Words better left unspoken
stain the mind with permanent
indelible ink
Remembered // played on repeat
over and over and over again
You can push the pause button
but you can never erase
Photos: Dwight L. Roth
words
Make a Difference
What good is knowledge if it moves no one to action
The spouting of words and details that leave one wondering
Saving the words preserving the truth holds little value
without real life application and motivation for change
*
What good is rhetoric, going on and on, yet going nowhere
Outlining, detailing facts that leave us in confused limbo
Futuristic admonitions that leave us wondering, “So what?”
A lifeless dust storm of theories full of gritty residue
*
What good is history if we never learn from it
Generations cycling through life like hamsters in a cage
Looking back but never seeing, listening but never hearing
Doomed to repeat what we vowed would never happen again
*
Are the answers simply blowing in the winds of change?
Is change just one step forward and two steps back?
Photo: Dwight L. Roth
Words Change the World
The good and the traumatic seem to find permanent residence!
Remember, words are important!
They can build up or tear down in a matter of seconds
Remember, words are remembered
Embedded in feelings they lie in our minds
Remember, words have power
Call out those who commit atrocities
Remember, words can bring peace
Offering forgiveness, hope and compromise
Remember, words make a difference
Be careful how you use them
The good and the traumatic seem to find permanent residence!
Today at d’ verse. Sarah asked us to use anaphora, repetition in poetry. She gave us a list of words to choose from and we were to pick one to use as our repetitive word. I wrote this poem this morning after responding to Michele Lee’s post, ( https://myinspiredlife.org/2022/03/26/property-dispute/comment-page-1/#comment-11521) and modified it a little to include the word remember.
This is what Wikipedia says: anaphora (Greek: ἀναφορά, “carrying back”) is a rhetorical device that consists of repeating a sequence of words at the beginnings of neighboring clauses, thereby lending them emphasis.
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Photo: Dwight L. Roth
Poets or Squirrels?
We poets
are much like Mish’s squirrels
always searching
for a nibble
on a word peanut
chewing the lines
discarding the shells
looking for that delicious
nut of inspiration
which we bury
deep in our word processor
where we will dig it up later
Photo: Dwight L. Roth
Today at d’Verse, Mish shared about the squirrels, her neighbor feeds, who love to nibble on their peanuts and bury them in her yard. They are quite a nuisance, getting into her bird feeder stealing her sunflower seeds. She asked us to use the word nibble in our 44-word Quadrille. I decided to compare her squirrels to us poets, always looking for the next morsel of inspiration to nibble on and stash away.
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My Blood Runs Red
Words…. the poets lifeblood…
My words bleed red … running over the page
pouring out of the strict and rigid channels
onto flood plains of freedom unrestricted
*
My words bleed red … staining minds who read them
with lasting impressions embedded like hooks in a song
never forgotten… but rather called up at a moments notice
*
My words bleed red … life running out of me
so, I draw from your word bank of inspiration
mixing words with words finding my muse once more
Guard Your Words
Words like skipping stones
create waves everywhere they touch down
spreading // then sinking out of sight
not worried about the ripple effects
leaving everything clouded and murky
as more are thrown without thought or care
Be careful where your words are thrown
Photo: Dwight L. Roth
Royal Flush – (a soliloquy)
Words draw me to places yet unexplored
Stretched across the page like a mountain full of trees
Some of value tall and strong others just scraggly bushes
What draws me to write incessantly // hours on end
Filling pages with cobwebs of past // present // and future
*
So many like me write on and on, words unheard // never read
Yet they write, like me; seems they just can’t help themselves
What magic is in these words // the morphine of the soul
Stimulation like no other is my well written page
Compelling me to keep seeking that one last high
*
I am an Alzheimer’s poet // words flowing day after day
Yet with no memory tomorrow of what I wrote yesterday
There’s magic in words, shuffling the cards and dealing
A new hand every day… new words, new thoughts written
Perhaps one day soon I’ll be dealt my last hand…
*
My royal flush
Photo: Dwight L. Roth
Today at d’Verse, Victoria asked us to write a soliloquy. It is essentially a poem that has the poet in conversation with himself/herself. Musings and ponderings are heard only by the poet himself/herself. Perhaps it is what we old folks do as we age… talking to ourselves. Today, I am musing about why i continue to write everyday.
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Husks
Though our words may look
like dried husks, dead and worthless…
of little value…
Inside // buried potential
inspiration and new life!
*
Those who read find seeds
planted deeply in their soul
(a place to germinate)
Dominoes of light
Lined up //waiting to be tipped
Scattered feathers in the wind
Photo: Dwight L. Roth
Reading Ivor Sevens poem the other day, the word husks stuck in my mind, triggering this poem. Thanks for the inspiration Ivor!
The Cutting Edge
Did you ever feel
the edge of a knife
cutting into you
as someone welcomed you
to their house?
I know that feeling
As I once again go back
to my childhood memories
Growing fast
a preadolescent young boy
I was self conscious
about this obvious growth spurt
pushing me into husky size clothes
Although sweet and smiling
when spoken
the words,
“Well, you look like your pregnant!”
Had an edge I will never forget
cutting deep into my soul
Not meant to be abusive
there was no doubt
this cutting judgmental remark
drew blood
left a scar.
I am still wary of people
who smile too much
while saying something
less than welcoming.
Pain comes in many forms
The scars stay forever
Photo: Dwight L. Roth
Today at d’Verse, Lisa asked us to consider Edges or Fringes in our poetry. Edges give an insite that goes beyond words into the life of the poet revealing what is beyond the words. I decided to use edges as the way a persons words speak beyond what they are saying.
Join us at: https://dversepoet.com then click Mr. Linkey and read more!
Life is a Poem
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/
Roth Poetry 