pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Tag: Gentleness

February 17, 2021

“Let all that breathe partake”

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

The nation I call home seems to be in an uphill battle to
love all
who disagree, politically. An underlying prattle rumbling
fiercely,
rattling as intensely as a slithering serpent that can’t help
but speak
its small mind, as it seeks to find petty points that straddle
your truth
and strangle your certainty: callously, maliciously, never-so-
gently.

© Marie Elena Good, 2021

*Title phrase from My Country ‘Tis of Thee

Poem within reads:

Love all
fiercely,
but speak
your truth
gently.

__________________________________________
This was my first stab at a brand new poem form, created by Candace Kubinec (Rhymes with Bug). She titled the form Waltmarie, named for Buffalo poet Walter Wojtanik, and me. The honor of this is more thrilling than I can express!

The Waltmarie is a 10-line form of any subject. The even-numbered lines are 2 syllables, and must form their own poem when read separately. The odd-numbered lines are longer, with no syllable count restrictions. That’s it! This new form is loads of fun, but is also quite challenging.

Here is Candace’s new form, with her excellent examples: Waltmarie Poetic Form – rhymeswithbug. Check out other poems in her blog while you are there. She is a talented poet!

Also, Robert Lee Brewer, poetry editor of the Writer’s Digest, highlighted Candace’s new form for his Poetic Form Friday feature on February 12: Waltmarie: Poetic Forms – Writer’s Digest .

Such a thrill … so humbling … so thankful …

11 Comments
July 29, 2019

MOM (a tribute)

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I.
You told me of the love in my eyes for you
when you first held me in your arms
the day I was born.
Is it any wonder.
I knew you, and had already experienced
the gentle warmth that was you.

II.
All my friends thought me the luckiest girl
to be able to call you mom,
even though you didn’t tolerate misbehavior
or disrespect. They saw the love right through
the discipline.  I tried to emulate you,
but it seems that isn’t the same as
it being a part of who you are.

III.
I saw how the mention of you
brought warm smiles.
Your gentle demeanor,
laughter, and love
were contagious.

IV.
I understand being an introvert,
and I ponder with amazement
how you dealt with that part of you.
You could have written a “how to,”
I believe. I understand more and more
the sacrifices you made.
The way you encouraged others,
and always had a kind word to offer.
The way you treated everyone
with the same level of respect.
Fiercely loyal to those you were closest to,
in ways that had to have been draining.
But we didn’t see that you were drained.
You would simply go “rest [your] back
for a few minutes,” or “rest [your] eyes.”

V.
You were my moral compass,
and still are.  I feel your nudges.
I hear your gentle voice. I pray
I inherited more of you
than I see in myself.
From womb to death,
and now beyond,
I thank God for the blessing
of you.

© Marie Elena Good, 2019

6 Comments