Deus volt; Deus mittit me.

Sunday, April 19, 2015

Queen Mother

Happy Birthday, Mom. This poem is for you on this 19th day of April. (And, yes, I know your birthday was yesterday, but when have I ever been on time? This is your birth month.) I give you as one of your birthday presents this Free Verse poem:
 
Queen Mother

Before the sunlight 
Painted the ridges with vermilion
And sent the meadowlarks 
To wake the day
You were down in the kitchen, 
Making, doing, preparing.
You wove love into all you wrought.
You lovingly sewed life together, 
Mending, creating, imagining,
Filling our lives with blessings.
Not a thought for how you felt
Not a prayer for your own pains 
And disappointments.
If, someday I could hold you up, 
A mirror before my face,
True beauty would look back at me.
Deep magnificence
And loving grace.
You have earned your diadem.
Never forget the mirror I hold for you
And please know 
What is always in my heart
When I look at you.
If only someday I can be such as you.
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

Saturday, April 18, 2015

Gone the Day

It's day the 18th and I have chosen a Free Verse poem to celebrate all the black and white movies I've been watching as I lay on the couch drowning in allergies. They wrote and spoke more lyrically, more introspectively, in those early days. Sometimes I weep inside with the beauty of their words. Here's my tribute to them:


Gone the Day
Quiet, now, time to pay
The piper of today, that spinning, 
Dancing, cavorting player upon the pipes
Sleepily the night winged birds dip towards horizon
I stand watching the sunlight fade to gold-burnished indigo
The day has fled, drawing a blanket of stars across the velvet night.
I drink in the night only infrequently, refusing to lift my head
Gone with the sun, today's helping of rich potential
Departed, falling through the glass
As sand, mounding up
Never to return.
And I? 
Have I mourned
That tender gift of time
Which now is gone away?
No. Never sufficiently. I have paid
For my tomorrows with the sunsets of today
And garishly and carelessly have I danced away
The possibilities with which tomorrow lay festooned.
I crouch, instead, fearful of lesser things which I have wrought.
I wish I'd filled this day with the brilliance of a fresh-cut rose.
Knowing I shall never retrieve that which I have lost
A single, wasted tear, for nothing brings what
Has flown away, back again.
But what of tomorrow?
Await the Morning
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

Friday, April 17, 2015

Day the 17th--Bridezilla ABCB Poem

Today on the 17th day of April, I'm going to be a rebel. I'll do Stephanie's book spine poem maybe later. For now I'm doing my own ABCB poem. (Disclaimer: This isn't aimed at ANYONE!! I don't want anyone to get all irate and unfriend me or stomp off in a tizzy or egg my house. I've been watching lots of 'Say Yes to the Dress' episodes lately and some of those women are completely mental. Just sayin'.)
Here it goes:

 







Bridezilla

You in your pumpkin-shaped bride dress
With the perfectly matching shoes
Why must there be such annoyance?
You've got zilch, zero, nothing to lose.

It's not like your sweet little bridegroom
Will stare in disgust at the gown
And notice there isn't a butt bow
And stomp off complaining and frown

He won't care if the flowers are pansies
Or acacia or lilies or rose
He won't care if the chairs all have covers
Or the toasts are all written in prose.

He just wants to make you his woman
And maybe have something to eat
Then he'll whisk you away to the hotel,
Have fun and then go soak his feet.

Back away from th' extravagant bride gown
You'll only be wearing it once
Then you'll stuff it away in a baggie
And pay like an overgrown dunce.

It's only one day in a million
You don't need to break the bank
It's as much for your parents as for you
Maybe they are the ones you should thank.

Your father's the one who will fork out
The money for each little thing
So before you decide to go crazy
Try treating him like a king.

Your mama's the one who looks frazzled
She's been run off her swollen red feet
You treat her with great condescension
And then expect her to be sweet

Your bridesmaids have gathered around you
They've helped out and gotten the dress
Please try not to make them look hideous
Don't cause them to yell due to stress.

Let's remember the reason for coming
Together on this fateful day
And be kind and perhaps understanding
That's all that I'm going to say.
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy






 

Thursday, April 16, 2015

Day the Sixteenth--Arizona Spring

All righty then. It's the 16th day of National Poetry Month so here's a Spring Senses poem generator. I got it here.

Spring Senses Poem
Spring looks like _____________________.
Spring sounds like ____________________.
Spring feels like ______________________.
Spring smells like _____________________.
Spring tastes like _____________________.
And here's my poem:

Arizona Spring
Spring looks like sharp spines topped with an explosion of color.
Spring sounds like a mockingbird alarm clock (unstoppable, of course).
Spring feels like that first climb up to the top of the roller coaster before it plunges into an active volcano.
Spring smells like BBQ sauce and creosote and a dusty wind.
Spring tastes like the promise of a new day.
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

The Age Old Question About Dusty Dinosaurs

It's grammar poem day on this lovely 15th day of April. If you want to know the parameters, go here. (Doesn't Stephanie have a great blog? She does all the work finding these poems plus making up her own.)
So here's my take on a grammar poem:


Dusty Dinosaurs



Computer parts
Ubiquitous and disorganized
Crouching in every nook, cat-wise

If only I had a room of holding.
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy


 

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Two Weeks In

So on this the two-week marker of National Poetry Month, here's a Fill-in-the-blanks poem I got from Stephanie's website. The only problem is that when I click on the blank generator it leads back to my own site. I doubt I'm the generator, so I'm going to fake it by reading the poems other people have offered there. Here's my stab (I'm using my pen name):


Indigo
Intrepid, Intelligent, Introverted-ish, Instinctive
Sibling of Chanel 9, Seela, Chuckalabucka, Piano Legs, and Bass Boss
Lover of beauty-filled words, sparkling upon the air in rainbow conflagrations
Who fears the leaving
Who needs understanding and value
She gives of herself
Would like to fill her soul with the crashing waves and the whisper of pines
Resident of the Milky Way
Chase
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy
(There are plenty of pictures of me on here. No need to add another for this.)


Monday, April 13, 2015

Dia de Trese--If You Were a Dog

It's an If-You-Were poem on this 13th day of April. It's a 4-stanza poem with the 2nd and 4th stanzas rhyming. So here goes the If poem:

If You Were a Dog
If you were a dog,
Then I'd be your bone
You'd chew on my neck 
'Til the cows came home.

I'd bring you comfort
And fill you with cheer
And you'd bury me
In a hole about here.

I'd wait patiently
For you to come back
You'd unearth my goodness
And chew 'til I cracked.

Your teeth they would tickle
Your nose would be wet
But we'd be together
It's as good as it gets.

You'd wag your tail
And slobber and drool
But having you love me
Would be pretty cool.
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

If you'd like to know more about If You Were Poems, try here. If not, be a puppy...;o)