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Deus volt; Deus mittit me.

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Dead Flowers

I'm doing a haiku today. It came to me in an interesting way. I was pondering  the need I have to improve my family life. I'm still gnawing on the answer I got.




Dead Flowers
I asked for wisdom
Throw away dead flow'rs, He said
Now you may start fresh
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

Okay we're also supposed to do a pyramid poem today. So I thought it would be interesting to make my haiku a pyramid poem as well. If you want to know about pyramid poems, go here.

Flowers
Dead flowers
Dead flowers wilting
Dead flowers wilting in jackets
Dead flowers wilting in jackets of dust
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

My Cute Little Destroying Angel

Here's the second poem of the day, a Pensee poem. You'll find the form here at Steph's site. Here we go with mine:

J.R.
Desting angel
You used to whack them with trucks
Now you giggle and throw pillows
How will you be, grown up?
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

Pluto, my Fav PLANET

We're doing Octopoems today on this beautiful 28th day of April. What's an Octopoem you ask, rightly. Go here and Stephanie will tell you. Here's my splendiforus offering which will forever go down in the annals of poetry as a stellar example...;o)



Pluto
You float on the 
periphery, a colorless ghost, but I think of you 
as indigo because you're a rebel like that.
They won't even call you a planet anymore, and yet you're 
my favorite lost little frozen chunk of winter.
It's as if you are uncertain of your reception as you hang out there 
on the edge of the system.
You wrap yourself in darkness, nothing sweeping your empty rock but dust.
I could picture you in a purple tu-tu, toe socks, and a propeller beanie, especially when all the other planets are dressed in weather.
Not you. You're sitting in your bean bag chair out there in the void.
You're watching Lucy re-runs
And drinking white grape peach juice, 
because you can. 
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy
Artist's concept because they don't have the imagination to see you as I do, your biggest fan.

I messed with the look of this thing because I wanted it to look more like Pluto. I  think you can handle it...;o) 
Only today I messed things up, so there's a Pensee poem coming as well. Stay tuned, oh intrepid poetry fans.
 

Monday, April 27, 2015

Vacuums and Rictameters and Rain, Oh my!

Hello again from the desert. We got rain! That's a reason for jubilation. April is winding down and graduations, a wedding, and a homecoming are approaching. Today it's a Rictameter poem. Yeah I had no idea what that was either, so I went here to find out. And this is what came of it:


Vacuum
Devouring life
Leaving beauty after
Eating what we no longer want
Wouldn't it be nice to make all of life's
Problems disappear so quickly
Elegant solutions
To life's messes
Vacuum
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy


  

Sunday, April 26, 2015

The Writer's Lament

It's Sunday again so I wrote this Wednesday. Here we go with more couplets because they're a blast to write:










The Writer's Lament
Writing writing all day long
I write a list, I write a song.

I write directions to the store
I write a blog post then two more

Then some funny Face Book posts
With silly pictures and some boasts

A few reviews and then some edits
Acknowledgements and writer credits

I fill an order for some food
And mark some scriptures, call it good

It's not until the family's sleeping
With my book appointment keeping

Writing late into the night
By the dimming kitchen light

That is when my people live
To frolic on the page 'til five.

Then I haul me in to bed
To sleep for an hour like the dead

No wonder when the day gets light
My looks would give a reef shark fright

That is why kids see me sleeping
When into my room they're creeping

But they nudge me anyway
To tell me it's my driving day.
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

Saturday, April 25, 2015

Slouchy Pants--the Poem

This is an ABCB poem I concocted yesterday after seeing what I call a clown on the street with his pants down around his knees:

SLOUCHY PANTS
You, the ridiculous boy in the pants
Which dip inexplicably under your rear
What kind of message are you trying to leave
With that image of dots on my retinas sear'd?

Think beyond now when you glare at the world
Sometime in the future your children will see
A boy standing there with his pants hanging down
With no clue what he actually meant it to be

They'll look at each other, shrug shoulders and laugh
At the strange way their father has chosen with care
His perfectly fitting and normal blue jeans
Now showcase his red polka dot underwear

I see you when crossing the street every day
It's hilarious to watch you endeavour to run 
You clutching your pants while they're tumbling down
And all I can think is it's probably fun

Your father is calling his son a big fool
Your mother is rolling her eyes up above
The sister you teased is now laughing at you
But worse there's the girl that you've chosen to love

She'll be so delighted she'll probably scream
Imagine the photos in your wedding book
The girl in her bride gown so gorgeous and white
All your in-laws and outlaws are taking a look

You're wearing your tux with the pants hanging down
It's there on the pages forever to see
Those ridiculous underpants still peeking out
I'd pull up my pants were it all up to me.
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy


Friday, April 24, 2015

Oblivion

I had this poem bludgeoning the walls of my head, so I'm going to let it breathe free. I'm not sure what Stephanie has planned for this twenty fourth day of April, because I came straight here. I'll check later. Maybe we'll jive. This is an ABAB poem:

Oblivion
Into oblivion nightly I chase
Out to the cliff-side and up it I go
The moon spills nectar on my upturned face
To the ghostly galleon I frantically row

Up to the peak and I run without fear
The wind combs my hair with its fingers of ice
I hunt through the glades for a magical bear
Or chase goblin sharks in the deep precipice.

