Emergency

_Ambulance_.jpg

Look, I know what happened

Here.  It’s summer.  Remember,

How we freeze in winter?  Well,

In summer, it’s too hot.

She collapsed.  She hit her head.

 

She feels light headed, her vision

Drifting like a cloud.  Someone,

The teacher maybe, asks her

A question.  No, she says,

She’s fine.  No, no water,

She says.  Someone helps

Her to sit.  She collapses,

Hits her head.  No, she says,

I’m fine, don’t call my husband.

 

They come, the EMTs, ten

Or a dozen, no one counts

As they beehive around

The still form, taking vitals,

Setting up a stretcher.

Three fire engines wait

Outside the door.  They

Rush her to the hospital.

 

We all wonder what

Happened.

 

C.J. Prince

                ©2018

A Kenning of Bones

 

 

 moon, bay, tree silhouette

She ken his foot-rhythm

but did not turn.

The opal of the night

would reveal him soon enough.

Before stars succumb to Kephera’s gift,

they will stand unwoven,

sink to silent moss.

Throats cannot contain ecstasy.

C.J. Prince

©2016

Darkness of Sorrow

purple hyacinth

Darkness of Sorrow

 

I am the scent of purple hyacinth,

the mist courting moon,

an unfurled floribunda.

 

I am the blue of lake

sucked into heaven,

the memory of withered amaryllis.

Like the moon, I shine

even when you can’t see me.

C.J. Prince

©2016

Dear Muse,

purple pointy toed shoe

Dear Muse,

You stand there, elegant as Butterfly Woman,

a halo of white lilies in your pale,  gossamer locks.

Skirts of aubergine and amber synonyms swirl

in the breeze of lip licking meter.

You stir the cauldron of dictionaries, words

that never touch my ears.  I see you

toss in the rosemary of metaphor, a pinch

of saucy simile, a waft of allegory,

followed by a taste of alliteration.

You lift a wooden ladle to your lips.

A fleeting frown.    Deep in your apron

pocket, you call forth the nutmeg

of language, a foreign word, a bliss

of chocolate rhyme.   Your ephemeral

cookbook shimmers with the suggestion

of couplet. You dribble a hint of haiku,

three drops of rhythm,  a twinkle of sonnet,

a repetition of villanelle, a glossary

of mouth-watering Anglo Saxon,

a sprinkle of anonymous antonyms,

a smidge of stardust.

You peer through the amber vial

of Latin and allow three drops to fall.

Bring to a boil, simmer and chuckle.

Then your purple, velvet pointed pumps,

dainty on my window sill, waken

me to the breath of the unexpected.

I remain your faithful servant.

~C.J. Prince

©2015

A Kabballah of Stones

Prompt for Day 10:  Now for today’s prompt (optional, as always): Today I challenge you to write an abecedarian poem – a poem with a structure derived from the alphabet. There are a couple of ways of doing this. You could write a poem of 26 words, in which each word begins with a successive letter of the alphabet. You could write a poem of 26 lines, where each line begins with a successive letter.

 SONY DSC

A Kabballah of Stones

Another

Breathless

Collection

Danburite

Ephiphany

Flourite

Garnet

Hematite

Iolite

Jamboree

Kunzite

Lithic

Mountains

Nummite

Oceans

Peridot

Quartz

Ruby

Sapphire

Tourmaline

Unakite

Volcanic

Wulfenite

Xciting

Yearning

Zoisite

~C.J. Prince

©2015

Space Between Keyholes

Today’s Prompt:  Day Eight: today I challenge you to write a palinode. And what’s that? It’s a poem in which the poet retracts a statement made in an earlier poem. You could take that route or, if you don’t have an actual poetically-expressed statement you want to retract, maybe you could write a poem in which you explain your reasons for changing your mind about something. It could be anything from how you decided that you like anchovies after all to how you decided that annoying girl was actually cool enough that you married her.

I didn’t really do this but followed the concept and the following emerged.

A few pinpricks in the dark sky

Space Between Keyholes

     After Neil de Grasse Tyson

 If there were no stars,

no hydrogen, helium, carbon,

no moon, nor silicon and nitrogen, et al,

no meteors or explosions in space

where elemental thieves own

the universes, an un-natural

habit.  What you need,

entrance to hotels, no back doors,

when integrity longs for moral fiber,

an amalgamation, collaborating

to peer through telescopes of hope

to find a galaxy cluster

where gravity collects us

into the evolution of love.

Above all else, love.

~C.J. Prince

©2015

Orion Guards the Portal

The prompt for today was relatively simple:  and write a poem about the stars.

Here is my quasi-location poem about Orion.

orion-picture orion

Orion Guards the Portal

You ask how to get to heaven.

It all depends on where you are.

Drive south on Parker Road,

you know the one

they used to call “the death highway.”

When you hit the light in Franktown,

there, where two lanes from Castle Rock

form the crossroad from the west,

you take a deep breath.

On the green light, hang a left.

As you head up the hill through ponderosas,

look up.  You’ll see the Sky Guardian.

Ancients called him the Light of Heaven.

Orion opens the portal

as you drive toward Colorado’s Outback

where yucca and rabbit brush claim the earth,

where little arroyos of secrets hide,

and foundation stones of ghost towns

withhold stories long forgotten.

Now, I walk down my driveway at midnight,

and look up.  His belt shimmers

as if I’d just polished it.

Now he guards me between cedar and fir.

~C.J. Prince

© 2015

River of Syrup: a homophonic translation April 23, 2014

NaPoWriMo PROMPT:  

Today’s prompt (optional, as always), is an oldie-but-a-goodie: the homophonic translation. Find a poem in a language you don’t know, and translate it into English based on the look of the words and their sounds. For example, here are three lines from a poem by the Serbian poet Vasko Popa:

Posle radnog vremena
Radnici su umorni
Jedva cekaju da stignu u barake

I might translate this into English as

Post-grad eggnog, ramen noodles.
Nikki in the morning,
jacket just stuck with brakes.

That doesn’t make a lot of sense, but it does give me some new words and ideas to play with. 

Image

I selected an Urdu poem by Noor ka Noor, a rather long poem, and “translated” by sound the first two verses.

The Original verses:

Main nay kaha mayray liay kuch dua karo 
Uss nay kaha dua pay na takkia karo 

Main nay kaha zehan pay rehta hai bojh sa 
Uss nay kaha chup kay kaheen ro lia karo 

River of Syrup:

A homophonic Translation

  After Noor ka Noor

 

Main man says no kasha when manray stingray lies much two syrupy

Unless no kasha two pays no tekkie syrup hero

Main man says river pays rent high both yes

Us we no kasha chomp ok sheen rose like syrup

 

C.J. Prince

©2014