One Shot Wednesday: Poetry Week 22

One Shot Wednesday: Poetry Week 22

Welcome to One Stop Poetry! My name is Adam Dustus, and I'll be your host for our 22nd week of One Shot Wednesday.

While it may come as no surprise that things keep moving rather quickly here at One Stop, I'd like to take this opportunity to make a few announcements...

One Stop Poetry is now calling for submissions. If you wish to post an article, highlight an artist, or use our platform to promote a worthy cause; we'd like to here from you.

The One Stop Bookshop is up and in its early stages. If you have written a poetry collection, email us at oneshotpoetry@gmail.com Title the email "Bookshop," and if possible, include the ISBN code.

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*Contest Announcement:

Okay, this contest is non-traditional, promises to be fun, and even involves video skits... Our good friend Kseverny (Richard North), the creative one-man force behind the Arts Web Show, would like to read humorous poetry during one of his next episodes (TBA). I told him the One Stop Poetry community may be able to lend him a hand in a way that promises to expose the selected poetry to a large audience. In addition, One Stop will also post what he selects. Think about it.... Could you write a poem that will make us all laugh? If so, email your entry to adamdustus@gmail.com I'll send the poems to K without names attached so he will decide on the readings. Hope you will take part in the fun!

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One Shot Wednesday, here's how it works:

1) post a poem to your blog

2) link your poem to One Shot using Mr Linky, where you will be prompted to enter your name and the URL for your poem. The URL is the web address for your poem

3)Visit other One Shot Poets, as many as you wish. Tell them how you feel when you are reading, encourage and interact with them. If you wish to critique remember to be positive and constructive, negative criticism does not help anyone.

4) Tell others about One Shot Wednesday by including a link to this page on your post

I look forward to reading your posts.
Thank you for your participation,
dustus

One Stop Spotlight: when you grow into legs by Emily Wieranga

Through One Shot Wednesday, I have had the opportunity to meet many remarkable poets, one of whom is Emily Wierenga. Emily has the most incredible heart and she lets it flow through her words which are filled with love and faith. Emily also runs Imperfect Prose on Thursdays, where she invites broken people to spill themselves out. Here is a piece that Emily did just for us...

when you grow into legs…

by e. wierenga

he was all limbs as he rolled the sand-hill, baby squealed and clapped, banged stick to ground and daddy gathered son, spun him fast, all on a day of autumn when the gold leaves seemed rapunzel and nothing was anything but magic

((and when you grow into legs and you run sky-high, i'll be here, kissing air, waving love you, goodbye))

and husband told me breathless, they'd spent summers here, adults folded up top in chairs, scattered picnic blankets and smoked meat sandwiches and the cousins tumbling down ... and the winds of fallen acorn whispered yes, this is so, we were here, and the cries of children-past sounded in my son

((and when you grow into legs and you run sky-high, i'll be here, kissing air, waving love you, goodbye))

i dig toes in sand and wish to somehow save the magic in a bottle but boy is getting big, too big, to fit into small so all i can do is hold him at night until he wiggles free but that night, he didn't wiggle and so i just kept holding and he sighed as if with wisdom of growing old and i understood why my grandma always shook her head and told us not to rush things, because life does enough of that for us....

and i spoke into his hair, the color of trees-golden on autumn's sand-hill:
when you grow into legs and you run sky-high i'll be here, kissing air, waving love you, goodbye...

Moondustwriter Thursday - Featuring poetry by Neva Flores

Welcome to Moondustwriter Thursday

There are so many wonderful writers and poets that I have met in the Social Media Networking Arena. My friend Neva is a gifted writer and singer. We met in blogdom and share a love for poetry and singing. I can't wait to hear her country songs! Neva likens her writing to music : "I am like a musician who can play an instrument but cannot read music."

I personally am one of those musicians who can't sight read; fortunately musicians have ears trained to compensate. I wonder what it is that poets have? I think for Neva it is the ability to express intensity of feeling. Enjoy her poetry which is beautiful to the heart and ear.

Saddest Song of Old

A Poem by Neva Flores

Do you find yourself holding on to nothing
With absolutely everything you have
So afraid that you will lose
What you never had

Are you just letting go of everything
You’ve found so easy to obtain
While crying out for that
You wouldn’t want if gained

Take a look at what you have
Listen to its song
Perhaps you’ll find it’s the very thing
You’ve wanted all along

If you find you’re never satisfied
With anything you hold
Then your heart may be singing
The saddest song of old

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Why Withhold Your Hand

A Poem By Neva Flores

What is this perfection that you require
For your unconditional love
This you say you have for me
And put nothing above

The last time that I inquired
And established the meaning of it true
Perfection should not be a requirement
To receive this love from you

If you love me as you say
In this unconditional way
Why do you withhold yourself from me
Every single day

I ask this of you now
Please help me to understand
If unconditional love has no conditions
Why do you withhold your hand?

