I Missed a Couple Days

But not quite so many as it seems. Good Friday and Holy Saturday did not work out from a poetry point of view. I tried. I scattered pieces of verse everywhere, but nothing came together enough to make it work while. I did manage something on Easter - not the beautiful, hopeful thing I wanted, because the prompt was "system" and if there is a way to turn that into an Easter poem, I never found it. I also managed one today. Neither of them are too good. But I am posting them anyway:

Recovery System

Sorrow can only endure so long

Bitter rage burns out at last

Pain has its measure to mar or make.

And the empty soul at last must stand:

Choose to give back good for wrong,

Hunt for Hope and hold it fast,

Face itself for the soul’s own sake,

Learn to laugh, and take God’s Hand.

I don't think I really mean to call that by that title. It was merely the trigger phrase that meant that I actually had a poem to post. Today's post was "dance". One of my younger sisters loved the song Cherish. Whenever Dad would put it on, she would stop whatever she was doing, and come out to dance with him. The prompter also pointed out that it is Haiku day today. I am not a huge fan of Haiku, but I figured the form worked for this. 

Cherish

When he played their song

At the first notes of “Cherish”

She came out shyly,

Small and expectant.

He swept her up in his arms,

They dance together

Daddy and daughter

In each other’s arms, singing

“Cherish is the word”…

Family

This was a difficult prompt for me, because I have a really great family. And my really great family is going through some difficult times together. There was so much I wanted to get into this poem - sitting around the kitchen table, drink coffee and conversing, they way we sort of adopt people - not just our friends, but people who seem to need a family, the way we can spend hours playing silly games like bananagrams, while listening to music. I couldn't do it, but I hope this is not too bad of an effort, thought it took far longer for this short bit of verse to come than it ought have:

We never had much

Only each other,

Wine and bread,

At family dinners,

Love and laughter,

Song and banter

Walks in all weather,

When wonder was free.

Mother and Father

Sisters and brother

Friends who were family

And Rosary together.

Prompt 12: Guilt

"Guilt" is probably a good prompt for Holy Week, and I thought it would be easier to write than it actually was. Several aborted attempts finally yielded this:

Domine Non Sum Dignus

It is not Thy bleeding feet,

Thy wounded hands nor crown of scars –

Though I dealt them all to Thee,

And left Thee, beaten and alone –

That cause me now such sorrowing,

That leave me hollowed and ashamed,

But that, when I had done the deed,

And fled, a fugitive, in the dark,

Thy Love came searching after me,

Through tangled ways of thorn and stone,

Found me, guilty and cowering,

Looked at me, and called my name.

Lo, the Perfidious Muse....

It is a bad sign when I quote a... curious library patron from years and years ago. Especially when the prompt of the day was to write either a sonnet or an anti-form poem. Anti-form and all its antecedents are anathema to me. Even if I should want to write something non-metrical and free form, I cannot do it. So sonnet it was. Only... I couldn't do it. My serious attempt at a sonnet would not go anywhere. About half way through the day, I abandoned it for a sonnet on my inability to write sonnets:

On Being Unable to Write Today

I’ve chosen today to write a sonnet –

I’ve never been able to write free verse –

But though I have laboured the day upon it,

I’ve nothing to show, for better or worse

But a crumpled collection of discarded lines

‘Mid work notes, in pockets, tucked into books.

Crumpled up pieces of terrible rhymes

Mocking the task I rashly undertook.

Farewell to pride and all solemnity

Away with every pretension of skill!

Embrace instead heartfelt humility:

We are made stronger by what doesn’t kill.

                     One can only try, but though I fail

                     Still I’ll try, as long as I am able.

Travelling....

That was the prompt today. A travel poem... The older I get, the less I like the travelling part of travelling. I like cruising well enough - a nice road trip with music and good scenery. Anything more than that - especially if it involves the humiliation of airport travel - and I just want to get to where ever I am going and never get on the plane again. This poem is about that, and the relief that comes with arriving:

Dublin 2016

Centennial of the Easter Rising

I’ve so long been travelling-

Purgatorial timelessness,

Displaced and moorless-

Through hermetical airports,

In pressure-locked cabins,

Efficient and airless,

Purposefully comfortless,

With weather only

a thing through the glass,

That this touch of wildness,

This smell of sweetness:

The sea-smell borne

on the wind, in the rain-

Cuts to the heart of me,

Quickens and blesses –

Balm to my weariness:

I am an exile, returning to home.

Palm Sunday

This is the antiphon for Palm Sunday. It is one of those extraordinarily beautiful songs that the Church composes for its most special occasions. In traditional Catholic services, this is the antiphon that is sung while the faithful process up to receive their palms.

Today's poetry prompt was another fill in the blank prompt, "So (blank)". All of the initial ideas were flippant: "So.... it has come to this". (And very dramatic it is too.) "So, this is how it ends..." (Only I can't think of anything to follow up with.) "So this is how it feels." (I don't do feelings.) 

An idea occurred to me on the way down to Mass... it was supposed to be a two part poem. The last two lines would have involved me lifting palms and singing "Hosanna filio David". So I worried the poem into shape..... and discovered that after a single part, it seems so complete that I could not figure out how to get the second part in. I did not immediately post it, as I really hoped that a second part might take shape. But the more I thought about it, the more the poet instinct told me that it was finished. So this is the poem of the day:

So I, In Darkness Sought Thy Face

Palm Sunday, 2017

Because I saw Thy Glory clad

In home-spun robes, Thy work-scarred hands

Upraised to bless and to command

The Sea be calm and sorrows flee,

Because I saw Thy Chivalry,

So I, in darkness, sought Thy Face,

And saw the Face Thou hid.

Panic

That was the prompt. Panic. And I am not about to write about a panic attack, thank you very much. So I settled with a memory of watching my little sisters play in the water. 

Jacinta at the Beach

She went with cautious confidence,
Her little toes curled on the sand,
And little face amazed and grave
As water rushed around her feet
And broke upon the shore.

While I watched with heart in mouth,
Her joy between lake and land,
Afraid, because she was so brave,
The water would rush up to greet

Forget its strength, and teach her fear.