Thank you for the encouragement! I gained so much from this round, and also loved and gained so much from yours, which was so satisfying. Isn’t it interesting that my favorite part also involved yams 😂
..
Sometimes a phrase can get to you
But instead of it sending you reeling
It sweetly caresses you
Makes your heart smile
And your mouth waters for more of those gentle mushy words
Like setting your sights on the yam on your plate at dinner
You long to feel it crush inside your mouth and mingle with salty meat
And when you swallow it, it doesn’t disappear like a Mountain peak on a New Moon
Or dissolve like tiny newt footprints in wet mud
It lands inside your tummy and fills you up and…
Inspires love to pour back out from You in the form of your own sweet phrases
..
Sweet, edible words that metabolize into a deep, rich knowing. Thank you again, wise one.
Love it, LOL! Thank you so much. At first, I was like, "What am I going to write using yam?" But, the word yam, turned out to be such a fun word to use! As you said, "sweet, edible, deep, and rich." That's one of my favorite parts about the word poem exercises is how people use the same words, but it's always unique to each writer and obviously to each poem, it's fascinating!
but to feed from a sweetly burning desire for life
thick and honeyed like an autumn yam
freshly baked waiting to be opened with
the knife’s tip
flesh steaming with internal heat
a mountain of butter sliding in rivulets
deep into the hidden interior
I turn my head on
the outspread blanket
waiting
eyes half-closed
the earthy scent of warm grass
penetrating suspended awareness
A newt navigates across a stone slab
long forgotten by whoever placed it there
I follow its tiny stubby toes as they progress
across the gray expanse and disappear
and I wonder
what part of myself
has placed me here
in danger
like the sunning hippopotamus
I am aware of
the tiger within
and the tiger without
who will soon tumble me
who will soon test its will against mine
who will soon try break me
into shards of sweat
and pounding blood
and misted vision
But I will break myself upon my own life’s altar
until tiger howls and screams
of liberation and love erupt
and lava courses and cools and changes
familiar landscapes forever
I am the schooner in the harbor
waiting
for the typhoon to blow in
I spread my sails willingly
to receive the tempest
I think I am prepared
They say old lovers are forbidden
They say we should not wait
They say we should leave them
with the nostalgic bones of our graveyards
with their forgotten stone slabs
with their unkempt paths
with their sharp, crunchy gravel
still digging for blood
in tender flesh
The exercise was an unexpected gift. Boy did it surprise me! It also prepared me by surfacing some hard but necessary truth. The last two weeks have been outrageously powerful, clarifying, and liberating. Thank you so very much. Big gratitude also for the excellent daily weather reports which have guided me true through these stormy seas ♥️
Oh my goodness, I LOVE your poem so much!! I love so many lines, the whole thing, really, but one of my favorites was this one:
“ thick and honeyed like an autumn yam
freshly baked waiting to be opened with
the knife’s tip
flesh steaming with internal heat
a mountain of butter sliding in rivulets
deep into the hidden interior
I turn my head on
the outspread blanket
waiting”
Thank you so much for sharing it with us! And I’m honored that you have found so much guidance in the daily posts. To know that I am helping people helps me continue, so thank you for your support. Have a wonderful day 🙏.
Thank you for the encouragement! I gained so much from this round, and also loved and gained so much from yours, which was so satisfying. Isn’t it interesting that my favorite part also involved yams 😂
..
Sometimes a phrase can get to you
But instead of it sending you reeling
It sweetly caresses you
Makes your heart smile
And your mouth waters for more of those gentle mushy words
Like setting your sights on the yam on your plate at dinner
You long to feel it crush inside your mouth and mingle with salty meat
And when you swallow it, it doesn’t disappear like a Mountain peak on a New Moon
Or dissolve like tiny newt footprints in wet mud
It lands inside your tummy and fills you up and…
Inspires love to pour back out from You in the form of your own sweet phrases
..
Sweet, edible words that metabolize into a deep, rich knowing. Thank you again, wise one.
Love it, LOL! Thank you so much. At first, I was like, "What am I going to write using yam?" But, the word yam, turned out to be such a fun word to use! As you said, "sweet, edible, deep, and rich." That's one of my favorite parts about the word poem exercises is how people use the same words, but it's always unique to each writer and obviously to each poem, it's fascinating!
Waiting
I lie like the tiger in repose
my supple body still, contained
waiting
I feel the hunger escalate
enmesh me with its need
Not to draw salty blood from the hippopotamus
sunning on the riverbank
unaware of danger
but to feed from a sweetly burning desire for life
thick and honeyed like an autumn yam
freshly baked waiting to be opened with
the knife’s tip
flesh steaming with internal heat
a mountain of butter sliding in rivulets
deep into the hidden interior
I turn my head on
the outspread blanket
waiting
eyes half-closed
the earthy scent of warm grass
penetrating suspended awareness
A newt navigates across a stone slab
long forgotten by whoever placed it there
I follow its tiny stubby toes as they progress
across the gray expanse and disappear
and I wonder
what part of myself
has placed me here
in danger
like the sunning hippopotamus
I am aware of
the tiger within
and the tiger without
who will soon tumble me
who will soon test its will against mine
who will soon try break me
into shards of sweat
and pounding blood
and misted vision
But I will break myself upon my own life’s altar
until tiger howls and screams
of liberation and love erupt
and lava courses and cools and changes
familiar landscapes forever
I am the schooner in the harbor
waiting
for the typhoon to blow in
I spread my sails willingly
to receive the tempest
I think I am prepared
They say old lovers are forbidden
They say we should not wait
They say we should leave them
with the nostalgic bones of our graveyards
with their forgotten stone slabs
with their unkempt paths
with their sharp, crunchy gravel
still digging for blood
in tender flesh
The exercise was an unexpected gift. Boy did it surprise me! It also prepared me by surfacing some hard but necessary truth. The last two weeks have been outrageously powerful, clarifying, and liberating. Thank you so very much. Big gratitude also for the excellent daily weather reports which have guided me true through these stormy seas ♥️
Oh my goodness, I LOVE your poem so much!! I love so many lines, the whole thing, really, but one of my favorites was this one:
“ thick and honeyed like an autumn yam
freshly baked waiting to be opened with
the knife’s tip
flesh steaming with internal heat
a mountain of butter sliding in rivulets
deep into the hidden interior
I turn my head on
the outspread blanket
waiting”
Thank you so much for sharing it with us! And I’m honored that you have found so much guidance in the daily posts. To know that I am helping people helps me continue, so thank you for your support. Have a wonderful day 🙏.