Swords beat on my armor, cleave into my flesh
The rope snaps, I plummet into the crevasse
The bull stamps and runs 'til our bodies enmesh
I round the last corner, drive into a crash

And then in the morning I rise from my bed
Rumpled and tired into clothing I climb
I greet the new day with a measure of dread
The adventure of dreams is unmatchable time

Gone is the chase, the retrieval, the hunt
Adrenalin pumping, the impossible sail
I sleep through my chores like a drudging grunt
Inhabit my cubicle, typing email

But oh, when the curtains of my eyes slam shut
The nightly adventure begins once again
My imagination is full to the glut
I can only embrace th' anxiety, pain 
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy
Here's a link to the five W's poem I was actually supposed to do. Cheers.



Thursday, April 23, 2015

The Long Slow Climb

This will be a lantern poem today. Go here to see what a lantern poem is. And now...drum roll...budadudabudedudabang--my poem:


Climb
Upward
Straining high
Reaching for holds
Free

© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy
I wish any of our climbing pictures from my youth had survived. At least I don't have any. No idea what happened to the cool poster of me upside down on the rope...wah. We were crazy and in love with delicious danger.

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Nature's Glory

In honor of Earth day I'll do another couplet, but this one is a Colors of Nature Couplet I got from Stephanie's blog. It's not that I'm a pot-smoking hippy running around in my tie dyed dress with flowers in my hair, but I am a citizen of the planet, specifically the American continent. So here's the tribute:

NATURE'S GLORY








Scarlet are the poppies fair 
That I twine into my hair









Tangerine the sunsets glow
And the reef fish down below 









Sunflowers make my mom's heart sing
She loves them more than anything

 











Verdant, lovely grassy greens
Makes me think of fairy queens










Azure, vaulted desert skies
Glow forever in my eyes









Indigo my heart's desire
Lilacs fragrant do inspire

 










Purple plums and luscious grapes
Nearly twilight mountain-scapes









All the colors of God's palet
Couldn't be bought with any wallet
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

Crazy how hard it is to find a chaplet of roses. They were roses instead of poppies before but I couldn't find pictures. Ah well. Just as pretty.

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Writing Couplets and Other Chores














Today it's couplets, making rhyme
For this I have a little time.

If you wish of these to learn,
To Steph's blog you should return.

At this hour my mind is blank
I have a book for this to thank

I have read since morning's light
About a knowing man who fights

Not even food has passed my lips
For I have read of books and ships.

Now that this task is at my hands
I can but think of far off lands.

Of honor, bravery, knowledge bright
Of kings and thieves and pale moonlight

What are rhymes to fearsome battles 
Mere snips and snaps and fluffy tattles

Ah! I can't think about this though
Back to the book with glee I go.

Have a most auspicious day
While I the hours do while away.
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

(The book I'm revelling in is THE WALKING DRUM by Louis L'Amour. And yes, interestingly enough, he has written at least one book in another genre than Western. The truly sad thing is that he didn't live to finish a sequel.)



Monday, April 20, 2015

Train Cinquain

I'm doing a cinquain today. Stephanie did it yesterday but I'd already written my Sunday offering. If you want to know more about cinquains, go here. Here's my Train Cinquain:
 Train tracks
Stitches of time
Lead to unknown places
Far horizons beckon to me
Freedom
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

Sunday, April 19, 2015

Queen Mother

Happy Birthday, Mom. This poem is for you on this 19th day of April. (And, yes, I know your birthday was yesterday, but when have I ever been on time? This is your birth month.) I give you as one of your birthday presents this Free Verse poem:
 
Queen Mother

Before the sunlight 
Painted the ridges with vermilion
And sent the meadowlarks 
To wake the day
You were down in the kitchen, 
Making, doing, preparing.
You wove love into all you wrought.
You lovingly sewed life together, 
Mending, creating, imagining,
Filling our lives with blessings.
Not a thought for how you felt
Not a prayer for your own pains 
And disappointments.
If, someday I could hold you up, 
A mirror before my face,
True beauty would look back at me.
Deep magnificence
And loving grace.
You have earned your diadem.
Never forget the mirror I hold for you
And please know 
What is always in my heart
When I look at you.
If only someday I can be such as you.
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

