LAST POEMS?

Not sure if I'm going to continue with poems over the weekend--I have written a slew of them over the past couple of days. I've told you the prompt and form I've used for each one . . . On a couple of these, I strived for a light-hearted tone. Hope you enjoy!

Prompt: From devotional reading

Form: Haiku

MATTHEW 11:29

Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. Matt 11:29, Message

God’s grace unformed speaks

Rhythmic spasms of mercy

Lightening my heart

 ************

Prompt: well-known song

Form: Parody

HERE AND THERE

I know an author who writes a word

And “there” is the right word, yes.

T-h-e-r-e

t-h-e-r-e

t-h-e-r-e

And “there” is the right word, yes

I know an author who writes a word

And “there” is the right word, yes.

  -h-e-r-e

  -h-e-r-e

 -h-e-r-e

And “here” is the right word, yes

I know an author who writes a word

And “here” is the right word, yes.

    -e-r-e

    -e-r-e

    -e-r-e

And “ere” is the right word, yes

I know an author who writes a word

And “ere” is the right word, yes.

      -r-e

      -r-e

      -r-e

And “re” is the right word, yes

I know an author who writes a word

And “re” is the right word, yes.

        -e

        -e

        -e

And “e” is the right word, yes

 **************

Prompt: Write a poem about yourself in which nothing is true.

Form: Acronym

DARLENE FRANKLIN—NOT

D       rop out

A       ctive

R        ich

L        efty

E        uropean

N       ot schooled

E        agle-eyed

H       ateful

F        rugal

R        epublican

A       thlete

N       arrow-minded

K        now-it-all

L        arge family

I        ndependent

N       eat

*************

Prompt: single-word, “waste”

Form: used the form suggested by the quote, /--/-- first line /--/--  second line, rhymes with first.

WASTE

“Use it up, wear it out,

Make do, or do without.”

Wisdom oft spoken by

Parents not known to lie.

War’s sacrifices, the

Greatest paid, heart and head

Child of the Fifties went

Broke before monthly rent

Waste was our middle name

Saving a foolish game

************* 

Prompt: picture (can't find now. A toadstool with a white trunk and red top)

Form: free form

SHELTER

I come from a long line of brown-roofed homes,

uniform, safe—uninteresting

I hike for miles over coffee-colored ground

Passing through a forest of conformity

In the distance I see a single red square

I hurdle myself end over end

Seeking that vision of red-over-white

Leaving rainbow dust in my wake

MORE POEMS

On Tuesday we enjoyed a "Give me a hug" day. These are my thoughts, answering who, what, when, where, and why:

Workers and residents alike
Hugs given and received
Mid-afternoon doldrums
TV blares, residents sleep, lobby tables empty
Fulfilling hearts’ need for a human touch.


Then the familiar haiku form, inspired by Matthew 11:29 from the Message: Learn the unforced rhythms of grace:

God’s grace unforced speaks
Rhythmic spasms of mercy
Lightening my heart

ANOTHER MOMENT IN TIME

The challenge yesterday was to write a poem about a moment in time. I wrote to Rosa Parks, and Martin Luther King. Today, I wrote about another moment in time. When my life as it was ended and then started again. Call it an early "Dancing With Grief" offering.

THE DAY MY DAUGTER DIED
Jolene Elizabeth Franklin
March 13, 2008


I
wait by
the phone late
into the night.
Tick, tock, my heart grows
colder with ev’ry beat.
Will the police never call?
Mother retreats, perchance to dream.
Facebook friends join my pain-filled vigil.
Coroner’s office on caller I.D.
Time freezes, my heart stops. I demand
answers--How? When? Not asking the
most important question: Why?
It cannot be answered.
Dead. Three Days. Hanging.
I disconnect.
“She’s dead, Mom!”
Wailing
Grief

Darlene Franklin copyright 2014

IN HONOR OF MLK DAY

I'm taking a break from my regular-scheduled novel writing this week and dabbling in poetry. As always, I love to share!


MONTGOMERY, ALABAMA (1955)

By

Darlene Franklin

Rosa Parks sits down
Bus in southern town
One act, one day, forever
Preacher King stands up
Movement swells, grows up
One act, one day, forever
No longer bisected,
Freedom perfected,
One act, one day, forever
Child hears and child dreams
We can, voters scream
One act, one day, forever


Background: I lived in Alabama during the months of the boycott (I spent the entire rest of my growing up years in New England). And MLK has always been one of my heroes.

ENNUI

A fancy French word, ah-nwee sounds like the vague feelings of dissatisfaction and boredom that have set in. Typical January fare, especially since I am four months away from my next deadline, so no pressing need to write.

The place where I live changed ownership. They have restructured the rooms so that everyone lives in half of the building, and we all have roommates. They left me without a roommate longer than most, but when they gave me one, well, she was a doozy. I won't go into specifics, only that she reminded me of Jolene's constant neediness. After two weeks of enduring the situation, I decided I needed a change. So I changed rooms. My new roommate would probably rather be alone (wouldn't we all?),but I feel sure that we will reach an arrangement agreeable to both of us. Still, the changes have taken their toll and I'm not sleeping as well as I have been.

Christmas turned out great, New Year's was okay. Today I get to watch my beloved Broncos to take on the New England Patriots in the hopes of returning to the Super Bowl for the first time in the post-John Elway era.

On the writing front, good news. I have the May 15th deadline; I have submitted a proposal for a May 1st novella, another editor interested in a different novella, and an editor who wants to see my written-but-not-edited mss of Colorado Highland Hearts.

Until I hear back on the novellas, I need to work on my May 15th deadline. Like any new book, I face the fear of the blank page. This time around I face a couple of other hurdles: I am feeling a little dissatisfied of writing the short romance and would like a challenge; and the challenge of writing this story comes from writing about a single mom with a troubled teen--a situation that falls close to home.

So your prayers, as always, are appreciated. That I will build up my roommate and not knock her down. That I will be faithful to write the stories God has given me, to the best of my ability. That I will write this current story to encourage those single moms (or married moms, for that matter) who struggle with a troubled child, with truth and hope.

Oh, and that I will know which open door to enter. :)