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A fronte praecipitium a tergo lupi. (In front of you, a precipice. Behind you, wolves.)

Saturday, April 30, 2016

The Cell Phone Lament, A Cautionary Tale--Limerick

Okay. In honor of Ireland, where I am right now, here's a limerick:













THE CELL PHONE LAMENT
There was a young woman from Ar'zona
Who could not put down her cell phone-a
She texted when light
And into the night
A cell phone-aholic fide-bona

One day she was texting her Sweetie
Conversations while driving, so meaty
She neglected to see
Two dogs and a tree
Now from hospital she is still tweety

If no fortitude have you, or no will
To, while you are driving, your phone still
Please pull to the side
Or from me you'll hide
Make you swallow your phone like a pain pill












© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy
If you would like to learn about National Poetry Month, visit this site while I'm visiting Ireland...:o)

Friday, April 29, 2016

Girl Lost--Free Verse Poem

This is another freestyle poem for Poetry Month.

Girl Lost

She once
Was a person
oo Someone oo 
oooo  Yooooo
ooooLovedoooo
oooBut nowooo
ooo Floating Form  less
ooo  ooShe is nothingoo ooo
She   ooohas no anchorooo  ooo
ooo        No guy ropes         ooo
ooo                  No sail                 ooo
ooo               Or rudder                ooo
Just a hole
Where her heart 
once    lived
You don't    need her.
You don't     want her.
Inertia keeps       you here.
But inertia           is weak
And the             current?
Luckily             for her
There is          none now.
oooo              oooo
oooooo              oooooo
© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy

Thursday, April 28, 2016

Stumble On--ABAB Poem

This is a random poem I did (because it came to mind and wouldn't vacate until I put it down), of the ABAB type.


STUMBLE ON
Stumble on, fair pilgrim, trudging into the night
For morning awaits on the moon's other side
The bleak winter's road, full of pain and spite
Breaks into Spring and, Fear, woe betide

Gird yourself freshly, with courage and grit
Take heart from these challenges, lessons of pain
The things you are learning will bolster your wit
You think yourself harried to Hell and again

For each other pilgrim must travel his road
Must deal with the stickers, the stones, and the heat
Must hobble onward, himself must he goad
Fearing he'll falter, fall down, and be beat

He fears his friends and his children and wife
Will forsake and abandon him while on his way
And they may, for the choosing is part of this life
There is but to fall to his knees, now, and pray

Stumble on, fair pilgrim, but know at your side
Is the Builder of worlds and the Maker of man 
Hold your head up high, He's along for the ride
And know He believes in you, and that you can.

For the darkness can't linger when e're there's light
The Builder has figured this fact in His plan
And Evil can never prevail against Right
It's part of the priceless Salvation of man
© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy

In Praise of Honey Badgers--Poetweet

He's all brains&fangs/Has hunger pangs/4 lions&hippos&snakes&thangs/Killer bees R the guys w/whom he hangs/I'm glad he can't use boomerangs!

© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy

So this is a Poetweet and I wanted to make sure it worked right on Twitter. Hope it did. If you'd like to know more about Poetweets, go here. If you'd like to know more about honey badgers, there are some great vids on Youtube about them. They're fascinating little creatures and have my deepest respect. You don't mess with these guys and walk away un-mangled.


The Road to Australia--ABAB Poem

Here's an ABAB poem to profer for the end of National Poetry Month. This one is tongue firmly in cheek, so don't by any means get offended.

THE ROAD TO AUSTRALIA
There's a sign on the road to Australia
It says you get no handouts there
I'm eagerly waiting and watching
For someone to take their bold dare

Australians are known for their chutzpah
Won't take any guff from you
They'll just firmly ask you to vacate
Or they'll toss you out into the stew.

The most poisonous animals live there
And the real ones are poisonous too
Though most of them wonderful people
If you cross them, they'll flatten you

Oh the road to Australia spells hazard
It's rugged and wat'ry and wet
But if you are brainless and lazy
You are welcome to honor my bet. 
© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy
For more information on National Poetry Month, check out this site. She may have already decided on a different poetry type today, but I'm not here to see that. I'm on my way to Ireland! (I hope the link works since I pre-linked it.)

