Pythian Games

put on your track shoes and write the miles

Archive for the ‘A Poem a Day’ Category

Leaf for the Past

with 6 comments

leaf girl

Leaf for the past

Leaf for the future

Delicate

Living on the branch

Falling to the ground

Learning and growing

From seed to sapling

Leaf girl

Girl of leaves

Grow strong.



(c)  June Perkins, images and words all rights reserved

More work on   World Citizen Dreaming

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Written by pearlz

August 16, 2009 at 10:19 am

Posted in A Poem a Day, Gumbootspearlz

Tagged with

Pablo Neruda – Ode to Tomatoes

with 6 comments

Maybe this summertime poem will inspire someone else to write about a summer time food – if not, just enjoy Pablo’s mastery! Kerry

tomatoes

 The street
filled with tomatoes,
midday,
summer,
light is
halved
like
a
tomato,
its juice
runs
through the streets.
In December,
unabated,
the tomato
invades
the kitchen,
it enters at lunchtime,
takes
its ease
on countertops,
among glasses,
butter dishes,
blue saltcellars.
It sheds
its own light,
benign majesty.
Unfortunately, we must
murder it:
the knife
sinks
into living flesh,
red
viscera
a cool
sun,
profound,
inexhaustible,
populates the salads
of Chile,
happily, it is wed
to the clear onion,
and to celebrate the union
we
pour
oil,
essential
child of the olive,
onto its halved hemispheres,
pepper
adds
its fragrance,
salt, its magnetism;
it is the wedding
of the day,
parsley
hoists
its flag,
potatoes
bubble vigorously,
the aroma
of the roast
knocks
at the door,
it’s time!
come on!
and, on
the table, at the midpoint
of summer,
the tomato,
star of earth, recurrent
and fertile
star,
displays
its convolutions,
its canals,
its remarkable amplitude
and abundance,
no pit,
no husk,
no leaves or thorns,
the tomato offers
its gift
of fiery color
and cool completeness.

Ode To Tomatoes

Written by kvwordsmith

June 30, 2009 at 8:41 pm

Posted in A Poem a Day

Tagged with , ,

A Sigh in the Wind

with 9 comments

A Sigh in the Wind

My voice is no more than a sigh in the wind,
A falling leaf,
One among many,
A raindrop that doesn’t touch the ground,
A tiny bird lost in a storm.

So what does it mean if I am not heard,
Not noticed,
Not recognized?

It means simply
That I walk a different path,
That I shun the mob,
The crowd,
The social scene.

And does it really matter
If I find not the fame I seek
So long as I keep seeking?
For when there is nothing more to seek,
There will be nothing left,
Except the deep, dark void of inner space.

Vi Jones
©August 16, 2008

Written by woodnymph

August 16, 2008 at 2:44 pm

Posted in A Poem a Day

How Wrong

with 3 comments

How am I to decide

Which way I am

Which way to go

I come up from the water

From my icy oceanic depths

Clutching the jewels of my Mother

Gasping as air like fire

Sears my lungs

Threatening to rip me asunder

Silvery lights gleaming from above

Striking my naked flesh

Like heavy blows

I thought

I thought I heard his voice

And turning towards him

I swam

Loosing tail and fin

Shedding scales all along

Til up I scaled

Clutching sharp glittery sand

Here I wobble

On these two thin things

Struggling to know

Have I done the right thing

Good-bye to my family

Good-bye to my home

All I have now

Is this love still unknown

Written by Raven Tk

http://onthewrongsideofthemirror.wordpress.com/

Written by Tabitha Low

July 18, 2008 at 7:15 pm

Posted in A Poem a Day, RavenTK

What It Feels Like For A Mom

with 5 comments

As a mom

You are never lonely

Someone is always with you

Especially if you need to potty

Someone always checks on you

When you’re showering

When you’re sleeping

When you’re sneaking out

To wrap presents

Or just catch a few seconds alone

In peace

Then there’s lollipop in your hair

Which aids the dreadlock braids

Put in

Just before someone else tries to run a fin-toothed comb through your hair

There are always stains

Everywhere

On clothes

On furniture

On walls

There are also always lots of hugs

And lots of kisses

With plenty of slobber

And germs

And snot galore

To seal those kisses in

And no child ever feels better

Til mom gets that bug too

You always have lovely pictures

Painted on the walls

Sometimes on the floor

Plus you never need again paint

Your own nails

Or your toes

Ever again it seems

Or even put on your own make-up

If you can find where it’s been hidden

Either by you or someone else well-meaning

Someone tries on all your clothes before you do

Especially your shoes

Before wadding everything up

And shoving it

Way far back

In the back of your closet

Just in case you need it any time soon

So it will be safe and ready for you

And so you miss those stains and those tears

Because accidents have to happen

Someone always pats you on the back

Usually with grungy sticky muddy hands

At just that point

Where your brain is about to explode

You always get flowers

Sometimes from a store

But they are so much prettier

When trailing roots and dirt

Out of your own garden

Or the neighbour’s

And getting all over the floor

More than likely freshly washed

There’s no other thing in

The whole world

Like being a mom

There’s just nothing like it

It’s really just

The best

experienced by Raven TK

http://onthewrongsideofthemirror.wordpress.com/

Written by Tabitha Low

July 18, 2008 at 7:12 pm

Posted in A Poem a Day, RavenTK

Your Name I Know

with 5 comments

I know you

So clear

So dear

So thorough

You’ve been in my dreams

Whistling

Singing

You’ve come dancing with me

I know the feel of your breath

Soft against my cheek

I know the lilt of your voice

When your smile reaches your eyes

I know the taste of your words

As they stretch and they tease

I know you

You’ve been with me

Followed me beyond the Wall

Deeper

Beyond my dreams

Further into the Otherworld

Where I’ve built my Home

You’ve seen me

Hair curled and loosed

Threaded with silver and mica

Heard the chants and the calls

Brought up from my hold

Calling friends and concealments

You have stood in my circle

You have eaten my food

Taken that step even further

You do more than intrude

You are more than integral

You are now more Pure

You know my dreams

For my dreams are your own

I have Dreamed you

And you have Dreamed me

Together we are One

Combined and in seam

If only in this other world

The Waking World

Should we meet

written by Raven TK

http://onthewrongsideofthemirror.wordpress.com/

Written by Tabitha Low

July 18, 2008 at 7:08 pm

Posted in A Poem a Day, RavenTK

Cool Rain

with 2 comments

Stepping out of the mist

Rising up from beneath my mountain

There drips the cool rain

Splattering the trees

Casting aspirations at me

Chilly my inner heat

Clouds bursting forth

Racing towards the sky

Here I am

Water slipping down my sides

As I stand gleaming

Burnished in the great moonlight

Warm skin

Made temperate

Just before I too

Leap from my mountain’s lair

Streaming forth

A musical air

dreamed by Raven TK

http://onthewrongsideofthemirror.wordpress.com/

Written by Tabitha Low

July 18, 2008 at 7:07 pm

Posted in A Poem a Day, RavenTK