From A Fairytale Narrator

Magic creeps in where it shouldn’t be.
That’s what it delights in –
The unexpected turn, the misspoken word,
The mischief to be made and gift to be given.
Magic will turn the world upside down, if you let it.

Sometimes that’s what the world needs –
A good shaking up so it can crash down.
Some windows deserve to be broken.
Some peasants are better as king.

And sometimes that’s what makes the world hurt –
Not all good things need to be destroyed.
Some old ladies deserve soft places to land.
Some heroes should never be heard of again.

Still, that’s life, or what we make of it.
You want a different story – tell it yourself!

Prompt 18 and 19, Hour 15

Prompt 18: The Beginning

Write a poem set before the world as we know it came to be. It can be set in the blackness of space, it can involve the big bang or genesis, or anything you imagine.

Prompt 19: The End

Write a poem set after or during the apocalypse.

 

Matter

Found a way in the desert
No physical markings or a guide
Walked a thousands miles
Left a hundred times
Always trying
Walked a valley in the summer
Hiked a canyon in the spring
Fall in the forest
Then winter snow it brings
Mountains tops of impasse
Rushing rapids flow
The raging water moves me
currents soothe me
and rays grow
This natural being found
In sisemic elements formed
The breeze brisk, sun kissed
Earth sifted
Creature adorned
Is never lost on this planet
Never forgotten in the sky
Or the galaxy for all the components of matter created
I

Hour 14: “The Land knows you, even when you are lost”

“The Land knows you, even when you are lost”

Does my homeland know me?

Child of the Gael

In my tattered, fading cloak, fatigued

Without the language the land gave us

Does the grass recognize me

as one of its own?

 

A child uprooted

From the sycamore and the chestnut

From the willow and the linden

From the long, deep alleys of  winters

From the brick, the slate, and the chimney

 

The land of my home knows me

A child of the Gael

In my tattered, fading cloak, fatigued

Without the language the land gave us

The grass recognizes me

as one of its own

Venturing (Hour 14)

The land knows you, even when you are lost.
It speaks for you when you have no voice.
It tastes you in each stride you take upon her,
The sweat of your body returns
to the elements of her realm.

A manifestation, an appendage,
an abomination bore from her most secret recesses.
You are a plague she created for herself,
she knows what path your greed will take, and yet speaks
to your heart to strengthen it, in hopes that it will be what you follow.

Though you may have wandered far from where you intended to tread,
Your coordinates unrecognized by the best of your instruments
The land knows you can never venture farther than where you belong.
For every part of you has come from what is all around you.

haiku

haiku

 

my aching behind

causing a big distraction

a poet’s nightmare

 

 

TobeTT  # 16

Hour 14

It approaches my own witching hour, 3:33

My lover grows tired.

 

Bell, book, and candle now take up

Then raise your cup

Renounce your lord

You’ll be adored

Raven, rat, and blackest cat

On shoulders sat

Sing your virtues

And take your dues

The coven maketh you their own

In stitches sewn

Bound by blood

Now don thy hood

Rabbit

I found the rabbit
Followed him to the tree
Alas, the hole is too small for me
Can’t keep going
Tried calling the rabbit out
He hasn’t changed much
Still wears the watch
We are friends now
He is showing me another way

He always says
Never worry if you can’t fit in
There are always doors
Made just for you..

You and I (Diamante, Hour Fourteen)

You and I

 

YOU

angry, bitter

hurting, screaming, fighting

man, warrior……woman, nurturer

crying, loving, writing

compassionate, tender

ME

 

 

(A diamante consists of seven lines: line one (A) and seven (G) must be nouns and opposites. Line two is two adjectives that clearly describe Noun A; line six is two adjectives describing Noun G. Line three is composed of three -ing verbs that describe Noun A, and line five is made up of three -ing verbs that describe Noun G. Line four, the middle line, ties the poem together by featuring two concrete nouns about Noun A …. followed by two concrete nouns about Noun G.)

Think It Through

It was a good idea at the time

But I didn’t think it through

Snap

Quick decisions without high precision

Now I’m in it

With a choice to quit

To give up

Forever before me

Now that I’m thinking it through

What will I do?

 

Copyright © 2019 by Angelica Stevenson

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