Thursday, April 18, 2019

Bits of Inspiration ~ Poems in April ~ Bell


We are more than half way through the challenge of thirty poems in thirty days. What a wonderful month of poetry it has been thus far. Today I would like to offer a quote and photos as inspiration for your poetic offerings.


The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers. Matsuo Basho





Today's challenge is to simply allow the quote and images to bring poetry from you. Place your link on Mr. Linky and then visit your fellow poets to read their journey into bells and flowers.



Wednesday, April 17, 2019

Poems in April ~ Somewhere in the midst of stirring April






Originally meant to astound the Puritanical sensibilities of the 1920s, Cummings's poems of romantic and sexual love remain just as provocative, thrilling and fresh today. For today's prompt I have selected one which completely blew my mind:
 

The Mind Is Its Own Beautiful Prisoner


the mind is its own beautiful prisoner.
Mine looked long at the sticky moon
opening in dusk her new wings

then decently hanged himself, one afternoon.

The last thing he saw was you
naked amid unnaked things,

your flesh, a succinct wand-like animal,
a little strolling with the futile purr
of blood; your sex squeaked like a billiard-cue
chalking itself, as not to make an error,
with twists spontaneously methodical.
He suddenly tasted worms windows and roses

he laughed, and closed his eyes as a girl closes
her left hand upon a mirror.

Cummings exhibited an ongoing interest in both love and the erotic as a subject in both his writing and his painting. As a painter, he dedicated a separate series of paintings each to nudes, burlesques, and to lovers. 

As a poet, he was a sensitive and supple writer who ferreted out distinguishing nuances in relation to love and its complements unlove and lust. The poem speaks of a man who has lost his lover and covers various themes such as loss, betrayal, paradoxical dichotomy and mental self-imprisonment.

Our frame of reference is the title of Cummings's poem. Choose your own form or write in free verse, if preferred. I look forward to reading what you guys come up with. Please do visit others and remember to comment on their poems. Have fun!🍓