was immediately crushed by Republicans, just the way it has now been with the Democarats with Trump. Division and polarization has brought great harm to the country. The vision I saw happening in Grant Park that election evening seems to have gone up in political smoke!

Tonight at d’Verse we were asked to write a poem that reflects Black History Month. The above is my naive dream that we could all come together to create the Hope and Change our country needed.

Join us at: https://dversepoetry.com

 

Blue Flame

gas ring on cooker

I learned recently, while watching an episode of Moonshiners, that the blue flame that is the hottest when using propane. When they distil the alcohol from the mash, they like to have the propane burner giving off a blue flame. This means the mixture of air and gas is at optimum performance.

Let me burn with a blue flame
Not orange or yellow;
Let me be intense
with the heat of inspiration.
Let the blue flame rise up
when abuse and injustice reigns
feeling the heat rising within
ready to speak to the issues that matter.
Let me burn with a blue flame
Hot as a moonshine still;
distilling the truth and letting it run
through my fingers and into my poems.
Let my mind bubble and churn
as the purity of my words become clear;
coming through one hundred and sixty proof.
And when my time is done
let it be a blue flame that returns me to dust;
as my spirit rises with that eternal blue flame.

Photo: Getty Images

She Sings

 

Daniel T Stowe Gardens #7 2018 (2)She sings
Though she cannot speak.
Halting words
say
“Hel-l l lo”
But as the music plays,
Oh… can she sing;
Every word plain and clear
smooth as jazz
she sings
with
a smile
spreading
across her face the words pour out
filling
her soul
with a rhythm,
and yes,
with spoken words
clear and unchained;
For the stroke
did not
affect that side of the brain.

***

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

 

Hogan’s Brown Cow

Hogans Brown Cow by Beverly Dyer

13 x 13 in
Tom Hogan’s brown cow
looks over the fence // wondering
with skeptical eyes
whether I am friend or foe;
Slowly chewing on green grass
Ruminating thoughts
randomly run through my head;
Big brown eyes stay fixed
determined to stare me down;
I turn // slowly walk away
Tom Hogan’s brown cow
wonders off to chew her cud;
Summer grass // rich cream.
Poetry flows from my head;
Barbed wire goes on for ever
Today at d’Verse Mish introduced us to artist Beverly Dryer.  She asked us to choose one of her watercolor paintings and write a poem inspired by the painting.  I chose Hogans Brown Cow. The eyes captured my imagination.  Hope you enjoy it. Her painting is used with her permission.

Sweet Solitude

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What is it about the ocean’s ebb and flow that brings healing to the soul? Is it the sound of the surf rolling in; or the breakers crashing one the sand? The rhythm of the ocean  draws many to seek solitude at waters edge.

As you sit feeling the water tickle your ankles and soft sand squishing between your toes, the cares of the world seem to flow away with the receding tide. The ocean’s mantra soothes the soul and brings rejuvenation and renewed strength.

Ocean works magic
Soul’s sandcastles wash away.
Summer solitude

*********

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Today Kim, at dverse, asked us to write a Haibun about solitude.  I chose to write about the healing qualities of solitude that many find at the ocean.

Come join us at: https://dversepoets.com