Fig Jar World (NaPoWriMo 2017, Day 25)

http://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-five-3/

“…our daily prompt (optional, as always). In 1958, the philosopher/critic Gaston Bachelard wrote a book called The Poetics of Space, about the emotional relationship that people have with particular kinds of spaces – the insides of sea shells, drawers, nooks, and all the various parts of houses. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that explores a small, defined space – it could be your childhood bedroom, or the box where you keep old photos. It could be the inside of a coin purse or the recesses of an umbrella stand. Any space will do – so long as it is small, definite, and meaningful to you.”

Small fig-shaped jar

Once held Dalmatia Fig Spread

Now a world unto itself

In cove beneath far ocean bed

Slumber-eyed I climb inside

Sail on bleached white shells amid

Assorted treasures under lid

Polished stones, jade and onyx

Marbled agate cobalt blue

Worn translucent sea glass

Striations mirror sky at dusk

Single flat finger of driftwood

To rest upon while admiring

Teeny colored beads, a bracelet

Wrist no longer fits

Tiny pink silk rose, its whorls

Perfection woven eternal

Even smaller silver chain

Shimmered links to lost something…

White bow ribbon ties black cross

To one, carved quartz, pale as dawn

A miniature fig jar cathedral

Where are blessed mermaid angels—

Writing hymns, myths within?

Singing siren songs for whales

Much too large, sad, long gone?

Space more transparent than pen’s heart

Captive trinkets, tide-washed thoughts

Poems forlorn, as yet unborn—

Hands hold, turn glass ’round, ’round

In dimmed wee-dreamy midnight light

Fig jar world—waves, wind chimes call

To sojourn…twelve bells, ghost-love’s sound

© R L Cadillac, 2017 ~ All rights reserved.

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When One Door Shuts… (Fi50)

https://thebookshelfgargoyle.wordpress.com/2017/04/23/fiction-in-50-april-challenge-2017-fi50/

Click the link above to read the bounty offered at Bruce’s blog.  His great prompt this month is “When One Door Shuts”—and I stumbled on a quote to share, before my poem:

“God never slams a door in your face without opening a box of Girl Scout cookies.”  Elizabeth Gilbert, writer

When one door shuts—

You’ll often be led

To unlocked window

(Possible cracked-glass

Injury risk)

Small, above the basement

…Maybe you can squeeze

Big behind through;

Or in attic, high up…

Nearby a ladder

More/less stable.

Thing is—opportunity, destiny

Easily gained without

Some adventure

To regale friends later

Isn’t nearly as rewarding.

© R L Cadillac, 2017 ~ All rights reserved.

Image ~ Pixabay

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This, Our Land, Earth (NaPoWriMo 2017, Day 22)

http://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-two-3/

“…our prompt for the day (optional, as always). In honor of Earth Day, I’d like to challenge you to write a georgic. The original georgic poem was written by Virgil, and while it was ostensibly a practical and instructional guide regarding agricultural concerns, it also offers political commentary on the use of land in the wake of war. The georgic was revived by British poets in the eighteenth century, when the use of land was changing both due to the increased use of enlightenment farming techniques and due to political realignments such as the union of England, Scotland, and Wales.

Your Georgic could be a simple set of instructions on how to grow or care for something, but it could also incorporate larger themes as to how land should be used (or not used), or for what purposes.”

~~~

Fallen, fallen

Grand majestic inheritance

This, our land, Earth

Despairs, laments…

Too much lost to greed and

Lapsed, tossed respect.

What happened to

Accountability, reverence?

Generations past held

The land as sacred, saw

The fingerprints of God

Wherever they looked;

Acknowledged it gratefully

As gift from Him—to nurture

Provide all that His beloved

Creation, Mankind, would need

As we briefly sojourn here.

The land, and man’s soul, have

Suffered crippling erosion—

Arid hearts parched

Sustaining waters depleted;

Toxins encroaching, seeping

Into everything that isn’t

Swallowed by bulging landfills.

Can there yet be sufficient faith

Repentant effort…to hope

Redemption, restoration

Might be realized?

© R L Cadillac, 2017 ~ All rights reserved.

Image ~ Pixabay

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Sleep’s Voyage

 

Weekly Writing Prompt #85

(5) Words: | SCORE | SLEEP | FREE | CALM | ESCAPE |

~

Escape to gauzy other world

Sleep, no planned itinerary

Begin calm cruise on midnight sea

Beyond conscious pale of reason.

Where am I sailing, to what named ports dock?

Will ship’s course turn violent, crash

On slumbered scenes’ saber’d rock?

Which cavalcade of characters meet?

The dead not missed, ones yet living

Incidental, mercurial, unfamiliar—fellow

Travelers’ purpose in sloop’s destiny, shadow.

Voyage to land far foreign, free

Of consequences, tallied score

No passport required for

Still, and always, unsolved mystery.

“Love, did you rest well…or nightmares again?”

I daren’t describe darkest net of dreams—

Can’t tell him, “Someone was trying to break in”.

© R L Cadillac, 2017 ~ All rights reserved.

Image ~ Pixabay

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Fry (Poet’s Sleepless Brain)

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/fry/

Fry me to the moon

Let me saute sweet tender stars

Let me echo laughter’s sound

To earth, sad distant-far…

Pour gilt milky way

A goblet, champagne of night sky

Shared with those we loved

And ones we dreamed of, never met…

In other words, let’s forget

What held us savage-bound

Broke hearts, brought tears to eye

Let’s return to Heaven’s home…and soon

© R L Cadillac, 2017 ~ All rights reserved.

Image ~ Pixabay

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Unravel Me

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/unravel/

Yet, still, you unravel me…

Like old sweater I’d have

Wrapped ’round your shoulders

With heart’s unrelenting affection

To away the chill bent on stealing you.

Your silence didn’t sway me—

I fill in the spaces with phrases

Wound like cotton yarn between

Fingers—cat’s cradle, dreams I play.

And they, words a-fraying—wise, pretty…

Deep as pensive Pacific clouds in

Dream-voice as far, wavy azure…

Yet, still, unravel me.

© R L Cadillac, 2017 ~ All rights reserved.

Image ~ Pixabay

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