Laughing Dove Poetry

Laughing Dove Poetry header image 4

January 5

January 5th, 2011 by Tamra
Respond

Sunshine and cold wind; laurel branches lift and fall; new buds swollen, tight.

Tags:   · No Comments.

January 4

January 4th, 2011 by Tamra
Respond

The passengers rest, quiet like lumps of dough, damp and warm in the bus.

Tags:   · No Comments.

January 3

January 3rd, 2011 by Tamra
Respond

Drizzle-drops hang like baubles in the locust tree; geranium droops.

Tags:   · 1 Comment

January 2

January 2nd, 2011 by Tamra
Respond

Freighter sounds its horn; small bird hiding in the laurels scolds: tsk, tsk, tsk.

Tags:   · · No Comments.

January 1

January 1st, 2011 by Tamra
Respond

Frost rims red roof tiles. Crows raise a ruckus as red sun rises through fog.

Tags:   · No Comments.

The Dead Woman in Her Garden

December 17th, 2010 by Tamra
Respond

The latest prompt from Big Tent Poetry has been a lot of fun. Using Marvin Bell’s Dead Man poems as a model, we were challenged to come up with one of our own. I found this to be amazingly cathartic. The second part needs some work.

Live as if you are already dead.
-Zen admonition

The Dead Woman in Her Garden

When the dead woman enters her garden, something blossoms and something dies.
The dead woman, surrounded by both blossoms and death, settles into a chair in the sun.
Her clothes settle around her.
Her hair is in disarray, as if she has just awakened.
If she has just awakened, her hair floats in loose gray wisps around her head.
If a bird catches a long strand for its nest, the dead woman doesn’t mind.
Her fingernails are jagged and dirty, and she smells not of roses, but of decay.
She shoves her toes into the earth, like a key to a lock, and a mechanism turns.
The worms churn; the roots pump.
All over the garden, fruits and flowers clatter and rattle, spin and sing.
The dead woman hums along, taps her fingers in time against the arm of her chair.
In her reverie, she travels along the edges of her living and finds not much difference from the edges of her dying. Not a hair’s breadth. Merely a breath.
When the shadows gather at her feet, she shakes the feathers and seeds from her hair and fades into the dusk.

More about the Dead Woman in Her Garden

The dead woman walks through the garden and takes what she wants.
The dead woman walks through the garden and leaves what she wants.
She prunes what she wants and stakes what she wants.
Because she believes in weeds, she lets the garden grow wild.
Weeds, she says, will save us from death by uniformity and order.
She avoids dead death like the plague; dynamic death is her goal.
Death, after all, is all about life.
Because she believes in the worm, there is plenty of apple after the worm.
Because she believes in windfall, there is plenty of apple after the wind.
The dead woman knows all about cycles, but she also knows about escape.
She keeps the usual cache of tools.
Her scythe is sharp; her rake is clean.
The dead woman grabs her shovel and begins to dig.
If she digs deep enough, she will reach the other side.

Tags:   · 17 Comments

Poetry Gong #1 Day 6 – The Past

October 17th, 2010 by Tamra
Respond

This poem is on the road. More information soon.

Tags:   · 3 Comments

Poetry Gong #1 Day 5 – The Thing Is

October 17th, 2010 by Tamra
Respond

Today is Day 5 of Big Tent Poetry’s Gong. As you can tell from yesterday’s minimal work, I am kind of stuck. A block. A logjam. So, today’s poem borrows heavily from an excellent poem, The Thing Is by Ellen Bass. Here’s my version.

The Thing Is

to write it, to write it even
when you have no words for it
and the voice rising up inside
is one long howl, without consonant edges.
When the unknown rises in you, uprooting
trees and dislodging stones, its turbulence
more fit for a river than a throat;
when the unknown fills you, like your own fear
only more of it, with its logjam of unknowns,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold it like a leaf
on your palm, an ordinary leaf,
no autumn charm, no freshness of spring,
and you say, yes, I will take you,
I will write you again.

Tags:   · No Comments.

Poetry Gong #1 Day 4 – On Punctuation

October 16th, 2010 by Tamra
Respond

The inspiration for today’s Gong was On Punctuation by Elizabeth Austen. There are two pieces, a haiku and a sonnet. I don’t normally center my poems, but it worked really well for the sonnet. Hope you all are having a great weekend!

on punctuation

the older i get
the less useful it becomes
is my meaning clear

c

c

the misunderstanding

… , “………………………”

¿ … … … ?

¡ … … … !

!

c

~~~

) – :                : – (

) -`:            : – \

/ – :         : – |

c

-?

: – |      ( -`:

?-

: – )   ( – :

c

;-><-;

<3

Tags:   · · 4 Comments

Poetry Gong #1 Day 3 – you carry my heart with you

October 15th, 2010 by Tamra
Respond

Today’s poem for Big Tent Poetry’s Gong #1 is inspired by e.e. cummings’ i carry your heart with me.

you carry my heart with you

you carry my heart with you (you carry it
in your heart) and when you grow up
and away like a bright paper kite
both fragile and strong i go too

for inside each heart another heart
a string of hearts reaching back in time
to the ones who hold the end of the string
while we flutter and soar and dive

this then is the secret, my child,
wisdom and well-wishes travel
from heart to heart (from the depth of time
into today’s sky) no matter what the weather

you carry my heart with you (you carry it
in your heart)

Tags: 4 Comments