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Copyright *Neva Flores @2010
www.changefulstorm.blogspot.com 

Neva also has self - published a  work of Poetry
"Changeful Storm"

Thanks to Jannie Funster for the great MDW icon.
I almost forgot my weekly question. so here goes. When are you the most inspired??? Keep it clean poets. Moon smiles

One Stop Spotlight: Shadowstalking with Kat Mortensen

I am late! I am late, for a very important date! Forgive my tardiness in posting today. I have a very special spotlight for you. Roughly a year ago, one of my commentors challenged me to write poetry...for the first time in over a decade. Kathleen Mortensen, aka Poetikat, has in many ways inspired who I am as a writer/poet.

Just recently, she self-published her book Shadowstalking and she graciously accepted a brief interview and to share on of her poems with us. I hope you enjoy. ~Brian

1. You just recently self-published your poetry book. What advice would you give to others that are looking to self publish?

Do your research before you commit to a self-publisher. Make sure you feel comfortable with them because you will be working closely together. Get everything on paper and in a contract. Read the entire contract before you sign anything. I can't really give advice on online publishers except to say that you shouldn't have to spend money upfront. If they are asking for that, move on to someone else.

2. When you were putting together your book, what thought did you give to the overall flow of one poem to the next?

The flow of the book was always in my mind. I took great pains to select poems that I thought fit well together and by writing them out individually on cards, I was able to shuffle them around until I got them in exactly the order I desired. I think the book moves through a few categories, but I tried to have transitional pieces to keep it consistent. I also kept themes running through each of the categories. It was a very precise procedure and time-consuming, but I hope the end result bears it out.

3. What is the most unusual source of inspiration you had for a poem?

Many of my poems have come about as the result of something unusual I have witnessed, read, watched or heard. One that I can think of off the top of my head, is a poem entitled, "I Came Greymalkin". It was born after I encountered a cat at a bookstore in a town nearby. The cat is very rotund and I was struck by its unique appearance, so much so that it motivated me to write a rather Shakespearean piece about Greymalkin. The owner of the bookstore was delighted with the piece.

I Came, Greymalkin!

In Hamburg, New, on Saturday
I chanced to meet a malkin, Grey
Of pumpkin eye and pumpkin size
She seemed a harp-seal in disguise!
Or no! With showing of her girth and corps
The belly bulging broadly near the floor
I took her more to be an ottoman--
Or was my sorry state that blotto ,man?

Not so, for lo! The daylight, it was broad;
Forsooth she was no apparition, odd,
This pond’rous pussy shapely as a whale,
But quadruped with undulating tail.
Her shrunken head did seem to be so small
It didn't suit the seat of her at all,
I mused some runt must elsewhere, roaming be;
This puss-cat’s pate, outweighing its chassis,
And yet, in spite of this propensity,
Her bulk and mass of such immensity,
She swiftly swept from place to place,
Between the shelves of Upper Case,
To greet devotees at the door
Who spoke and stroke her as before.
Though other interests tempt her more--
What’s on her plate--not in the store.

Kathleen Mortensen©2009

Cosmic Bowling, A Poem by Adam Dustus

Poem  & Photo by Adam Dustus

Fever pitch, hold my breath

Veiling streaks shine laser-etched

Striking light for splits to save

Raucous chorus of kids through games

*

Mindless fun, we all need some

Adults drink beer, their little ones run

Mesmerizing these blurs that beam

Blink real fast, call it a dream

*

Scores irrelevant through alley cheers!
Gutter balls and lightening smears

Crashing thunder through stale smelling air

About the game, who really cares?
 *
Marvel at lanes, pick up despair

Talk is why my friends go there

Prompting smiles, making fun

Cosmic bowling, anyone?

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*The above poem was written from the prompt I posted for our first
One Shoot Sunday.

Stayed tuned for Round 2 of One Shoot. There will be a new picture prompt &
everyone is welcome to use & share it.
Cheers!

One Shot Wednesday: A Place to Share Your Poems

Welcome to One Shot Wednesday - where you get to highlight your poetic talents

I’m  Adam Dustus, and I'll be your host for the poetic festivities. Since it was so much fun hosting OSW last month, I jumped at the opportunity to substitute for Leslie this week! The support and energy for One Shot Wednesday has been great, and I'm glad to be a part of it. With that being said, here's a quick recap of how One Shot works:

1. Write a poetic piece & post it on your blog

2. Then let us know about your post. Link back to One Shot

3. Sign up in the Mr Linky list, linking directly to your post, AFTER you've posted it.

4. Go visit others who have signed up! Offer support & encouragement. Share your love of words and insight respectfully. Please try to visit as many participating poets as you can. We all could use and appreciate kind feedback.

