Poetry Techniques

I participate in writing subjects at Helium.com. I am able to exercise my writing skills, and discipline myself to compose information I may not necessarily think of on my own. Part of this writing is rating the other writers. It gives me a chance to see how others are writing, and their views on subjects.

I was reading an essay on Poetry Techniques. It was very long, and very well researched. I was somewhat amazed by the amount of information telling poets how to write. I understand timing, rhyme, false rhyme and certain techniques. I have used them for creative writing projects in college.

But poetry is more than being able to combine words and meter. At least, for me it is. Normally, when I write a poem, it springs from a thought. I have a poem “The Dancer”. This did take a couple of years to write, because what I had for the poem were the last lines “Old woman sits in a chair, Her future recedes”.

This came when I was camping. Relaxing in the sun, I was thinking about life, where it’s going, how it’s going to end up, I ponder a lot. I saw the woman in my mind, rocking on a porch, hands folding in her lap, looking at the trees. How did she get there? All of her life played before her, and she was smiling.

When I write, normally, I hear the rhythm. As I put the thought into words, the computer keyboard becomes a piano, the syllables are notes, the pauses occur in the phrase. I sometimes go over it a few times, but honestly, it more often comes out just the way it sounds. Sometimes, it’s really good. Like my poem WOE. When you read this, you can feel the slow march of the Israelites, the heat, and the despair. The pace increases, and you can feel the joy. This is a really good poem.

I have a dark poem published on Helium. Today its number 236 of 1,337. That’s good. This is one of my stronger poems; I usually don’t publish the dark stuff. There is too much of it out there these days. Sometimes I think today’s poets have a mindset that trouble and discontent are the backbone of poetry. I don’t share that view.

Poetry is a dance, a celebration of life. Life has darkness, but it contains real joy, and fun. I just had a poem on breathing come to mind. Aren’t you glad you can breath? Doesn’t the sun fill you with hope? Misery passes. It really does. Oh, you say, you don’t know about my life! But really, I know about mine. If I told you all the sad and awful things that have happened to me, you’d sit down and be thankful for your life. I once read in a book about the Tree of Sorrows. When the people died, they were allowed to march around the tree with others, and could pick a different life. In the end, they chose their own.

This is a fun poem: WORDS

Never is a big word
Always seems so huge
I stand and face such verbiage
I am thoroughly confused.

Sometimes seems so normal
Maybe is benign
Could be fills with promise
Someday passes time.

What about the real words
Like yes and no and do?
Could be sometime someday
Maybe always never, too.


This is the dark poem APPARITION

You are an apparition.
Whispering worthy words into my ear
Wooing me with woeful tales of regret
Leading me to your persuasive prison
Where it is cold and dark
And no love lives.

Cold hearts, I know them well.
They cast their spell
And stand inside their walls
Believing they can live
Without touching
And have without holding
All the while, their hearts are molding
And dying, and they are deceived.

But they can’t care,
Because their delight is like night
And their smiles are darkness
Eyes filled with promise and deceit
They live in heat
That burns and kills the sweetness

Then suddenly, they are surprised
By death.

Flashlights for Christians

I was researching the writers market, looking for a publisher for my children’s stories. While reading the submissions guidelines, I was taken back by some who stated, “not interested in the current contemporary Christian market”. I have been thinking about why?
What turns people off about “contemporary” Christians? Contemporary can be defined as “belonging to the present time”. And maybe that’s it. Do Christians “belong” to the present time? The words of God can be applied to the present time, but they are omnipresent.
I am a Christian, and I have watched the current Christian mindset develop from the “Jesus movement”. There are been a lot of changes, but the most disturbing to me in the idea that Christians are somehow “above” the current culture and social norms. We don’t belong in the churches, building ourselves up and selectively helping those “in need”. I have witnessed a situation that, to me, exemplifies the disparities. There was a married couple in the church, attending each Sunday. The man regularly sexually abused his daughters, and was receiving “counseling”. There was a woman with small children abandoned by her husband. She was struggling to make ends meet. She met a man who liked her and was willing to help her in her life. She had a relationship with him, and was disbarred from the church because she was “in sin”. This made no sense to me. The actions reflected that attitude of that particular church.
For a short time, I was a member of the “helps” ministry. We went to the home of a single woman suffering from breast cancer and did her yard work. There was a lot of grumbling about how people wished they could get help with their yards. The “helps” ministry only lasted about two months. Almost everyone dropped out, because they had “too much to do”.
Now, this may sound like I am bashing Christians, but I am not. I am saying that we need to take a look at how we think about the current state of things. And we need to look at Jesus, and follow his examples. When he came to Peter and the others while they were fishing, he didn’t say “Don’t drink, don’t smoke, don’t swear, and you can be with me.” He walked up to them and said “come, and I will make you fishers of men”.
As I read the New Testament, I find that Jesus was very positive when he spoke to the crowds. Mostly, he was only negative when he was addressing the attitudes and actions of the “contemporary” church. Just some food for thought.
If the world is crumbling in morality and attitude, we have culpability. If we, as Christians, are doing what we are suppose to be doing, instead of raising voices about the decline and decay, we would be leading the way with really bright flashlights.

