The prompt at Big Tent Poetry is to do something I haven't done in a while - an adventure - and let it stir a poem. So here here I am in
Dance Class at 59
Folded up my leotard when
I found myself pregnant the
first time, thirty four years ago.
Let go of stretch, reach, kick.
turn, spot, keep your unison,
lift, leap, rise, fall into the beat.
So I was scared, excited when
my granddaughter's dance school
offered a free afternoon of classes.
I sat on the floor, bare foot in floppy
pants and tank top, flexed and pointed
feet which have not forgotten the music .
Directions tumbled fast into jumbled
brain, left kick up down turn right, head
down, hand on hat, kick, spin, three steps
back, cross, arabesque. Confused, half
a step behind, backwards, I do not have
my old moves but age can't steal the joy
of sweating in a room swaying with song.
Victoria Hendricks
October 1, 2o10
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Illusion
Light travels faster than sound.
First impressions freeze illusion.
We see the fat, the graceful,
curves, the bulging muscles,
the bad teeth, the manicure,
the age, race, sex, style
before we hear the words,
the voice, the reasons, the
fear, the meanness, the resolve,
the superficiality, the hope.
We think we know enough to
judge before we hear the story.
Victoria Hendricks
September 30, 2010
First impressions freeze illusion.
We see the fat, the graceful,
curves, the bulging muscles,
the bad teeth, the manicure,
the age, race, sex, style
before we hear the words,
the voice, the reasons, the
fear, the meanness, the resolve,
the superficiality, the hope.
We think we know enough to
judge before we hear the story.
Victoria Hendricks
September 30, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
Something Different
This effort is in unfamiliar form, the haibun, a mixture of prose and poetry inspired by haiku.
The prompt from Big Tent Poetry is "Write a travel log in which you encounter a mythical creature. You can write the poem as free verse if you like, but if you want an extra challenge, write your encounter as a 'haibun'. Check the HSA Definitions web site (thanks Mary) if you want to learn more about haibun, which is completely new to me. Thanks Carollee for the stretch.
Secret
I search silver shore, dawn, dusk, dawn, dusk, seek dancing flip of dophin, peregrine, watch waves for unicorn. Dusk, dawn. Dusk, dawn. From sunny dunes coyote laughs.
Waves are only waves.
Full moon provides only light.
Real magic, life force.
Victoria Hendricks
September 20, 2010
The prompt from Big Tent Poetry is "Write a travel log in which you encounter a mythical creature. You can write the poem as free verse if you like, but if you want an extra challenge, write your encounter as a 'haibun'. Check the HSA Definitions web site (thanks Mary) if you want to learn more about haibun, which is completely new to me. Thanks Carollee for the stretch.
Secret
I search silver shore, dawn, dusk, dawn, dusk, seek dancing flip of dophin, peregrine, watch waves for unicorn. Dusk, dawn. Dusk, dawn. From sunny dunes coyote laughs.
Waves are only waves.
Full moon provides only light.
Real magic, life force.
Victoria Hendricks
September 20, 2010
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Kerry Sullivan
Cliche says all dead husbands are saints.
Truth is, I will never know you sixty,
never see you with paunch or thinned curls,
I have only the man I remember today.
I still have the man I remember today.
You told stories, audiences found you.
You illustrated on napkins, notebooks,
grabbed pencils, examples, metaphors.
You never could read a clock or a map
but memorized books about anything.
You learned languages as if by magic,
never installed a garbage disposal.
You chose me because I argued it is
as dangerous for head to run away with
heart as for heart to run away with head.
I chose you because you held me like
music or a wild bird, because you meant
it when you told me family mattered most.
You hated bullies. Adored roller coaster rides,
found sports boring but loved long walks,
claimed the Texas hill country as heartland,
Lived with passion, died with acceptance.
Cliche says all dead husbands are saints.
Truth is I'll never know you sixty.
Can't know how you might have hurt me.
I have only the man I remember today.
I still have the man I remember today.
Victoria Hendricks
September 18, 2010
Truth is, I will never know you sixty,
never see you with paunch or thinned curls,
I have only the man I remember today.
