revenant

there is a memory

locked in your brain

silent now

against the roar of the ocean

along your path

imperceptible

amidst the bustling

of daily life

it pulls at you

to engage

you dismiss it

for the fluctuations

of the now

you drop-kick the nagging

distraction

but it pilots up

from a deep shaft in your mind

to claim conscious thought

to not be ignored

to seek its own justice

and you sigh

with wry smile

in acquiescence

to honor

what you are trying

to suppress:

the revenant

© nan, 2016

No, this poem is not about the Oscar nominated film, and I haven't seen the movie (although I did read a description of the plot). This is my independent take on the words this Sunday from The Sunday Whirl: engage, pilot, shaft, claim, justice, roar, sigh, revenant, fluctuation, drop, dismiss, and bustling. Wordles are so much fun. I am also posting over at the Pantry. Now off to read others' submissions!

abyss

I walk along its edge
alone
look down and do not wobble
nothing affects my balance

the secret is remembering
that even if I fall
beyond the flesh
is the holy and the hidden

nonetheless I drift further
from the possibility
pretend to exert control
over accident’s tide

fears drift
they pass --
a fine mist
in light wind

breath
tames
mind


© nan, 2015

[Note: Just putting some words together from The Sunday Whirl for some morning fun. Posting there and at the Pantry. The words: mist, fall, abyss, flesh, light, secret, holy, hidden, tide, pass, drift, and tames. I like this kind of stream of consciousness stuff . . . reminds me of one of my favorite Beatles tunes. Can you guess which one? Nothing's gonna change my world. (Or so I'd like to think.)]

nexus

one maple tree

with its straight trunk

branches outstretched

flush with greens and reds, haloing round

calls autumn to order

swearing in the hundreds of leaves

some blowing around in the wind

some assembled below

I feel threats of winter come

pressing in to share its chill

onto the surface of my tender face

infiltrating fingers and toes

I list to the left, with gradual freezing

I whimper

to no one

who can hear me

© nan, 2015

[Written for The Sunday Whirl and posted over at Poets United.]

carry that weight

virginia
from across the pond
uttered a cry for help
-- not for she alone.

her mental health
was delicate
we know that now,
though not necessarily poor.

with friends and money
and killer intellect
she was a trapped soul --
a woman in a world
that would not let her be.

how narrow the confines
of the existence from which she wrote
so much for herself, for me
for humanity.

she contemplated death
-- the only way to escape
these teeth, these organs,
this DNA --
this cell of captivity.

she would not jump
from a tower or bridge.
she walked, breathing steadily,
stones in her skirt pockets
into the sea
with all her power
leaving us irony and symbolism.

her lighthouse sends out
its signal still
round and round and round . . .
wave after wave after wave . . .

and the ocean
keeps beating
like humanity’s
collective
heart,
as we carry the weight
she left behind.

© nan, 2015

[Note: This is written for The Sunday Whirl and Poets United from Whirl words: organs, tower, money, poor, pond, cell, DNA, friends, teeth, bridge, signal, and skirt. It has been far too long since I've attempted a poem. I've been thinking a lot, lately, about how some groups just can't shake their burdens - depending on the time or the place or the prevailing regimes. Women have not had it easy, and some times and places have been or are worst than others. These words reminded me of the brilliant Virginia Woolf, who influenced my early thinking. When her light went out, she left the lighthouse lantern eternally burning, but she left the weight for others to carry. I carry that weight.]

plagues

there are plagues

that come from monkeys.

diseases tear bodies

down

whole towns and villages

decimated

there are plagues

born of belief systems

and brainwashing

powerful minds listen

for the rustling of blasphemy

to quell

what would you choose?

a landscape of physical illness

in which independent

thought lives (sweetly) before it dies

a grim and painful death?

