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Bridge

dentist-428647_640

Image: Pixabay

Bridge

The dentist has been drilling
deep inside my mouth
readying the pier holes
for a bridge from north to south.

My blissful gum’s been sleeping
through the whining and the fuss
but my thoughts are asking, Will it be
a bridge of beam or truss?

Maybe it will be a drawbridge
with spans that raise and lower.
Or a bridge that gives my chewing help
because it’s double decker?

Or suspension rope creation?
Cantilever or pontoon?
Will my mouth be full of cables?
Will I look like a cartoon?

© 2017 by Violet Nesdoly (All rights reserved)

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I’m not sure why this poem jumped out at me from my stash. Perhaps because yesterday morning I got a text from my dentist, reminding me of an upcoming appointment. Or perhaps it’s because it’s “Take your poet to work” week and dentistry is definitely a type of work (for the doctor and the patient, I would say).

Thankfully, the bridge in my mouth is inconspicuous, as is most work done by dentists these days… and painless too (aside from the wallet).

poetryfridayThis poem is linked to Poetry Friday, hosted today by  The Logonauts.

 

 
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Posted by on July 21, 2017 in Kids, Light, Poetry Friday

 

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Play with words

block-1549670_640

Image: Pixabay

Play with words

Toy with words and you play with fire
Gather memories like moss and kindling
Quartz against quartz, ideas friction and spark
Wisp of smoke is a portent

Gather memories like moss and kindling
Focus thought to a pinpoint through the lens of time
Wisp of smoke is a portent
Soon we will be warmed and fed

Focus thought through the lens of time
Harness the heat through wires and coils
Soon we will be warmed, fed
And pondering in haze of pipe’s warm glow

Harness the heat through wires and coils
Inspiration, like lightning, breaks the rules
Brood in haze of a cigarette’s glow
Tossed-away word can also spark a conflagration

Inspiration, like lightning, breaks the rules
Destruction is sometimes the corollary of illumination
Tossed-away word can also spark a conflagration
Burn a reputation like a politician in effigy

Destruction is sometimes the corollary of illumination
The smoke of a living sacrifice
Burn a reputation like a politician in effigy
The firecracker effect of one life on eternity

The smoke of a living sacrifice
Quartz against quartz, Word frictions, sparks
to reverberating bang of One Life on eternity
Toy with Word and you play with fire.

© 2017 by Violet Nesdoly (All rights reserved)

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Inspiration – Prompt

If I recall right, the pantoum form (wanting to write one) was the inspiration for this poem. That and the desire and pleasure of playing with words—specifically the word word, which has rich layers of meaning in the Christian faith.

Today is Palm Sunday, the day we celebrate the Word riding into Jerusalem in kingly fashion and the expectation by the crowds that He would reveal Himself to be Israel’s Messiah. How differently that turned out. Thankfully, that was not the end of the story!

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VintagePADThis April I’m celebrating National Poetry Month by posting some not-as-yet published poems from my files, along with what inspired them. If the prompt inspires you to write a poem of your own, you’re welcome to share it in comments. Whether you write or not, thanks so much for dropping by!

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Posted by on April 9, 2017 in Form poems, Pantoum, Religious

 

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Limelight

On Saturday the writing prompt at NaPoWriMo included a Paris Review interview of Kay Ryan. In it I discovered that she enjoys using clichés as inspiration:

I often find myself thinking in clichés. I’ll urge myself on with various bromides and chasten myself with others. When I want to write they’re one way to start thinking because they’re so metaphorically rich. For instance, take the word limelight, or being in the limelight—not really a cliché but a cherished idiom. Before electric light, they heated lime, or calcium oxide, to create incandescence for stage lights. In my poem, “Lime Light,” the limelight comes from a bowl of limes. It’s ridiculous, but it’s not nothing, not just a joke. It’s thinking about how limelight doesn’t work very well. You can’t do anything by limelight. – Kay Ryan (entire interview…)

It reminded me that I have a such a poem. Today it gets its place in the limelight…

Clematis blossom in sunlight

Clematis blossom in the spotlight of the sun (Photo © 2014 by V. Nesdoly)

Limelight

I am in the limelight
not the head,  red,
blue or black light
but the light produced by a flame
of mixed gases
directed at a cylinder of lime
this being not avocado or sage
kelly, chartreuse or pea
but egg-shell white
with a lens that concentrates
that light onto me
guaranteed to turn you
lime with envy.

© 2017 by Violet Nesdoly (All rights reserved)

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Prompt – Inspiration

This word-play poem  began with the prompt: “Take a dead metaphor and get specific with it in a poem.” It took off when I did a little research into limelight, which Wikipedia describes as:

An intense illumination is created when an oxyhydrogen flame is directed at a cylinder of quicklime (calcium oxide),[2] which can be heated to 2,572 °C (4,662 °F) before melting. … Although it has long since been replaced by electric lighting, the term has nonetheless survived, as someone in the public eye is still said to be “in the limelight.”

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VintagePADThis April I’m celebrating National Poetry Month by posting some not-as-yet published poems from my files, along with what inspired them. If the prompt inspires you to write a poem of your own, you’re welcome to share it in comments. Whether you write or not, thanks so much for dropping by!

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Posted by on April 3, 2017 in Light, Objects

 

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Concession (for now)

A few weeks ago Ed DeCaria announced that the March Madness poetry competition would be back with a new name (Madness! Poetry) and a new website (madnesspoetry.com). At that time he put out the call for poets to audition to be an authlete in the competition.

One part of the audition was to write an original poem to this setup:

Imagine winning five consecutive matchups to reach the Madness! Poetry Finals, then losing to your opponent in a close and controversial final round. Write a concession poem to be shared with your imaginary opponent upon her/his victory. It can be kind, mean, funny, defiant … whatever.

Well, I wrote the poem but then decided to keep my hat out of the ring and not enter. However, all is not wasted. Now that entries are closed, I will share my poem of concession as today’s Poetry Friday offering.

pun-kin-shake

A Pun-kin Shake

Concession (for now)

I see that I am bested
and I accept my fate
but give me just another year
and I am sure I’ll rate.

Twelve months of rhythmic exercise
of jogging iambs, spondees
of breathing hyperbolic air
a year of pumping ironies.

A diet rich in meataphor
poetic pun-kin shakes
served with sides of organic rye-me
limerick and lime breaks.

spiced with sage and cinnanom
cuplets of pear-ody
joined stickily with enjambment
and stanzaic all-eggory.

On such a regimen, I’m sure
to build poetic muscle.
But now farewell—to get this done
I know I’ll have to hustle.

© 2017 by Violet Nesdoly (All Rights Reserved)

Now I wish all Poetry Friday authletes who will soon be in the heat of Madness! Poetry much agile word-ability!

Here’s the Madness! Poetry Calendar to know when all the action is happening. If this competition runs like it did other years, readers get a chance to vote for their favorite poems and poets!

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Poetry Friday LogoThis post is linked to Poetry Friday, hosted today by Karen at Karen Edmisten*.

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Posted by on February 24, 2017 in Light, Poetry Friday

 

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