I still have the man I remember today.
You told stories, audiences found you.
You illustrated on napkins, notebooks,
grabbed pencils, examples, metaphors.
You never could read a clock or a map
but memorized books about anything.
You learned languages as if by magic,
never installed a garbage disposal.
You chose me because I argued it is
as dangerous for head to run away with
heart as for heart to run away with head.
I chose you because you held me like
music or a wild bird, because you meant
it when you told me family mattered most.
You hated bullies. Adored roller coaster rides,
found sports boring but loved long walks,
claimed the Texas hill country as heartland,
Lived with passion, died with acceptance.
Cliche says all dead husbands are saints.
Truth is I'll never know you sixty.
Can't know how you might have hurt me.
I have only the man I remember today.
I still have the man I remember today.
Victoria Hendricks
September 18, 2010
Autumn Rhythms
Autumn brings harvest
not only sobering fall
of bright dead leaves.
Next year's rich harvest
depends on leaf energy
released by flaming death.
Autumn sings in minor key.
Autumn rhythms tell truth.
Life depends on death
Victoria Hendricks
September 18, 2010
not only sobering fall
of bright dead leaves.
Next year's rich harvest
depends on leaf energy
released by flaming death.
Autumn sings in minor key.
Autumn rhythms tell truth.
Life depends on death
Victoria Hendricks
September 18, 2010
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Foil
Mortality makes moments infinite.
Never know which memory will fall last,
which image will warm or chill after death.
Mortality calls me to dance now, work now,
confide now, grow now, forgive now.
Mortality throws shadow, accentuates light.
reminds me death is muse, not menace.
Mortality makes moments infinite.
Victoria Hendricks,
September 15, 2010
Never know which memory will fall last,
which image will warm or chill after death.
Mortality calls me to dance now, work now,
confide now, grow now, forgive now.
Mortality throws shadow, accentuates light.
reminds me death is muse, not menace.
Mortality makes moments infinite.
Victoria Hendricks,
September 15, 2010
Waxing Crescent
Waxing crescent sets in September dusk,
Silver hope shines bright in fading aqua sky.
She rose invisible, masked by sun's full light,
glows strong, increases, with darkening night.
Victoria Hendricks
Septembr 14, 2010
Silver hope shines bright in fading aqua sky.
She rose invisible, masked by sun's full light,
glows strong, increases, with darkening night.
Victoria Hendricks
Septembr 14, 2010
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Handle with Care
Belief without action
falls impotent, futile.
Action without belief
flutters unfocused,
misses it's mark.
Powerful marriage,
belief and action,
for good or for harm.
easily corrupted,
essential for change.
Enacted belief flew
to the moon, had a dream,
exterminated six million Jews,
keeps talk show hosts shouting,
doesn't give up on any child.
Activated belief, like fire, water
creats, desstroys, kills, gives life.
Consider, doubt, balance, dare.
Check your mirrors, mind heart, soul
before activating belief. Then act.
Victoria Hendricks
September 2, 2010
falls impotent, futile.
Action without belief
flutters unfocused,
misses it's mark.
Powerful marriage,
belief and action,
for good or for harm.
easily corrupted,
essential for change.
Enacted belief flew
to the moon, had a dream,
exterminated six million Jews,
keeps talk show hosts shouting,
doesn't give up on any child.
Activated belief, like fire, water
creats, desstroys, kills, gives life.
Consider, doubt, balance, dare.
Check your mirrors, mind heart, soul
before activating belief. Then act.
Victoria Hendricks
September 2, 2010
As I Am
I am a serious person.
My voice cannot sing on key,
squeaks when I'm scared,
is rarely raised in laughter.
My voice commands attention,
absorbs panic, stills a room,
questions, requires, tells truth.
I am a serious person
Victoria Hendricks
August 30, 2010
My voice cannot sing on key,
squeaks when I'm scared,
is rarely raised in laughter.
My voice commands attention,
absorbs panic, stills a room,
questions, requires, tells truth.
I am a serious person
Victoria Hendricks
August 30, 2010
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