imagery

All posts tagged imagery

Fishing, 1945

Published April 26, 2018 by kdorholt

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This picture of my cousins (Alfred and John, I think) fishing with Grandpa Karason sits in my bathroom. It was a tradition Grandpa shared with his grandson’s, not me, so the photo holds an element of mystery and wonder. Today’s poem of five senses gave me the chance to write some of what I imagine.

The boys knew fishing with Grandpa.
The summer, simple Sundays
(after morning Mass then
scrambled eggs seasoned slightly
with pepper and ketchup)
landscaped with the lake
lapping shore in sure beats, lazy
but boldly beckoning belly bubbles
and tastebud tinglings
brought on by bluegills’ scales
shining jewels in the sunlight
like fish wore rhinestones
instead of wicked rough ridges
to be skinned off later
in harsh sure scrapes
of homemade, bone-handled
filet knife into waiting rusting bucket
balanced by the backdoor.
The intermingling of cattails,
earthworms wriggling in
Grandma’s dank garden dirt—
dug up in the dewed dawn—
and warm worn valise leather
all wafting waves of welcome
as both boys awaited
slight nudge of nibble
then submerged bite on languid line
leading from bumpy bamboo pole.
When the red and white bobber
wonderfully bounced in bits enough—
inviting their just-so jerk—
a mere wink of movement
in unquestionable capture.
And the patriarch’s
pat of praise on their back—
a papal blessing of pride.
A perfect catch!

 

K. Dorholt
4/26/18 NaPoWriMo 2018

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Summer Pinks

Published April 18, 2018 by kdorholt

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Today is a challenging day of opposites. We were prompted to find a poem unfamiliar to us and write its opposite using antonyms and reverse order of lines. (We use the original’s last line to be our first etc.) I found “Winter Trees” by Williams and wrote “Summer Pinks” from it. The Williams poem is first. Mine follows.

 

Winter Trees

 

All the complicated details

of the attiring and

the disattiring are completed!

A liquid moon

moves gently among

the long branches.

Thus having prepared their buds

against a sure winter

the wise trees

stand sleeping in the cold.

 

 

William Carlos Williams

 

 

Summer Pinks

 

Proudly playing against the heat

the incautious dianthus 

in unenduring summer

scatter their weaker petals.

Every ephemeral stem

stands wildly alone

in solid daylight sun.

All discovery isn’t destroyed 

without a secret

or single generality!

 

 

K. Dorholt

4/18/18 NaPoWriMo 2018

Sunsets

Published April 13, 2018 by kdorholt
Sunset in El Porto, California

The sunset a couple of days ago was really nice, lots of whispy clouds. There’s nothng interesting in El Porto to put in the foreground, just some nice ripples and reflections on the wet sand.

Another poem from a prompt. This time from http://poetryprompts.tumblr.com/page/4 site. Write a poem about a sunset that also uses sunset as metaphor.

 

What settles after spellbinding sunset

When the pink and watermelon wisps

In the horizon disappear like dust

And only the dark, and cricket chatter,

Or solitary call of a lake loon linger?

What gets celebrated if no one sees . . .

Slumber and sunset of senses

Drifting away from the dynamic day

Hours to honor self and soul.

 

 

K. Dorholt

4/13/18 NaPoWriMo 2018

Morning Geese

Published April 12, 2018 by kdorholt

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Morning sun beams a beacon on the spring scene . . .

The geese gathered once again to the fishing hole.

One female inches into the nest under the islet’s only tree

Its male ganders on shore, neck solidly stretched at every sound . . .

Ready to retaliate with haunting honk guilty or innocent intruder.

The pair call to one another occasionally over the slight chill

In love songs, I like to think, purely primitive in nature . . .

Intrinsic interpretation stirs my human heart.

 

 

K. Dorholt

4/12/18 NaPoWriMo 2018

Time Travelers

Published April 7, 2018 by kdorholt

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Ofkells Blogspot is an interesting site for poetry prompts. This poem is an example. It’s composed of random words from book titles off my shelf—and random the poem is! But the way the these words play off each other when arbitrarily put together satisfies me.

 

In the museum of my inheritance

the signature pearl is a secret island

briefly balancing Paris and solitude.

Fireflies cross bodies of Neptune’s blue

and capture a world of laddering lake songs.

 

K. Dorholt 

4/7/18 NaPoWriMo 

Bittersweet

Published April 4, 2018 by kdorholt

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In today’s poem, I’ve attempted to define an abstract concept (“bittersweet”) with a concrete example (my granddaughter’s first birthday party when her mom hung snowflakes with pictures of the baby’s year as decoration).  

 

A celebration of

sequined snowflakes dangle

in the archway from

living room to dining/den—

moments from the dazzling 

dozen months making you.

 

A winter “onederland’s”

singular shining sequence 

of simple snapshots—

perfect pictures

of a pixie face—

printed in my mind

tattooed on my heart.

 

Newborn bewitchment

to toddler tomorrows

“Happy birthday, baby!”

soon won’t fit you anymore.

 

 

K. Dorholt

4/4/2018 NaPoWriMo

Sweetness (NaPoWriMo 2018–4/1)

Published April 1, 2018 by kdorholt

Today begins National Poetry Month! Although I don’t know if I’ll write a poem a day this year, I wanted to be sure to respond to today’s prompt which ,actually included two,: April 1, 2018 NaPoWriMo poem prompt— write a love letter to a object from childhood. Write a poem based on a secret pleasure. Since it’s Easter, I wrote to my Easter basket in the limited time I had. I thought the topic fit both prompts. It’s sappy, I know. It’s a playful love letter. (Rough draft)

 

Sweetness

 

My only mine!
Senses still savor
Your sweet moments . . .

Ever faithful,
You would wait
In silent offering

Never wanting,
Always giving
Sacred, select secrets . . .

Each discovery
Divine, holy holiday
Celebrated, sanctified

On sight of you,
Passionate pulses
Sparkled my spirit . . .

Spring’s bright
Colors echoing
Cornucopias of joy

Hands holding you,
In nascent needing
While heart confettied . . .

Tender tulip petals
Tumbling, swirlingsens
Surrounding my soul

Easter basket,
White and wicker
My magic memory . . .

This love letter,
My thanks to you
Saccharine may be!

 

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