or a dry deck of desert sand

upon which your parched mind

is a kept man…

© nan, 2015

NOTE: It's the Ides of March and all that. Here in CNY it is lightly snowing in a steady hurry. I haven't written a poem in a while. This is for The Sunday Whirl and Poets United. The words to use were:  plague, monkeys, deck, born, dry, whole, keep, sweet, blasphemy, rustling, and tear.

spirit armor

opposite of trite:

powerful words

travel miles

through the medium of ethers

they aim

they land

they scorch

they etch

blood initials

onto mind’s eye

I fall to no spell

spirit armor wraps me

words merely

paint henna tattoos
on surface skin

© nan, 2015

[Written for The Sunday Whirl. The words were:  trite, spell, scorch, miles, aim, spirit, words, maybe, chime, land, mind, and sign. I used all except for "chime," but I incorporated the imagined chime of a high-pitched bell, the the ringing inside an ear, to start the poem... so feel free to imagine that, and when the sound ceases, read the poem.]

sailing vessel

world of pain

I live in you

I swim the inky channel of grief,

non-linear as it is,

from a single point

or multiple points of view

I won’t capitulate

won’t condemn

won’t be rendered powerless

world of joy

I live in you

reveling in sense pleasures

sound, sight, smell

I taste the world and feel its touch

peace washes over me

I engage life’s sweetness

resist ennui

generate energy of presence

world of equanimity

you live in me

I need to find you

there, abiding with suffering

and the calm

there in veils of tears

and in euphoria

at the end

I wish to be a sailing vessel

moving smoothly

and fully balanced

in the breezes --

not a ship that

lists

one way

or the other

© nan, 2015

[Written for last weeks Sunday Whirl... a week late, and also for Poets United.]

solstice flames

distant

solstice flames

burn away a thousand worries

from the past

sweat out

false performances and snags

reduce panic to

fearless choice

this is the shortest day

tomorrow brings

more light

gradual, imperceptible,

expansion

how to go on . . .

eyes look high, look through

heart always centered

self-help, self-talk, self-less

into the next cycle

© nan, 2014

[Written for The Sunday Whirl and Poets United, my first moment of writing in several weeks in honor of the winter solstice. I am grateful for a moment's peace - and letting the words sink in.]

miner

what would you give?

to stop searching,

to know in your heart,

not just your mind,

that the ocean of gold

lies within you

in each moment.

it is the secret of ages

just out of reach --

a star-crossed lover,

an old expression,

a platitude.

each of us

is a miner

with a paycheck to earn

we keep trudging on

in the dark.

we live.

© nan, 2014

[One quick poem before I hit the road. I saw the Wordle words over at The Sunday Whirl, and this came together quite quickly. Posted over at Poets United, for some extra fun. I will be around to read others' poems when I get to my destination later this evening. ]

distraction

this really happened

on her second week of the new job.

she was keeping all the numbers straight

inside her head --

parking lot A11 off route 434

the combination to the back door keypad,

scores of names she needed to memorize.

she would say a friendly hello

to each new colleague

extending her right hand
for the power handshake --

impressing them with her smile and charm,

stomping out any sense of doubt

as she took her place and spoke the language.

she thought of these things

as she quickly readied for the day

and in a single instant

she dropped the hot curling iron

into her left eye and heard an actual sizzle --

her instantaneous cry muffled by

the overwhelming imperative of her existence.

© nan, 2014

[Note: Written for The Sunday Whirl. The Wordle words were: muffled, sizzle, single,

existence, right, power, stomping, hello, place, back, language, and numbers.]

loss

unbelievably, the sturdy nest, high in the white pine

carefully crafted and wedged

came loose in high winds

and hurtled down to the ground

taking with it two eaglets

before this, thriving

now broken and dead

wings never to soar

pair of eagle parents in shock,

stunned, going back to the spot and letting out plaintive cries

the blackbird understands this lonely screaming

as it rests on a nearby branch

feeling caution for when

the instinct of the eagles will arise again

to go on with life --

eyes flashing left and right

seeing more clearly now than

in the night that will come

and for a moment, feeling free

to fall

© nan, 2014

This was written for The Sunday Whirl. Wordle words: wings, blackbird, life, arise, broken, eyes, moment, see, light, dead, night, and free.