Wednesday, April 27, 2016

SAIL!--Diatelle Poem

Of all the wacky Poem forms, today is the wackiest and, so far, the hardest. For this you are going to want to go to Stephanie's blog and check out how to do a "Diatelle" poem. This was hard enough I'm only doing one...;o)




Sail
So free 
On the sea
Wind at your back
The sun sparking gently
Tips waves with gold, warming your back 
You taste the salt wind and watch for storm wrack
Your craft slices through the waves beneath clouds so pail 
The breeze whistles through the white shrouds and tack 
Soon you make about and go back
How you love finding lea
Come about. Tack!
Soaking me
Swiftly
Bail! 



© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy



Good luck with your Diatelle!

Dust--ABCB Poem

Here's an ABCB Poem For National Poetry Month. I think you'll agree with my sentiments...'cause who likes dusting?



 DUST BUNNIES
Everywhere in the house I go
Dust coats all with jackets gray
Like ball gown gloves it coats the books
Motes cavort in sunbeams fey

It blankets the shelves in silent calm
And rolls about beneath the bed
I turn around from dusting all
To find more of the dust I dread.

Dusting is clearly a thankless job
I turn around and it's back again
Will this aggravation end?
Wiping wiping, such a pain

That's how I used to think of dust
It got into my very head
So now I let it lie in peace 
For dust will be there when I'm dead

© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

Eire--Rictameter Poem

Today, on this %@*&$ buggy day I'm doing a Rictameter poem if I can ever make the stinking thing work. Here you go. If it looks rotten, it's the stinking site's fault because I've deleted this whole page three times now and started over. I hope it's worth it...:o)




Eire
Land of forebears
You call with green velvet
Your history romances me
I come to walk your shores and seek my dead
To find the places where they lie
To breathe their forgotten
Heartfelt stories
Ireland   

© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy

If you'd like to try a Rictameter Poem yourself, this is the site to try. Have a lovely day! 

Monday, April 25, 2016

A Choice, a Shirt, and a Stack of Pancakes--Pensee Poem

It's pensee poem day in National Poetry Month (at least for me).



Laundry
Fragrant with soap
Dances in the morning breeze
But against the moon, macabre.
In the basket? Not.

Daughter
Winsome and lithe
Fork in the road confronts her
Will she relax her grip and let
Her elder grow up?

Pancakes
Luscious syrup
Oozes down the yummy stack
Do I cut you in wheel spokes or
Just fold and gulp you?

© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy

If you want to know more about Pensee poems, here is the place to look. Enjoy the trip!

Sunday, April 24, 2016

For My Son--Free Verse Poem

This is a free verse poem for National Poetry Month. Sorry, I don't write on Sunday. So my limerick is up for the last day of the month since I'll be in Ireland...in Limerick...:o) Instead, this is free verse:

For My Son
I don't know if you realize
How you've pinned me to the world
With your potent hugs,
The care in your eyes,
And the way my words sound
In your ears.
You bump me back into 
My groove,
The one I've been carving
Since I was younger 
Than you.
You tell me
With that hundred and fifty watt smile
Of yours,
In a way that sings in my heart
And makes my life more like chocolate
And less like sand burrs.
If only you knew how I 
Watch you sleep
And how close to the surface
Are the tears which 
Tie you to me 
Forever
Hope lives in you,
Takes root and blooms,
The flowers fragrant 
And everliving.
You are beautiful 
In white.
© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy

Saturday, April 23, 2016

To Sleep Perchance to Dream--Quinzain

Today is quinzain day. And it's also talk like Shakespeare Day. I'm combining the two in this quinzain on sleep, or the lack thereof:


TO SLEEP, PERCHANCE TO DREAM
Curtain of the day drift down
O'er my questing eyes
Oh to sleep

Sleep eludeth me ever
My mind speedeth on
Rise the moon

Moon sails on, splendor alight
Put small thoughts to bed 
Die away

Away players from the stage 
Flee into the night
Avaunt ye

Ye must needs clear the mind's way
For a brave new troupe
Bold new thoughts

Thoughts, rise up like birds, reach heights
As the sun rises
Lift, curtain
© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy
Heh. I played tag with the last word of each quinzain. For the instructions on how to write your own quinzain, visit Stephanie at this site.


