Will’s Poetry Blog

          Rescue at Sea

A toy boat fights against each wave.
A young boy flies in plane to save.

In the deep deep darkness a barn owl screeches,
And two dark trains pass quietly in the night,
And at a campfire a father lovingly teaches.

The boy listens intensely as he preaches,
Of love, of hope, and of might.
In the deep deep darkness a barn owl screeches.

He’s been here before; he’s heard these speeches
Of scorn, of despair, and of plight,
And at a campfire a father lovingly teaches.

The father turns to his son and with his hand reaches,
And places his hand on his head gently, just right.
In the deep deep darkness a barn owl screeches.

The father knows of the pain; the son’s emotional breaches
He hands him a pen and pad and tells him to write,
And at a campfire a father lovingly teaches.

He writes words of death and pure white beaches,
Of strength and of sadness and of light.
In the deep deep darkness a barn owl screeches,
And at a campfire a father lovingly teaches.

There it goes. My first villanelle!

Thanks for the challenge, Thom!

Thom Ingram challenged a bunch of us to write a Villanelle this week. I have had no idea what that was. It sounded evil though.

Anyway, I decided to take him up on it, since I keep breaking promises to write and share more poetry. Here’s the details from a posting on his website:

The lines are grouped into five tercets and a concluding quatrain. Thus a Villanelle has 19 lines.

• Lines may be of any length.

• The Villanelle has two rhymes. The rhyme scheme is aba, with the same end-rhyme for every first and last line of each tercet and the final two lines of the quatrain.

• Two of the lines are repeated:

1. 1.The first line of the first stanza is repeated as the last line of the second and the fourth stanzas, and as the second-to-last line in the concluding quatrain.
2. 2.The third line of the first stanza is repeated as the last line of the third and the fifth stanzas, and as the last line in the concluding quatrain.

Sounds relatively complicated, but it isn’t really if you see one (copyright Thom Ingram):

1. On the strings I strike an awkward chord,

2. a rhythm with uneven time.

3. But playing is it’s own reward.

4. When I find myself bored

5. I let my fingers climb

6. on the strings. I strike an awkward chord.

7. I would be an awful knight, whose sword

8. in the sunlight would never shine

9. But playing is it’s own reward.

10. and lets the weary ward

11. off evil spirits, quieted while I mime

12. on the strings. I strike an awkward chord.

13. I know, no one will never record

14. these cock-eyed notes, these off kilter chimes.

15. But playing is it’s own reward,

16. and the boy, the silly boy who tries is adored

17. for taking a shot, for taking the time.

18. On the strings I strike an awkward chord,

19. But playing is it’s own reward.

So, that’ll be my project for the rest of the week. I’ll post any versions I have daily.

Jumping Castle

A two year-old child
Giggles as he jumps
Bouncing in a castle
Of red, yellow, blue

He thinks he can fly
His feet are jets
Thrusting him upward
Soaring through the sky

He anticipates nothing
But the next jump
No frets or worries
No hates or tears

The essence of life
Is life in that castle
Finding our way home
To our forgotten kingdom

I figured the first poem on my official poetry blog should be something that I’ve come back to. Something that I’ve previously started, but never finished–the way my poetic journey has always felt to me.

Worship

I miss the sound of worship
Music pounding
Eyes closed
Hands raised

And I wonder what happened
Heart cold
Disconnected
Alone

Is it The Presence
Or emotion
Or faith
Or emptiness fulfilled

Like a man lost in the desert
My throat is parched
I thirst
I stumble

I’ll definitely come back to this and make a few changes. Just wanted to start with something fresh.