Three for the Road

I was on a roll and then it stopped. Since I missed a few days of posting poetry, I will include three poems on this post. 

This first poem is something I found amongst my mother’s things when she passed away. It is marked unknown, but I found the author through Google. I’m posting this poem in memory of my mother and my cousin, Ann Renee Maluska, who died at the age of nineteen. Ann was born on Easter Sunday, and she would have turned forty-six years old today. Happy Birthday, Ann.

Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep by Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do not stand at my grave and weep;

I am not there. I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.

I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.

I am the gentle autumn’s rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush,

I am the swift uplifting rush or quiet

Birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry;

I am not there. I did not die.

Free Verse poetry is poetry that doesn’t follow meter or rhyme. Excuse the rush writing of this poem.

Treasures

Treasures

I thought I lost

I now have found

In the written word

and a picture to last

generations to come

Sometimes we

forget distant memories

that made us who we are

Because of all the treasures

I have found

It’s the one I carry around.

The treasure of

being a part of you,

letting that part shine right through.

I thought I would try another invented poetry form. This is a Memento, created by Emily Romano. It’s supposed to be about a holiday or anniversary, but I didn’t write about either one. The syllable count is 8,6,2 for each stanza, and the rhyme scheme is a/b/c/a/b/c. 

Unabashed Lovers

Ignore the judgmental whispers

That pour faster than rain

No worth;

Words that form on tongues like blisters

Creating endless pain

Unbirth.

To listen is to give power

Losing a bit of you

Hush now;

Stomp out the negative flower

To continue your woo

Avow.

Piecemeal and Three,

Bea

Acrostic an Epistle

I didn’t post a poem yesterday, so today is a double whammy. The next few days are hectic, so I dug into my poetry folder to see what I could find. These poems are from last year, but I feel they deserve repeating.

Acrostic poem – The first letter of each line spells out a word or phrase, which is normally the title of the poem. I attempted a double acrostic that also ends each line with that letter.

Wear Tattoo

Whether we’re somebody big or a shadow

Everyone has a right to express their creative side

Anywhere on their body—a picture of Madonna,

Resting near our heart, or words from an ancestor.

The whereabouts of your artistic placement

Adds to its emotional want—your own galleria.

Tobacco grey may be the color of choice, or a light

Teal to fill in parts of a full moonset.

Oblige imagination and make your body a fresco

Or a secret message of graffito.

Epistle – This poem reads like a letter. It can be intimate or formal, and a declaration of love or thoughtful exploration. There is no strict meter or rhyme scheme. I wrote this poem after the 2013 Boston Marathon bombings.

Angry Ones

Hey you, dressed all in black!

What are your plans for that backpack?

Mother Nature spread her sunshine,

for us—a blessing—simply divine.

Unaware that dirty plans had begun,

on Marathon day, under the Boston sun.

Another dead man walking toward another’s fate,

never learned to live, only fostered hate.

Please tell me how it feels to carry such despair,

while others prosper from the beauty of prayer.

Will this violent act feed your empty soul?

The rest of your life, falling into a black hole.

This destructive day will last for all time.

Remembrance is for the innocent, not the crime.

The world isn’t blind to the Angry Ones’ disdain. 

We mourn the losses--overcome your infected strain. 

Comical and Grief,

Bea

Leader of the Band

Today’s poem is in the form of a song. Song lyrics have the same impact as poetry. They either move the listener to tears, anger them, make them think or reminisce. 

For me, this song has always brought me to tears, and I have never figured out why. Maybe the lyrics with the melody make me sad. Who knows? Anyways, here are the lyrics to Leader of the Band by Dan Fogelberg.

An only child
Alone and wild
A cabinet maker's son
His hands were meant
For different work
And his heart was known to none

He left his home
And went his lone
And solitary way
And he gave to me
A gift I know I never can repay

A quiet man of music
Denied a simpler fate
He tried to be a soldier once
But his music wouldn't wait
He earned his love
Through discipline
A thundering, velvet hand
His gentle means of sculpting souls
Took me years to understand

(Chorus)
The leader of the band is tired
And his eyes are growing old
But his blood runs through my instrument
And his song is in my soul
My life has been a poor attempt
To imitate the man
I'm just a living legacy
To the leader of the band

My brothers' lives were different
For they heard another call
One went to Chicago
And the other to St. Paul
And I'm in Colorado
When I'm not in some hotel
Living out this life I've chose
And come to know so well 

I thank you for the music
And your stories of the road
I thank you for the freedom
When it came my time to go
I thank you for the kindness
And the times when you got tough
And, papa, I don't think I
Said 'I love you' near enough

(Chorus)

I am a living legacy to the leader of the band

Lyrics and Poetry,

Bea