Saturday, April 18, 2015

Gone the Day

It's day the 18th and I have chosen a Free Verse poem to celebrate all the black and white movies I've been watching as I lay on the couch drowning in allergies. They wrote and spoke more lyrically, more introspectively, in those early days. Sometimes I weep inside with the beauty of their words. Here's my tribute to them:


Gone the Day
Quiet, now, time to pay
The piper of today, that spinning, 
Dancing, cavorting player upon the pipes
Sleepily the night winged birds dip towards horizon
I stand watching the sunlight fade to gold-burnished indigo
The day has fled, drawing a blanket of stars across the velvet night.
I drink in the night only infrequently, refusing to lift my head
Gone with the sun, today's helping of rich potential
Departed, falling through the glass
As sand, mounding up
Never to return.
And I? 
Have I mourned
That tender gift of time
Which now is gone away?
No. Never sufficiently. I have paid
For my tomorrows with the sunsets of today
And garishly and carelessly have I danced away
The possibilities with which tomorrow lay festooned.
I crouch, instead, fearful of lesser things which I have wrought.
I wish I'd filled this day with the brilliance of a fresh-cut rose.
Knowing I shall never retrieve that which I have lost
A single, wasted tear, for nothing brings what
Has flown away, back again.
But what of tomorrow?
Await the Morning
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

Friday, April 17, 2015

Day the 17th--Bridezilla ABCB Poem

Today on the 17th day of April, I'm going to be a rebel. I'll do Stephanie's book spine poem maybe later. For now I'm doing my own ABCB poem. (Disclaimer: This isn't aimed at ANYONE!! I don't want anyone to get all irate and unfriend me or stomp off in a tizzy or egg my house. I've been watching lots of 'Say Yes to the Dress' episodes lately and some of those women are completely mental. Just sayin'.)
Here it goes:

 







Bridezilla

You in your pumpkin-shaped bride dress
With the perfectly matching shoes
Why must there be such annoyance?
You've got zilch, zero, nothing to lose.

It's not like your sweet little bridegroom
Will stare in disgust at the gown
And notice there isn't a butt bow
And stomp off complaining and frown

He won't care if the flowers are pansies
Or acacia or lilies or rose
He won't care if the chairs all have covers
Or the toasts are all written in prose.

He just wants to make you his woman
And maybe have something to eat
Then he'll whisk you away to the hotel,
Have fun and then go soak his feet.

Back away from th' extravagant bride gown
You'll only be wearing it once
Then you'll stuff it away in a baggie
And pay like an overgrown dunce.

It's only one day in a million
You don't need to break the bank
It's as much for your parents as for you
Maybe they are the ones you should thank.

Your father's the one who will fork out
The money for each little thing
So before you decide to go crazy
Try treating him like a king.

Your mama's the one who looks frazzled
She's been run off her swollen red feet
You treat her with great condescension
And then expect her to be sweet

Your bridesmaids have gathered around you
They've helped out and gotten the dress
Please try not to make them look hideous
Don't cause them to yell due to stress.

Let's remember the reason for coming
Together on this fateful day
And be kind and perhaps understanding
That's all that I'm going to say.
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy






 

Thursday, April 16, 2015

Day the Sixteenth--Arizona Spring

All righty then. It's the 16th day of National Poetry Month so here's a Spring Senses poem generator. I got it here.

Spring Senses Poem
Spring looks like _____________________.
Spring sounds like ____________________.
Spring feels like ______________________.
Spring smells like _____________________.
Spring tastes like _____________________.
And here's my poem:

Arizona Spring
Spring looks like sharp spines topped with an explosion of color.
Spring sounds like a mockingbird alarm clock (unstoppable, of course).
Spring feels like that first climb up to the top of the roller coaster before it plunges into an active volcano.
Spring smells like BBQ sauce and creosote and a dusty wind.
Spring tastes like the promise of a new day.
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

The Age Old Question About Dusty Dinosaurs

It's grammar poem day on this lovely 15th day of April. If you want to know the parameters, go here. (Doesn't Stephanie have a great blog? She does all the work finding these poems plus making up her own.)
So here's my take on a grammar poem:


Dusty Dinosaurs



Computer parts
Ubiquitous and disorganized
Crouching in every nook, cat-wise

If only I had a room of holding.
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy


 

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Two Weeks In

So on this the two-week marker of National Poetry Month, here's a Fill-in-the-blanks poem I got from Stephanie's website. The only problem is that when I click on the blank generator it leads back to my own site. I doubt I'm the generator, so I'm going to fake it by reading the poems other people have offered there. Here's my stab (I'm using my pen name):


Indigo
Intrepid, Intelligent, Introverted-ish, Instinctive
Sibling of Chanel 9, Seela, Chuckalabucka, Piano Legs, and Bass Boss
Lover of beauty-filled words, sparkling upon the air in rainbow conflagrations
Who fears the leaving
Who needs understanding and value
She gives of herself
Would like to fill her soul with the crashing waves and the whisper of pines
Resident of the Milky Way
Chase
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy
(There are plenty of pictures of me on here. No need to add another for this.)


