Penelope Connor — ink girl poet
Some days are rainy,
cold and wet, perfect
for holding hands
and for walking in.
Some times you will
dance in puddles,
laugh with me and
let the rain wash you.
Some how your words
can still confound, like
such heavy rain and
low, rumbling thunder.
Some one cannot judge
your distance, counting
wild beasts or southern
states, between silences.
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AUDIO FILE:
There is a peace
here in your eyes
with your hand
in mine and your
smile reaching
out for me.
There is a belonging
with my head
on your shoulder,
your voice in my ear.
There is a place for me
and I am home,
when you are near.
—–
AUDIO FILE:
Won’t you come home, baby? Come home!
You’ve worked hard and so far away.
I can feel the weight of the world
on your shoulders, over the phone.
Point that truck our direction.
Won’t you come home, baby? Come home!
We’ll be waiting, we will hold you–
wrap you up in our affection,
take your burdens and let you rest.
We’ve been longing to see your smile.
Won’t you come home, baby? Come home,
to the place where love knows you best!
We know how your heart loves to roam.
How you’re happier on the road,
and we know you know your way back.
When you come home. Baby, come home.
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POETIC FORM:
Quatern – 16 lines broken into 4 quatrains. Each line has 8 syllables. 1st line is refrain. In 2nd stanza, refrain appears in 2nd line; 3rd stanza, 3rd line; 4th stanza, 4th (and final) line. No rhyme scheme.
AUDIO FILE:
Today she said to me, just breathe.
I know it’s hard, but there are trees.
There’s a path here, through these woods.
You can find it, hike and run it.
You’ll feel better,. Just breathe.
Today he said to me, just breathe.
I know it hurts. You’re not alone.
Just keep sharing, and believe.
It gets better, if you trust love.
You’ll find a way. Just breathe.
Today she said she couldn’t breathe.
My heart stopped beating in my chest.
My lungs clamped shut, and tears ran hot.
My fears they came to shout at me.
What if it’s too hard for us to breathe?
Tonight these words play in my head.
Just like a song set on repeat.
She said breathe. He said just breathe.
I cannot breathe, she cannot breathe.
I cannot sleep, I lie in bed, and breathe.
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AUDIO FILE:
there’s a fire in your bones
and you play with the flames
and I love just to watch
you make them dance
I have never seen you happier
than when you’re in that furnace
but when you’re struggling
and your body is tired
the sparks start to fade
and I wish I could light
the fire for you again.
—–
AUDIO FILE:
Sometimes they fly by like
traffic on a Friday evening highway
and sometimes they pool
at my feet like Autumn leaves
and I can’t make them
move fast enough, but I try
to remember whether the hours
with you (and the ones away)
move quickly or slowly
— each one is a gift.
—–
AUDIO FILE:
the waitress laughed
as at her question
you insisted on paying
we could not swallow
more than a few bites
but as you held my hand
I was so hungry the world
could see it on my face
the full moon closed
within days — for weeks
I wondered to myself
what that might mean
now I know, that night
you left that place with
the moon on your arm
—–
#NaPoMo INFO:
For today’s prompt, write a poem about (or at) a food establishment. You could pick on a chain like Taco Bell or McDonald’s, sure, but maybe there’s a local favorite–or some special dive. Heck, maybe that place where you took your first date or got your first job. Have fun with it, and if you need to do a little research, go out for something to eat.
http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/2016-april-pad-challenge-day-16
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AUDIO FILE:
She said lost boys like her are free.
She smiled at me, offered her hand,
invited me to Neverland.
I asked myself how this could be.
She said lost boys like me are free.
She smiled at me and squeezed my hand.
Behind her eyes I found the sea.
I’ll never be the same — not me,
because lost boys like us are free!
—–
#NaPoMo INFO:
Poetic Asides #April Poem-A-Day Challenge – PAD #9:
For today’s prompt, write a hide out poem. When I was a kid, we’d build “hide outs,” I guess from our parents or other kids. An assortment of criminals (fictionalized and real) have their hide outs. But maybe there are other hide outs, like a “man cave,” “she shed,” or the local pub. Heck, maybe it’s the library. Give it a thought, and I’m sure you’ll find the right hide out poem for you.
http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/2016-april-pad-challenge-day-9
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POETIC FORM INFO:
The poetic form focus for my PAD 2016 Challenge is the Rondeau — 13 lines in 3 stanzas; rhyme scheme: ABba/abAB/abbaA (uppercase letters are refrains) Usually 8 syllables per line. For info: http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides/personal-updates/help-me-rondeau-help-help-me-rondeau-another-french-poetic-form
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AUDIO FILE:
Pen's Ink 