Alphabetical, male or female?

For dversepoets.com today, Mary and Kelly have challenged us to write from the opposite sex's point of view. What is it like to write a 'gender-bender"?  I found this difficult and ended up with more of a conversation piece...it is confusing to me how and who decides the names of natural disasters or masculinity or feminine names of events or things.


Winds blow across the bar
swathing through a town,
clouds gather from afar
spiral to the ground
To name a ship or car,
female in its sound;
for train or a dog star,
masculine is found

Hurricanes with gender,
howling like a hound
nasty stormy weather,
actors in the round,
Katrina not tender;
named chaos abounds
Malicious to tether,
stop clowning around

Mountains and volcanoes
press for presidents;
nymphs from the sea know those
kings, queens, both sexes
Glaciers and rivers flow,
planets androgynous,
Alphabet to and fro
or anonymous

Japanese death poem..

From seed to blossom,
bathe in one's place in the sun,
to the sea and timeless sands 
Orion awaits, 
the plight of twenty one grams


A Tanka to express my version of a death poem, suggested to us by Gayle and Grace and over at dversepoets.com

Lamplight

Anthony Desmond at  dversepoets.com is moving on with a new book in the works. He leaves us with several lines of his. We are to incorporate at least 3 of them into a new poem. His words are  underlined below; the rest is mine. Have a good day.























Once, your  sweet love enveloped me,
we played in the noonday sun;
golden grass has grown taller -
our story had just begun
Then you moved and I went away;

the sun departed and rain came to stay,

neon goldfish flashing 
in the pavement waterway
Shade like shadow engulfed me

and like a lioness with belladonna in her eyes,

I craved images of you

Today I felt the fluidity of your presence

when I heard the loons call your name 

It's been a long, long time -

but you are just like you used to be,
the same

You came back into my life for a day,

a lost love found me, in you

and flooded me like a lone streetlight 
amongst the darkness
to shine on what is true

Forgetting.

For dversepoets.com

This is a make-up for a prompt I missed two weeks ago to write a poem using the term "I forgot", "I forget"or "How we Forget".




I forgot what it feels like to be in love,,,
           yet I remember certain kisses
I forgot how the elephant raised the circus tent
           but remember I once kept a dime in my shoe
I forgot how Brando wept in "On the Waterfront"
           until I watched it again today
I remember when I was deliberately lied to 
           and when I learned to trust again
I remember when you carried me piggyback
          because I was barefoot over a rocky trail 
I remember your arms putting me gently down on the grass 
           like finding and losing the holy Grail
I remember the campfire songs so sweet
           I forgot candlelit small boats sent downstream
I forgot her birthday on Christmas;
           I'm sure she feels cheated each year
I forgot about the one Native American girl in our school,
           how alone she must have felt,
I remember her crippled, aged mother
           who always smiled at me
I remember the drive through the mountains
           as a young girl to the sea
I remember listening to a football game on the car radio...
           I remember it was U of W vs USC
I'll not forget the men I have loved
           How many have not forgotten me

A wisp of hair..

This is under 200 words...my first thought when it came to the subject of  "CHANGE', the prompt given to write about today over at  dversepoets.com   My, the possibilities are endless


Incredibly soft skin, a wisp of hair
a knowing look -
   wrapped in a blanket
Soft early yellow light gently fills the room
By mid morning the dew is gone;
a rusty bicycle slouches against a willow tree;
each day refreshed

By noon, citrine beams push up
a beanstalk reaching above a wall;
the playground explored,
lessons hammered in,
knowledge ricochets beyond the local fray,
Ideas are jettisoned across bridges of dreams,
to be spent or realized

Over time, joys and sorrows careen
in the blazing late afternoon sun
Much is given, much taken away
Passion and pride intact.
there is much to do,  one lifetime
to dance in the streets;
doors to the Library of Memories
are kept open late

Welcome evening shade slips
between streams of amber light,
bent upon a good heart
Moonlight trickles into eyes
incredibly deep, with wrinkled stories,
grey shades of light, veins of life
Peaceful rest, wrapped in a blanket,
 a knowing look,
          incredibly soft skin,
      .....a wisp of hair

Crab season

Home is the deep moss green water where eelgrass grows, where they walk sideways the floor. Their bodies are hard-shelled, spiny-backed, painted a blotchy raw umber with tinges of purple; they have cream-colored undersides. When cooked, they turn bright orange. I've looked into their beady-eyes, and wondered if they could see me and if they have thoughts or any idea of living dangerously.

Using a GPS, fishermen drop round, cage-like crates called pots from their boats, setting them 100 feet deep.  Filled with raw bait, they are left for hours. Crabs sense and follow the scent of chicken parts or anchovies, oblivious to the lines connecting the cast iron traps. Innocent of any crime, they are captured, prized for their delicate meat.

The men return no later than dusk, finding several crab, still pinching their claws, in each crate. Though females survive, are thrown back, so goes the life of many sea creatures. 'Tis the season of catching wild Dungeness in Puget Sound.

Without compassion,

nary any cause to weep,

boiled, broken to eat

For    dversepoets.com   today,  we are visiting the subject of Haibun poetry. First, in prose, a story of a couple of paragraphs. Then, ended with haiku which encapsulates the gist of the  prose. Referring to nature usually, and a more beauteous prose, but this is what came to my mind.