Just To Be for dVerse Poetics

Today over at dVerse it is once again time for Poetics.  This week Joy has shared with us a bit of Edgar Allen Poe and Charles Bukowski to emphasize the impact that repetition can have in poetry.  Immediately I thought of a poem I wrote years ago that would be just right for this topic.  Please keep in mind, this poem was written far back in the day, before I got into poetry form, etc.  Hope you like it.

Just to Be

I look around me now,

As I sit and wonder how,

Each day I look to find the new,

But all I can want, is free and true...



I look around to feel,

As I sit the free is real,

Each day I look to find the way,

But all I can want, is through the day...



I look around me now,

As I sit and wonder how,

Each day I look to find the why,

But all I can want, is to see sky...



I look around to feel,

As I sit the free is real,

Each day I look to find the sun,

But all I can want, is to have won...



I look around me now,

As I sit and wonder how,

Each day I look to find the me,

But all I can want, is just to be...



I look around to feel,

As I sit the free is real,

Each day I look to find the me,

But all I can want, is just to be!


Petrina Lesko
May 1986

Meeting the Bar: Crit...

I wrote this a couple months back (July), have worked on a little technical stuff, but wondering what else could/should be tweeked a bit.  Thanks for any/all input you might have.

Life Played Silently

From within our shores of sunshine plays,
upon the land and upon the sea,
basking in the days of carefree ways,
games played silently, we all could be.

Simple words spoken within the hands,
havens cherished, explored, be thus shared,
Martha's vintage language of the sands,
a language evolved beyond presence cared.

Evolving days of lessons to learn,
schooled in hearts beyond from shores to main,
French signs transformed yet may we discern,
blending worlds within the hand explain.

To bring to this American shore,
become these words spoken - ASL,
from island families long before,
words shared with hands and spoken by all.

As all could be, no barriers would see,
for in those days, hearing spoke with hands,
to share and be a community,
to work, to play, joined upon these sands.

From within our shores of sunshine plays,
upon the land and upon the sea,
basking in the days of carefree ways,
Chilmark people... life played silently.

Petrina Lesko

linked over at dVerse Poets Pub for the Meeting the Bar: Crit and Craft

With Simple Grace

To touch each one with simple grace,
bow our heads with fear on our face,
of times in need, planted each seed,
fought for rights together would plead.

To see the world for what its worth,
looking beyond the dried up earth,
to nurture now, these plants some how,
tend heartened souls for all allow.

To walk today in remembrance,
for the ones lost and those still hence,
within your grasp, this place was clasp,
touched forever, free of their rasp.

Freedoms given beyond the day,
nurtured ways, come to you what may,
for tendered nights, and soulful sights,
given freely, encourage rights.

This always the voice of your ways,
to touch the world in such a blaze,
then the hours, we lost towers,
to grace upon our pure flowers.

To leave you lost, in his dismay,
crumbling beyond the words at play,
still in the fight, angel wings this night,
then lifting on morning breaths.. flight.

To take this soul with simple grace,
tears shed from eyes, love on our face,
of times in need, planted each seed,
embrace her gently now we plead.

Petrina Lesko
September 2011

Linked to dVerse Poets Pub for this week's Poetics...  In Memoriam

Just Moments Ago

Just moments ago with a gentle hand,
Tears fell here for were we to understand,
With softened ears you listened to our pleas,
Tenderly sifting hopes from simple dreams.

Guiding souls onward throughout all the days,
Empowering children, showing them ways,
To build their seeds into towering lives,
Able to reach goals if only one strives.

Never need raise the staff or the voice,
Integrity, morals for all the choice,
Twas dignity and grace forever shown,
Lending little ones space to be grown.

Just moments ago with a gentle hand,
Tears fell here, for were we to understand.

Petrina Lesko
September 2011
 
linked to OpenLinkNight over at dVerse Poets Pub

Beyond the Moment: Poetics

Over at dVerse Poets Pub Brian Miller has challenged us for his Poetics post to explore what can only be seen with a 'third eye', those things that can only be known, beyond our true ability to see or touch something.  His post reminded me of the tenderness of this interaction with a dear friend from a few years ago.

She sat lost somewhere

beyond the moment,

not connecting to

the drivvle of her

favorite show...

Somewhere far

beyond our words,

drifting into the darkness,

"Momma is that you?"

Stillness filled the room

as she looked up, around...

smiling at what was there.

"Her dress is beautiful,

did you see it?"

"Don't go yet, it's been

so long..."  Silence engulfed

us, filling the crevices

of the space around us,

momentary glimpses...

"She died when I was

five.  Wasn't her dress

beautiful?  I'll be with

her soon, you know."

She sat smiling, looking

upward...

A calm slowly overtook

her fidgeting hands.  The

television continued to

drone on, noting the

world of victims of

the day's burdens.

Special Victims

contrasting the quietness

of her breath as it eased

from her lips, tender as

the child's hand.

Innocence of childhood,

a heart broken, a

mother's love stolen

from her on that

lonely dark road some

sixty odd years ago.

Tomorrow we would

need to drive that endless

road to nowhere, the

scarred bark branching

out to hold her.

A single tear trickled

down to catch the

edge of her smile,

her knowing one

day soon they would

be together again,

forever.

Petrina Lesko

August 2011