Monday, April 13, 2015

Dia de Trese--If You Were a Dog

It's an If-You-Were poem on this 13th day of April. It's a 4-stanza poem with the 2nd and 4th stanzas rhyming. So here goes the If poem:

If You Were a Dog
If you were a dog,
Then I'd be your bone
You'd chew on my neck 
'Til the cows came home.

I'd bring you comfort
And fill you with cheer
And you'd bury me
In a hole about here.

I'd wait patiently
For you to come back
You'd unearth my goodness
And chew 'til I cracked.

Your teeth they would tickle
Your nose would be wet
But we'd be together
It's as good as it gets.

You'd wag your tail
And slobber and drool
But having you love me
Would be pretty cool.
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

If you'd like to know more about If You Were Poems, try here. If not, be a puppy...;o)

Sunday, April 12, 2015

D.E.A.R. Day

In honor of Drop Everything And Read Day (and of Beverly Cleary, whose birthday it is) here is a Free verse poem about books:

BOOKS
I step through your cover,
A cardboard tunnel
Through a black hole,
Out a garden gate,
Over a moor,

Through a sally port,
Down a rabbit hole,
Along a dark alley,

Out an escape hatch,
And across the roofs of a forgotten city
From my world
Into countless others.

Your pages thrill me and kill me,
Fill me with anticipation.
I drink it in, thirsty for pages, words,
And far-flung vistas.
I am the wanderer,
The intrepid explorer,
The roaring mouse,

The fighter of strange battles
The beloved but hated,
The free and enslaved,
The damaged searcher,
The hopeless and hopeful,
The triumphant.
I am your
Reader.
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

If you're looking for more info on D.E.A.R., go here.





Saturday, April 11, 2015

Day 11--Quinzain Day

It's quinzain day. First line is 7 syllables, next 5, last of the three, three. Here's mine:

Eire
I want to go to Ireland
Why is it so green?
Lots of rain.
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

There's more info about quinzains here. Check it out.

Friday, April 10, 2015

Baby Ben the Ten


On this tenth day of April, I'm doing a Clarihew poem.
This is an AABB poem of four lines about a person.
Here goes my stab at it:

Baby Ben the Ten

Let's talk about Baby Ben
He's the cutest morsel in ten
He cuddles up on my chest
I love Baby Ben the best

When each of the others were small
I adored them best of all   
But now it's Benjamin's turn
The moniker's taxing to earn

The softest most rosy is Ben
With furry soft arms and chin
I love when he looks to the skies
It's Eternity there in his eyes


(I'd have a picture but I don't want to splash his face on the net.)
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

You can find out more about Clarihew poems here.

Thursday, April 9, 2015

Gossip Rags and Nonets

Ninth day
Today I'm writing a Nonet. It's a poem which begins with a line with nine syllables and each descending line has one less syllable until there is one. This one is called
No offence, I just picked a random celeb out of the air.
Gossip Rags
Gossip rags presuppose we care for
Those glittery, painted scarecrows 
With nothing inside their heads
And less inside their hearts
Their faces shuttered
They pose for us
Photo-shopped
Taunting
Gone
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

You can find information about Nonets here.

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Spot the Beta--an Octopoem

Today's poem is an Octopoem. Eight lines of deliciousness. They start with these topics:
1.color
2.season
3.place
4.weather
5.clothing
6.furniture
7.TV show
8.food

Here's my poem:

Spot the Beta

Spot the Beta is a wonderful blue with glittering mauve and light green too.
He looks like an Easter egg colored and grand
Though he lives in a bowl with a castle and sand
The weather inside there is always quite fine
Which is why he wears nothing but slippers and twine.
He has a sweet rock and some fake orange weeds
And a tiny TV where he watches the Reeds
What, you ask, is his favorite food? It's scrambled egg and it's really quite good.
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy


If you want to know more about octopoems go here. I'd never even heard of them before, so this is a cool place to find out.

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

A Voice in the Darkness

Today it's Free Verse. I'm doing a poem called 

A Voice in the Darkness.

It's thin wisp of a shadowy note
Fearful beneath the moon's knife edge
Waking me from dreamless chill
Up through layers of Stygian sludge 
It claws
Into the night air 
One pure, lancing sound
Embodying, burgeoning, coalescing
Slicing the night

I am awake
It hangs, that note, 
On raptor's wings 
Caught
Then tilting slightly
It falls from the cusp
Plunging
Wind screaming as its dagger
 Finds its mark
"Mommeeeeeeeee
Can I have a drink of water?"
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

For more information on free verse, go here. It's a fab site in general.