Guest Poet: Julio Cortázar


En el tabaco, en el café, en el vino,959-2014919155058_original.jpg
al borde de la noche se levantan
como esas voces que a lo lejos cantan
sin que se sepa qué, por el camino.

Livianamente hermanos del destino,
dióscuros, sombras pálidas, me espantan
las moscas de los hábitos, me aguantan
que siga a flote entre tanto remolino.

Los muertos hablan más pero al oído,
y los vivos son mano tibia y techo,
suma de lo ganado y lo perdido.

Así un día en la barca de la sombra,
de tanta ausencia abrigará mi pecho
esta antigua ternura que los nombra.

-Julio Cortázar


Challenge #4

The Prompt: Write about the feeling of: grass under bare feet, a really bad kiss, the headrush when you stand up too fast, sore muscles, falling asleep in the back seat of a moving car.

Falling asleep in the backseat of Jorge’s car,
Vivek remembers…
How could he forget her eyes?
Or the warm grass under their feet?
On that sunny day…
When she took his breath away?
She went to his head,
Like the rush of wine to the brain…
Or the headrush when you stand up to fast…
It all started with one bad kiss…
And then…
What bliss!
Not enough time…
Not enough time!!!
How his muscles ached to be near her,
But all he had was one kiss…
Then she was gone.
She had to leave,
On emergency business.
When would he see her again?

Looking out the plane window,
Erica sighs…
To be with her love,
Would be such a gift….
But now she is many kilometers away…
When would she see him again?
It all started,
With one bad kiss.


Poetry Challenge #3

The Prompt: Write about the sound of: a radio changing channels, a dog howling, a football or baseball game, your parents talking in another room

The radio changes from baseball to football,
As the dog howls to be let inside.
The team is losing steam,
As the parents discuss the night’s dinner.
Susie runs to let the dog in,
As she hears the announcer yell… “GOALLLLL!”
The dog goes crazy with excitement,
And the parents rush into the room with glee.
What a change in scenery!

Challenge #2

The Prompt: Write about the smell of: burning food, melting snow, the ocean, your grandparents’ home, the inside of a bus, pavement after the rain

A Winter Tale

Getting on the bus,
He left the land of warm oceans,
And the sweet smell of gentle rain on the pavement,
Taking the road to the cold north.
Glad to get away from the smell of the restaurant,
That always burnt food below his apartment,
Jake was happy to go to his grandparents’ home.
The inside of the bus smelled musty,
Was rusty, and reminded him of an old shoe.
He disembarked…
Seeing the sight of melting snow,
His smiling grandmother and grandfather,
And warm hugs.


Guest Poet: Christina Rossetti


Come to me in the silence of the night;
Come in the speaking silence of a dream;
Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright
As sunlight on a stream;
Come back in tears,
O memory, hope, love of finished years.

O dream how sweet, too sweet, too bitter sweet,
Whose wakening should have been in Paradise,
Where souls brimfull of love abide and meet;
Where thirsting longing eyes
Watch the slow door
That opening, letting in, lets out no more.

Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live
My very life again though cold in death:
Come back to me in dreams, that I may give
Pulse for pulse, breath for breath:
Speak low, lean low
As long ago, my love, how long ago.

-Christina Rossetti


Poetry Challenge: Day 1

I’m challenging myself to follow some interesting prompts and write some different types of poems.  Hopefully, I will be able to write every other day.

Today’s prompt: Write about the taste of: an egg, an orange, medicine, cinnamon

Here it goes…

Sick Day

Susan felt sick in her gut,
Had she eaten a nasty bad egg or what?
She could not keep down fluid,
Let alone solid food …horrid.
The taste of cinnamon,
Would be worse than bitter medicine.
Even a humble orange,
Would be too much to manage.
She was nauseous and dizzy,
And could not see.
How she wished she was well,
But when? She could not tell.
For now she must rest,
And she knew that was best.


Sound: The Forest

Amidst the forest’s buzz, chirp, and creak,
I chuckle to myself as I hear the warble and squeak,
Of birds that rustle and whirr,
And small things that mew and moan, and thud, and purr.
Sometimes a tinkle or jingle fills the air,
As creatures rustle, murmur, swish and rumble everywhere.
Sometimes you here the undertone,
Of a hiss, whimper, mumble, moan or groan.
Sometimes there is a growl or snarl,
Which make me walk fast for a while.
The giggle, fizz and bubble and groan,
Of the river nearby makes me hum,
A tune,
About nature’s croon.
Then at times the creatures’ sounds fade entirely away,
And I’m left with the whisper of the trees as they sway.
Come to the woods..out of the blur,
And let your heart stir.