[Note: As you probably will also, I recognized the source of these words immediately since they come from one of my all-time favorite Beatles songs. I found it much more difficult to write a poem when the melody and word arrangement of these words is part of my brain/memory fabric. And then, based on events that happened on Thursday/Friday, the poem came to me. The eagle's nest I had the good fortune to observe and photograph a couple of weeks ago did in fact blow out of its high pine... and the eaglets were confirmed dead by a biologist on a listserv that Tom is on. Nature's cruelty hit me hard. I must say, though, that I prefer the arrangement and meaning of the words from the Beatles song Blackbird much more than they way they arrange here ... and still, I enjoyed the challenge of making new meaning from words that are otherwise close to my heart.]

acquiescence

It's a sunny Sunday and it's time to whirl! The Wordle words over at The Sunday Whirl today are: barrier, detail, diamond, pleat, power, strap, swing, suspend, tough, unit, waterfall, and zip. I like a good conversational poem, and I put this in first person, second person format.

acquiescence

I said,

there seems to be a barrier

between your mind and your soul

with sweet truth hiding like a diamond

inside a tough pleat in the armor

around your heart

you said,

love is in the details

and you can't help it

if I have mood swings

and my tears flow

like silent gushing waterfalls

then, I figure out the power

of your defense again

when you strap the issue

onto me and zip up tight –

suspending

any more inquiry

I said, I guess

you and I are not unified whole

we are separate units –

complete

but part of something

more complex

© nan, 2014

time - in paradox

I have no time.

All I have is time.

I have no time, I growl,

to get to the root of the problem

to plan for my future

to pack my bags and

earn my way to heaven

to heal

why?

All I have is time

for spinning my wheels

for mending rows of damaging thoughts

for shivering in the wings where

an icy draft bursts through the calm

of now

© nan, 2014

[Notes: Anyone who stops by JPP for poetry has not found much here lately. This morning after a disturbed sleep, and definitely not enough rest, I looked at these words and saw a quick poem in them... All contradictions and scattered, but still, a poem. The Wordle words for The Sunday Whirl are:  root, plan, pack, heaven, growl, heal, burst, rows, shivering, mending, why, and time. So many fritter away their time with undisciplined thoughts instead of trying to just be "present." We really do have all kinds of time.]

mercy

my guess is this:

it isn’t easy to comprehend

what mercy truly is

in certain circumstances

you’ve seen the types,

listless in the hallways,

silver-haired heads bobbing on the pillows

of their own double-chins

memories of your grandmother, triggered

by the olfactory assault

when you enter the cage of a building

where they reside for now

liquid protein shakes --

vanilla, strawberry and chalk

administered as human fuel

(for some through a feeding tube)

do they have a sixth sense

like a cool breeze or warm rays of sun

when the angels of mercy

slip in to accompany them home?

© nan, 2014

[Written for The Sunday Whirl and Poets United, a Wordle poem using the words: type, easy, double, mercy, cage, list, trigger, assault, fuel, guess, and six.]

deep scarlet sky descending

deep scarlet sky descending

caresses the landscape

behind the spare tree line.

I am first struck by my

own expectation of nightfall--

fear paired with relief.

a bit of melancholy

might save me

after all.

© nan, 2014

[Written for The Sunday Whirl and also posted at Poets United. The words were: sky, spare, scarlet, stuck, caress, first, behind, expect, pair, bit, might and save. This poem was influenced by my feelings after watching a film based on a semi-autobiographical David Sedaris essay, entitled C.O.G., last night. I am a big David Sedaris fan. This film affected me. I wasn't ready for how I would feel.]

good moment

quietly I hum along thinking

almost meditating

on the idea of a subtle tint

rose colored light

seeping through

the tip of my mind

integral to the peace

integral to learning the answer

integral to navigating the map

this is the last chance

again

to blast through

staid, staid convention

a tincture for ebullience

softly, softly, synchronizing

my breathing with the

off beats of the drums

spontaneous

pranayama

Copyright © 2013 Nan P.