Friday, April 22, 2016

Earth Colors--Couplets

It's Earth Day. And while I know global warming is a crock of steaming manure, I do still appreciate the world God has given us. So I'll honor His gift with a poem:


Indigo is for the sky just before the dawn

Pink is for the yummy flesh of salmon, bass, and prawn

Red is for poinsettia, hibiscus, poppy, rose

Green is for the grass I wish I watered with a hose

Orange is for traffic cones bordering brown holes

Brown is for the fur of deer and muskrats, mink, and moles

Yellow makes me happy, with sunflow'rs bright with gold
Blue is for the rolling waves I ride when I go surfin' bold.

© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy

If you would like to know more about couplets or Earth Day poems, visit this site. And remember, pick up your trash.

Thursday, April 21, 2016

Poem in Your Pocket Day!

It's Poem in Your Pocket Day today, amidst National Poetry Day. I think I'll write several poems of different types in honor of the day.

Here's a haiku:











CHEERIO GUZZLER
He noses the ground
My dog loves those cheerios
Search well, little dog

Here's an ABAB Poem:

 







PACK ATTACK
I'm going to Ireland
So freaked, I can't wait
I'm already packed
I've saved the date

I've brought many things
To trade with  the natives
Scout patches and clothes
I'm being creative

I've crammed my suitcase
And sometimes I wonder
If, with all that junk,
I'm making a blunder

At the end of the day
Will people just chuckle
When my giant suitcase
Won't zip up or buckle?

This is a Free Verse Poem I wrote for those women out there who keep lonely, silent vigil:

BRIDGES
She lies in her bed at night
Next to a stranger
Who lives in her husband's skin,
Remembering what once was
And now is not. 
She wants him back--
The long ago him
Whose eyes lit up
When she came near
Who longed to cuddle on the couch
And go places together
Who spoke of dreams 
And planned with her,
Him, the father of her children,
Her knight in rusty armor.
She wants to reach out
To tell him why
They are so far apart
But there is no bridge.

He has gently walled off
His end
With computer keys
And push button kisses, 
Kind (or unkind) refusals,
And perhaps thoughts
Of another woman
Separate, always separate,
Just 1 and 1 with
No plus sign in the middle.
And there is no time
For deep conversations now.
Those they have, only seem to end
In vitriole
And spite. 
She's the Eternal wrong, now.
The less than.
When did that happen?
"So talk," he thunders.
What can she say to that?
His ears are closed.
His heart is dusty.
He is absent,
Grown distant and icy.
She used to batter at the wall
With bleeding fists
Praying with all her might
That God would 
Make a chink in the stone.
But that doesn't mean
There will be someone on the other side 
Of the wall
To listen.
She stands silent vigil
Alone
Because she will not cut the rope 
Or burn the bridge
Or leave the wall.
"Then make me a stone," she says.
A stone in his wall or a stone on his bridge.
"Make me a stone."
For stones last.
© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy
For more information on Poem in Your Pocket Day, try this site. And keep your favorite poem in your pocket for a lovely day!

Wednesday, April 20, 2016

Happiness--Grammar Poem

Today I'm doing a Grammar Poem for National Poetry Month.

HAPPINESS

Fleeting and elusive
Everyone searches for that precious commodity
Like trying to grasp the golden ring on the Merry-go-round
If only they realized it's littered along the trail in tiny, perfect moments
© 2016 by H. Linn Murphy
 If you would like to find out how to write a Grammar Poem, visit this site.