Posts tagged ‘Poetry’

Letting Go – poem by Joe Pfeffer

An adult seagull (Larus michahellis)

Image via Wikipedia

I’d like to introduce you to the poetry of Joe Pfeffer, a new friend I made at a poetry reading at Hartford Coffee Company in Saint Louis, MO.  I will be featuring more of Joe’s work in the days ahead while I continue on a break.

. . .

Letting Go

When it was
Over, she told him not to care
Because he’d seen it all before.

He’d heard her voice,
He’d seen her cry when she was sure
No one would look.

He said they all can
See the way you take that flute and
Make it into fire,

The way you hold the moon
In both your hands then
Let it float away as though

You never knew the terror in the
Seagull’s yawp of triumph.
Go now, she said, and do not

Think of me, but of your
Heart no longer empty,
And your soul no longer free.

                     ~ Joseph Pfeffer (copyright 2011)

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Two Highway Haiku |poetry

country tech
Member “pdokey1365” on Flickr took the photo above near Bloomington, Illinois . I think it’s a great match for these two Haiku I wrote as a pair while driving north six hours midday through the mostly quiet, flat farm fields of Illinois, on my way to visit family. This is my first real attempt at haiku, so I’d love feedback.

Mine
Flat straight ribbon road
caramel chocolate cream
bordered gold and white

Alone
stretching far ahead
melting, expanding, shrinking
shadows left then right

~ Callisse J. De Terre
copyright 15 December 2010, last revised 6 September 2011

@mollyjayne40 |poetry

An intro to faceless me…25 Aug 11

@mollyjayne40
dedicated to Twitter

Often ill, away.  Some leave me;
some wait.  Tell me why.

I marvel.  A cosmos in mini
where the faceless love, hate,
live and die.

~ Callisse J. DeTerre

copyright 24 August 2011


I Listened to a Book Today – poem

Cover of "A Wind in the Door"

Cover of A Wind in the Door

I want to tell you that this poem is a true testimony to perseverance and friendship. I rewrote the poem 11 times with the help of generous and constructive feedback – not just on this poem, but my writing in general – from my forum friends at Poetry Here And Now As may be already apparent, I write much of my poetry under the pseudonym Callisse J. DeTerre. Besides, those special friends I’ve mentioned above, I’d like to dedicate this poem to all the people who helped instill in me a love of reading and those like my good friend and youth services regional librarian, Krista Rakers of Saint Louis Public Libraries, who aim to do the same with the young of today. Reading redefines reality! Read, read, read and use your library to save a few trees!

I Listened to a Book Today

From a volume my mother
bought for me, More Tell Me Why,
I learned, at eight, my cat
could be frozen by a centipede.
By ten, The Narnia collection complete,
I traveled through A Wind In the Door
to lose myself in the Tao Te Ching.
Then Again Maybe I Won’t
unlocked the mysteries of men
but it was just the seed.

Filled with my search for connection –
Scripture, Jung and Chemistry –
my prep school book bag weighed in at
thirty pounds, with texts alone.
At twenty, reality struck –
people kill trees to answer me!
Now, at forty, I can hardly breathe.
So, today, as if to atone,
I listened to a book,
but it didn’t speak to me.

~Callisse J. Land, copyright 25 April 2011, revised 27 June 2011

Nevermind the World – poem

How Do I Love Thee!

Image by charissa1066 via Flickr

Nevermind The World

You’ll call
Something has happened
I won’t ask
I’ll jump in the car, no coat
Every red light lasts too long

You’ll giggle
Something delights you
I won’t ask
I’ll follow your gaze to a caterpillar
Every little thing is cause to celebrate

You’ll knock
Your cheeks wet, eyes red
I won’t ask
Your sobs will drench my shoulder
The silence will be loud and long

You’ll laugh
Your belly bouncing with each breath
I won’t ask
Your eyes will bubble like champagne
That’s reason enough to celebrate

You’ll reach out
Eventually we all need help
You won’t ask
I’ll cast others aside, jump in
No professional could last as long

You’ll chuckle
Eventually we must choose humor
You won’t ask
I’ll wipe away the chocolate pie
No mess will negate what we celebrate

You’ll ask
Your arms weak, hands cold
I won’t mind
Your joy will be my agenda that day
Our time together may not be long

You’ll smile
Your eyes fixed on me, my face
I’ll smile too
You mean what you say in that way
Together another day, I’ll celebrate

You’ll wonder
Do I mean anything to the world?
Nevermind
You mean the world to me
I could never celebrate you too long

On the Edge (Sur Le Bord) – image with poem (en français aussi)

The reader should understand that translation of poetry requires one to be less literal, less exact, in order to preserve implied meaning and artistic elements of sound and appearance. I have done my best to present here a poem that would be accepted as well-written by both an audience whose native language is English and one whose native language is French. However, I can promise neither.

[en anglais]

I dance
on the edge of night
like the flight
of Autumn leaves
begging
Let me rest
before Winter steals
away my breath

The music
of madness compels
I twist and turn
on toe til I bleed
on a stage
empty of all but me
dancing
in the dark

~Callisse J. DeTerre, copyright 10 October 1988, last revised 08 June 2011

[in French]

Je danse
sur le bord de la nuit
comme le fuite
des feuilles d’automne,
supplie,
Laissez-moi me reposer
avant l’hiver me vole
ma capacité à respirer

La musique
de ma folie me force
Je file et je me tords
sur la pointe des pieds
afin que je saigne
sur une scène, vide
sauf pour moi qui
est danse dans le nuit

~Callisse J. DeTerre, 10/10/88, rev 08/06/11

No Reason, Brave Cravens – poem

Vietnam War Memorial

Image by TTVo via Flickr

As my brother readies to deploy for a 3rd time to Iraq, war has been on my mind. I saw a movie about the Vietnam War in a small private cinema at a writers’ conference when I was 16 years old. It deeply impacted me; I couldn’t speak, so I wrote. Someday, someday when my brother is safely here on US soil to stay, the horrid photos he shared with us from his first tour will likely become a poem just as this scene from the movie did. Below is the original version written when I was 16, as well as version created following comments made by fellow poets at the poetry forum, Poetry Here And Now. I would love readers to share which they like best or any other comments.

Original version:

Brave Cravens

Gathering scattered bits of brain
some red with intensity
some milk white with no meaning
some blue with the night

Crusted brown blood
on his shattered skull
maps their traveled terrain
his matted hair, their losses

His eye – fixed in a dusty stare –
gazes on a blazing wall,
one eye will not open
the other will not close

Brave craven wipe
muddied hands on thighs
staring here
then blankly there

They turn one by one
a few glancing back
as they tramp away
for no reason
no reason

~Callisse J. DeTerre, copyright October 1987

Fifth version:

No Reason

Crusted brown blood on the scalp
of their buddy’s shattered skull
maps their traveled terrain
his matted hair, their losses

They gather scattered bits of brain
some bloody intense red,
some white with no meaning,
some endless night mosquito blue

His eye – fixed in a dusty stare
gazes on the wall set ablaze,
his other will not open
this one will not close

Done, the brave cravens wipe
blood-muddied hands on thighs
staring here then blankly there
past the dead, enemies still

And now turning one by one,
as they tramp away,
a few glance back for no
reason, no reason at all

~Callisse J. DeTerre, copyright October 1987, last revised 5/02/11

Read more poetry or get feedback on your own by joining at:Poetry Here And Now