The Other Me

2013 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 9

For today’s prompt, take the phrase “The Other (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Some possible titles may include: “The Other Side of the Story,” “The Other Brother,” “The Other Hand,” or whatever else you concoct. And remember: I really don’t care if you bend or break the prompt in your favor. My prompts are just a starting place.

 

Darling,

The me you see

Is quite ordinary

Not shy, not bold

Somewhere in between

What I once was

And the dream I hold

Where the curves of my skin

Are all you can see

And I wish I could show you

The other me

We all conceal

‘The other me’

Within ourselves

Its poetry

Withheld, it seems

But ever the pulse

Within our dreams

As we strive toward

Who we hope to be

Living in the curves our skin

With

‘The other me’

Darling, it is no good

I will never be

Anything

But

Me

And we

For all the air-brushing of poetry

Are mumbling, stumbling

Fumbling mortality

And if we could see

‘the other me’

And touch her face

I fear

There would be

‘another other me’

To take her place

© Janet Martin

 

Of Life and Leaves and Mysteries

2013 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 11

For today’s prompt, we’re going to write ekphrastic poetry–or poetry based off another piece of art or a photo

The melodies that filled the trees

Are scattered, splattered on earth-seas

Caught one last time upon a breeze

On farewell’s final ride

For in the free-fall of an hour

The whimsy of both youth and flow’r

Succumb to the immortal pow’r

Of mercy’s moment-tide

And one by one, like fallen leaf

We pass this way to rest beneath

The calling, sprawling, falling sheaf

Where death’s great mysteries hide

And none can surely know or tell

When is the hour of farewell

Or when will toll the mourning bell

As flesh and soul divide

The still-life pageantry of Time

Unfurls its little lilt and rhyme

A testing, wresting, hasting climb

In faith or fear’s control   

For, whether with earnest intent

Or bound by blinded ignorance

We, unlike falling leaves advance

To the home of the soul   

© Janet Martin

November Sweet-song

Writer's Digest PAD Challenge; day 10

For today’s prompt, write a poem incorporating something sweet. Maybe a cake or pie. Possibly a candy bar or pixie stick (you know, that paper straw with delicious sugar inside–mmm). Or move it sweetly in another direction.

Sometimes in November

I keenly crave

The salt-sweet kiss

Of sun-sparkle bliss

Rushing

In aquamarine wave

Sometimes in November

I lonesome-ly long

For the slow

Syrupy cadence

Of willow-sigh

And locust song

Sometimes in November

I patiently pine

For a mulled merlot

Of long ago

Sweet

Summer-tinted wine

Sometimes in November

I quietly yearn

For what will be

What is

And what will

Never again return

© Janet Martin

 Sometimes in November I'm restless with reluctant realization that the sweetness of another year is nearly spent...

 

November Beauti-tone

 Yes, even brown and bronze beneath blue-gray is beautiful...November's brooding beauti-tone.

Where once the painted hill had been

Of sumac red and evergreen

Of golden birch-leaf butterfly

A-glitter beneath sapphire sky

…and emerald-dew and clover-hue

Rushed out to where green brushes blue

November bleeds its beauty-tone

Of brown and bronze and cold, gray stone

The crimson crown of maple-crest

The gleaming gown of willow-wisp

The auburn and the amethyst

Of autumn noon and morning mist

Are gathered in a mixed bouquet

Of moments that are tossed away

The colors on the Painters tray

Are brown and bronze and granite-gray

Fair flowered frock falls from earth’s form

Beneath its sheaf the seed is warm

As sturdy smocks are buttoned tight

Across a girth prepared for white

Our gaze is drawn toward the plain

Where green of grass and gold of grain

Must wait beneath a somber gown

Of gray and bronze and brooding brown

© Janet Martin

Snow-mercy

Soft as a feather-down duvet

Spread over earth’s stricken slope

Snow-mercy ushers forgiveness

Whispered in diamond-frothed hope

Tender, where timberland huddled

Stripped of its autumnal robe

God throws a blanket of pardon

Over a sorrowing globe

Perfect, each scarred imperfection

Wrapped in a kindly embrace

Snow-mercy covers creation

In free-fall pictures of grace

© Janet Martin

The color of redemption was everywhere this morning!

"Come now, and let us reason together," Says the LORD, "Though your sins are as scarlet, They will be as white as snow; Though they are red like crimson, They will be like wool. Isa. 1:18

Supreme Satisfaction

Writer's Digest PAD challenge, day 8
For today’s prompt, write an inanimate object poem. Obviously, you could write an objective poem about an inanimate object, or you can write from the perspective of the inanimate object. If you can think of a third option, have at it.

But for the pounding hoof of
race horse in her chest
But for the salty silver
trickling silent down her face
she is as inanimate
as the mat that bore the action
Where now she pauses
for thirty seconds
of supreme satisfaction 

Janet~

White Night

White is an ether belvedere

Soft, swirling poetry

Of snowflake sparkle on the air

And earth a starry sea

White wraps the night in opulence

A quilted quietude

Of downy soft deliverance

And sacred solitude

White is the color of a sigh

When every prayer is spent

A spiraling soliloquy

Of laughter and lament

White falls not quite unlike the leaf

That drifted soundlessly

To rest within the frozen sheaf

Of sun-spun history

© Janet Martin

It is white tonight...

  

Keep Me, Gentle Shepherd

 

Lead me, gentle Shepherd, lead me

This old world is stark and harsh

If I trust in my vain senses

I will perish in its marsh

Help me, Gentle Shepherd, help me

Such a fumbling fool am I

When my feet would follow sinners

Point me to Heaven’s sweet sky

Feed me, gentle Shepherd, feed me

Fill the hunger in my soul

Be my Living Bread and Water

For none else can make me whole

Hold me, gentle Shepherd, hold me

Lest by pride I am deceived

And persuaded thus to wander

From the Promise I believed

Keep me, gentle Shepherd keep me

Place Your peace within my fear

Then, when demons try and test me

I will feel Your presence near

© Janet Martin

I searched out this verse today...

He will feed His flock like a shepherd; He will gather the lambs with His arm, And carry them in His bosom, And gently lead those who are with young. Isa. 40:11