Lastly, all forms of poetry are accepted for One Shot Wednesday. Everyone is welcome.

Cheers.
Adam 

One Shot Wednesday: A Place To Share Your Poems

Welcome to One Shot Wednesday - where you get to highlight your poetic talents

Here we go with another great One Shot Wednesday...
I’m Adam Dustus and it’s a privilege to host OSW this week!

Before signing up— a quick recap of how One Shot works:

1. Write a poetic piece & post it on your blog

2. Then let us know about your post. Link back to One Shot

3. Sign up in the Mr Linky list, linking directly to your post, AFTER you've posted it.

4. Go visit others who have signed up! Offer support & encouragement. Share your love of words and insight respectfully. Please try to visit as many participating poets as you can. We all could use and appreciate kind feedback.

All forms of poetry are accepted for One Shot Wednesday. Everyone is welcome. Feel free to invite your fellow poet friends to join the festivities. Let’s make this a great, supportive community! So on behalf of Leslie, Brian, and Pete this week—enjoy and help foster the supportive growth of our creative community.

Cheers.
Adam

Alone in the Chapel: A Poem By Adam Dustus

A Poem by Adam Dustus

It wasn't a Sunday

Nobody around

Not looking for God
Not trying to be found

*

Thinking about life

Spent as I tried

Remembering loved ones
Tears burning eyes

*

Been here before

Unlike deja vu

Memories circle
Spirit renews

*

While there may be

What many seek

Sensations, perceptions
Will often deceive

*

So why am I here?

Nothing seems clear

Alone in the chapel
Emptying fear


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By the Bay: A Poem Of Forgotten Love In San Francisco Bay By Moondustwriter

By The Bay: A Poem of Forgotten Love 

In San Francisco Bay by Moondustwriter

They were magnetized

by a timeless embrace

for fractions of a moment

*

his eyes  just as entrancing

hers glistened  like diamonds

energy surged thru the pair

*

a single silhouette

caught by the light

reflected on the bay

*

for that brief moment

transferred back

to a distant time and place

*

young love was all

that entered their minds

as they danced beneath the stars

*

the next instant they awakened

to wisps of fog

intertwined in their smiles


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Thank you Ingorr for the perfect picture

(http://www.flickr.com/photos/ingorrr/2224220064/in/set-72157600592075972/)

Paper Dreams by Talon

This week I thought I would highlight a very talented poet and storyteller, that happens to be one of my blog friends, TALON. I think her versatility as a writer is what appeals to me the most, but she is a great encourager as well. Many of you may have met her on One Shot Wednesday, but do pay her a visit to see more of her word art, here.

Paper Dreams: A Poem by Talon

In the fiction aisle "M-Q" weak sunshine

pushed through city grimed skylights

highlighting twirling dust motes

(their dance a lively movement

in the constrained silence)

as i shelved hardcover novels

with crackling yellow covers

And when a flower skeleton

fell from between the pages

of a heavy volume---

a whisper of dreams and memories

fluttering to the worn carpet---

I swore the fragrance of violets

lingered in the air...

Talon (ktn) c 2010

I look forward to seeing all of you for One Shot Wednesday,

brian miller

Drive By Dreams & Seaside Themes

Drive By Dreams & Seaside Themes:

A Poem About The Great British Seaside

I pulled into a ravaged street

strewn with sacks of littered dreams

and policemen lay so fast asleep

as traffic flowed past hooded thieves.

The rays burned hard on suntanned arm

that hung outside my limousine

and girls would saunter down the path

in skirts that length was gauged obscene.

My shades were dark, I looked the part

I cranked the sound of heavy beats

and summer sun would make me sweat 

as I cruised into another street.

And people stopped, I did not care

I pushed the limo in spite of their

glares that strained a disbelief

I shaped my hand and motioned grief.

They scurried past , I laughed aloud

and turned the limo on the crowd.

But now I cruised the boulevard

its palm decked lines of disregard.

The beats that pumped as people stared

that shook the car and buzzed the air,

and women ran in jogging pants

with cheeks that squeezed beneath the hem.

I carried on down to where the slots

and lights would flash and bring them in.

I passed the rows of drunken sops

whose kids were left to run amok

and chase the sounds of grab machines

stuffing coins in plush filled dreams,

high on floss and candy rock

and sugar stains on summer frocks.

And tattooed man would cross the road

eyes on me he tried to goad

I squeezed the gas and edged on near

as bass was pumped his eyes showed fear.

And Whitney stood and smiled at me

her man was weak and I was king

but girls can come and usually go

the limo seats are where they show.

Fake Las Vegas bars and dreams

and seaside towns are hardened things

I push the limo further on

into the world where I belong

by Pete Marshall

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image courtesy creative commons flikr 

http://www.flickr.com/photos/lordspudz/