How to rest, and make the most of it

Sunday morning. A day of rest? Right now, there is no such thing. I am committed on all fronts. Working all week, sitting at a desk, fighting fires and listening to problems and issues. And crunching numbers. Mentally, it’s exhausting. But I try to mix in a lot of smiles and humor. At work, they think my sense of humor is “sick”, or “dark”, and they are correct. Like the other day, I had listened to and solved about a hundred problems, the phone was ringing, the computer was slow, and I felt frustration creeping up my back. I asked one of the ladies to go down the hall and close the door at the end of the hall. I told her I was going to run as fast as I could down the hall and knock myself silly, because I would get fired if I shot Tequila. Seemed like a plan to me.

God’s rest is not like my idea of rest. Rest to me is mindless TV watching, or sitting outside staring at the sky. God’s rest is trusting Him that everything is going to be all right. There is an internal battle for God’s rest. How am I going to get it all done? How am I going to pay that bill, or find time to read or exercise? How am I……? But, the truth is stepping back and waiting. Get enough sleep, pray, and do what I can. God is able to do exceedingly abundantly above that which I ask or expect.

So I rest in the promise. Sure, I still work, I clean my house, I walk the dog, I pay the bills, I watch TV, I pray, I read. I keep moving forward. But when worry scratches at the door, with those chalkboard nails, I hum a tune. Or sometimes I sing out loud, or dance with the dog. I change the course of the thought. And I remember that God is good, all the time.

Facing the Challenges of Life

I have challenges in my life, times of trouble, sometimes I am afraid. I believe God is good, all the time. So I choose to hope, I choose to believe. Sometimes I have to laugh at myself, I am no one really, another soul.

I am misled by my own passions, deceived by my desires, and I am inpatient. A Bozo, really. But isn't that why Jesus died?

Not so that I could be "holy" and walk around in a cloud. Not so I could sit around with others and talk about the decline of the world. But that I could bring hope. I know that we are bad and good, we do the best we can.

Hope never fails.

I hear the Lord, He calls to me,

"Believe Me one more day,

I'm on your side,

I'm in your heart,

I won't turn you away.

Pick up the laughter,

hold the joy,

Embrace the dream, and stay.

Grab hold the hope,

Protect your thoughts,

For now I make the way.

Like streams

Where none have been before,

Where desert roses bloom,

I am Creator, pure and good.

The way will be clear soon."

What is Woe

The Israelites stayed in the desert because they refused to make the decision to walk by faith, and not by sight.

Struggling in this sifting sand

with no firm ground below,

Among this crowd of nomads,

wondering in woe.

Wandering within these walls

of blue and white hot light,

Days spent walking forward,

Resting quieter each night.

Finding bread each morning

spread across the sands like dew.

Witnessing a stone be struck

and waters flowing through.

Following a column

lighting one step at a time,

What now seems so uncertain,

was it once so all divine?

My legs do not grow weary,

my clothes do not decay,

I follow, I am silent,

I do not know the way.

I'm curious about the land

beyond what I can see.

I know the land that's now behind

and burns my memory:

As fear and worry captures me

I ponder at my plight

Give voice to discontentment

And rail against this flight.

To choose to stay, or choose to slow?

But if I leave, where will I go?

Dwelling in the land now past

Freedom was my dream.

But in these walls of desert

what freedom can be seen?

I cry aloud, to God..

And pause. Wipe blinding sand aside.

I remember I was rescued

I walked through walls of tide.

My steps grow quick, a song burst forth.

I lift my voice, now strong.

I hear the praises echo

through this great nomadic throng.

I look up to the light again-

A steady constant glow.

And steady now my heart responds

That where it leads, I'll go.

I know now what is woe.

Tiger

Love is vulnerable and fierce. Love is like a Tiger, gentle and fierce at once.

This love I have for you:

It never leaves me.

Time can't touch it.

The hurts and heartspills

Take archers aim,

But cannot pierce the mark.

Love overtakes me,

Though I flee like a gazelle:

It is a tiger, and love brings me to my knees.

Dreamlike, love surrounds me.

While I struggle to remain in reality

It's visions cloud my eyes

And I am consumed with your nearness.

Sometimes I move inside your thoughts,

An alternate self,

Frightened, I embrace this love.

It fits so well,And silence does not still it.

Dancer

Dancer-a surprise reflection of self

I glance into the mirror

And see

The golden child upon the stairs.

Still smiling from beneath the cares:

I see my face, eyes wise and worn,

Behind the child's eyes,

Tinged forlorn.

I hear her music:

Memories lilting past,

Turning to listen

I see that happy dancer

Giggling on the stairs,

Pirouetting through the seasons.

Leaving the cement walking to the woman outside.

Smiling from the stairs,

Still the golden child, but not.

............

Old woman sits rocking on the porch.

She is only yesterday, her future recedes.

And in the twilight

She sees the ballerina,

Giggling.