[Wordle words:  think, tint, synchronize, softly, tip, integral, map, blast, chance, tincture, and answer. Written for The Sunday Whirl... maybe the last poem here at JPP for 2013. Also posted over at Poets United.

border-crossing

thanks to razor-wire fences and gnashing-teeth dogs

not to mention the dealers whose cross-fire kills innocents like me

going from one side of the so-called road to the other

is not such an easy thing

the plight is this – no, not the plight, the crisis is this:

my life and the lives of my children depend

on small square government issued documents

containing words that say we are of this country and not that

hungry people do not crave insight

into political identity

poor, wandering people want more than they have

just as you do

I don’t trounce your rights to tax decreases

I don’t want to wash your restaurant dishes or clean your house

I just crave bread, water, a job

-- some threads of human dignity

born into a desperate life

forces risk-taking that defies logic

and there is no answer to the question,

why?

Copyright © 2013 Nan P.

[Written for The Sunday Whirl and posted at Poets United. After Thanksgiving, a time that is excessive for so many in the U.S., I forced myself to not look away from the images that today's Wordle words suggested: insight, trouncing, forces, border, thanks, crisis, depend, fire, road, plight, word, and issued. I played around with the voice so much with this, I can honestly say it is still a work in progress. First-person? Second or third-person? Not sure which is best to achieve the desired effect...]

home

the afternoon drill –

a walk in the unit corridor

navigating this chair

and that table,

finding an even stride

all the while, visions

in her head

humming along the years

each instant

brings past to present

how much did she miss

when she held her posture

so straight?

dignity is ego

how much did she gain

when she unbuckled the harness

that cinched her so tight?

laughter is grace

Copyright © 2013 Nan P.

Written for The Sunday Whirl and posted at Poets United. The Wordle words are:  buckle, gain, miss, instant, navigate, grace, visions, humming, drill, dignity, years, and stride. 

to that, she kneels

trying to find the rhythm

of her own drummer,

it seems someone else is always

clapping precisely on the one and three

expecting her to dance

in odd moments,

driving long distance in the car,

pushing a cart in the grocery store,

invisible, inner whisperings call

the creation of her authentic beat

syncopated impulse,

like palms and fingers tapping on the

tabla and mridangam,

never fists hitting flesh,
emits the infinite energy of grace

Copyright © 2013 Nan P.

[Written for The Sunday Whirl and posted to Poets United. The wordle words were: infinite, hit, invisible, emits, rhythm, impulse, distance, kneel, creation, whisperings, fists, and precise.]

venus, shines mightily

the inky, immeasurable

sheet that is the western sky

just after dusk

hosts a luminous orb

giant among tiny pebbles of light

pulling our vision

upward.

drawn into the glowing brilliance,

necks bend to lock in gazes --

it is no plane flying low

or landing

-- a celestial body blazes

in the expanse of constellations,

all in one distant place.

radiance awakens

a momentary yearning

to fly, senses waking,

fear eroding

we swim through speckled sea

of space and ice and flames --

the still array, the obscurity.

venus, at its brightest,

comes closer now

to earth these days and nights.

venus, shines mightily

while on this third planet from the sun,

seemingly safe

in the brown clay soil and water

we remain.

Copyright © 2013 Nan P.

[Written for The Sunday Whirl and posted over at Poets United. The words for today were: flames, yearn, immeasurable, safe, inky, bend. waking, still, erode, clay, sheet, and pebble. They are all in there. I had started this poem last week and this week's words helped me finish it. Still in draft form, I may come back to this one. Enjoy your day!]