POP #5: For Valentine's Day

I know this anonymous face rather too well,
the thickening neck, the frown line between
pale eyebrows, pale eyes behind glasses,
now pale hair gone to gray.
I’ve been invisible since the 3rd grade.
About the only aspect of this face I like
is the smile that lifts the corners of my mouth
when you call my name.

This week's Poets on the Page prompt is to write a love poem -- the twist comes when the challenge is to write a love poem about yourself. I'm not all that daring, but it was fun as the poem turned to something unexpected.

Maybe all the chocolate is gone, maybe orchids have a sympathetic aura we know nothing about, maybe birds flock together solely to survive the wind, maybe yesterday was Valentine's Day. 

Orchids at Botannical Garden,
Corpus Christi (Feb 2016)

POP #3: Of tango and lost poems

Perhaps today's post began when a friend told me of her love of tango, and I remembered a visit to San Telmo, a small neighborhood in Buenos Aires back in 2009, a blissful Sunday afternoon filled with music and tango dancers in the streets.

I had forgotten the poem entirely but remembered the music, the dancing, and the photographs -- and so found this lost poem.

Sunday in San Telmo

She sketches a circle

with the tip of her shoe,
an invitation.
He nods his head,
accepts with a bow.
He presses a button 
on a boom box.

The tinny music of tango
fills the air
to the delight of passersby 
from the neighborhood
and tourists who have come
to San Telmo in Buenos Aires
to see in these dancers
those moments 
we now remember from our youth.

She arches her back;

he twirls her around,

their steps pause

and repeat,

their knees and ankles brush,

an intricate embrace

of precision and passion;

her head thrown back,

the music, the music revolves

a rondo,

and we are lost again

in the moment.

This week’s Poets on the Page prompt, posted on Monday, challenged us to look at a poem that we had abandoned in some way, revise it, and then share it. 

I thought about the poems I had written last year, not remembering even how many or what I might ‘do’ with them. Maybe someday I would put them into a little chapbook, or build them around family history,  a poetry memoir. So I collected them, rewrote some, organized them, and now have a working draft of 46 poems.

This once, this year,
these poems are not lost;
paired with photographs,
organized into a round of seasons,
these little troubadours
shine of this past year’s musings
and sing of light.

Stop by to read what other writers have posted for this week's Poets on the Page.

Or just maybe, watch the tango dancers!

Two November poems . . .

The first snow has melted but this morning is a little bleak. A cold and rainy early morning with folks already driving to work. Here are two morning commute poems, embellished by the camera art of Sandy Brown Jensen..

Morning Commute #1

My poem got lost
on the way to work
this morning,
fog-bound fields,
trees patterned against the sky,
faded photocopies.
A few frail yellow and red leaves
float above the bones of a winter landscape,
with many gray days ahead.

Morning Commute (Sandy Brown Jensen)

November Weather Report

Early Tuesday morning,
clumps of clouds
hang low over the valley
as if they had fallen -- like stars,
like dreams
too close to earth.

On Wednesday, gray dimples
fill the sky, flecks of light
at the horizon hint at the sun,
while trees shiver yellow.

Thursday, brilliant sun blinks
and twins to moon,
traceries of cloud
alternately hide and reveal the sun.
Wispy streamers of gray drift,
filling up the sky.
Pale yellow bands light up
the edge of the world,
now yellow, gray, and blue,
layered in morning harmony.

Later the moon rises,
a perfect circle in a glassine sky,
white shadow circling,
bright aura shimmering.

Oregon morning (Sandy Brown Jensen)

Sandy Brown Jensen lives in Oregon, writes, paints, and teaches creative writing and digital storytelling. Sometime in the last few years, she grabbed a digital camera and began to explore what she saw and loved. Her more than 6,000 photos are used with permission, available on Flickr under a Creative Commons license.She's also on Vizify, an interesting online profile site I know nothing about!  Sandy and I taught together. Just before retiring, I took a creative writing class from her and am privileged to be her friend.

So for those of you who are curious about Big Brother, the Internet, and your personal data, consider checking Vizify out. Apparently, you push a few buttons and an online visual profile appears -- all about you. I'm going to try it. Here's a neat background article on Vizify by social studies teacher Dawn Casey-Rowe.

If you're here because of you like to read or write poetry, and perhaps are suffering from withdrawal by the end of OctPoWriMo (a poem a day for the month of October), consider visiting Poets on the Page, a weekly poetry prompt each Monday -- with a link.

May your week go well.