The form of this Poem is a Triolet. See if you can see and feel it's rhythm. It is a prompt from the NaPoWriMo.net website. It goes likes this. ~~ THE SHELTERING BREATH Nestled into the sheltering breath Of how the days find rest in each other In the alone shallow of the hardness of death Nestled into the sheltering breath Of warp and weave on life's eternal weft In remembrance of the being held by other Nestled into the sheltering breath Of how the days find rest in each other copyright. jeanne Adwani
Tag Archives: NaPoWriMo prompt
The Sheltering Breath
Filed under jeanne adwani, NAPOWRIMO, national poetry month, TRIOLET
The Chalice
Do you pour yourself into a cup, a pool, an ocean
Do you pour yourself into a bowl, a pond, a sea
Do you dive deep, swim the shallows, go float
Do you go in dressed up, or go in naked
Is there a nature to how you enter in
The way life pulls at your breath
The way you decided to do life
Can you breathe under-
water
~~~~~
What
suffi
cates
your
Being
~~~~
Stillness
won't drown you
There are messages in the
Vast waterway of your Being-ness
*
Drink from the Chalice of your soul
Copyright... jeanne adwani.
Filed under Ace of Cups, CHALICE, jeanne adwani, NAPOWRIMO, national poetry month
Charting the Heart
Today’s prompt from napowrimo.net is to select 10 random words and then add 3-4 words that rhyme with them and make up a poem… I took a photo of what the mess I created looks like… Gives you an idea of how it went.
There is a course to chart with the heart It can start from any need that rises in the seed of love's demand as you reach out your hands making a new history from this complicated mystery Ask permission for a hug respect the little shrug No need to have the rug pulled out from under you Respecting the Land that is of other is not in your command Armadillos are not soft cloud billows to wrap around There is no need to shove, offer the peace of the dove Read the body's message of love come hither Luminescent Alchemy, roots out any blasphemy Death's casket waits in the line of your mortality
copyrights. jeanne adwani. 3 april 2020
~
When Pigs Fly on Joy Rd.
Day 2 napowrimo
I’m following a prompt given… writing about a specific place. I take this road a lot cause I love the scenery and Heck, it is called Joy Rd. after all.
It’s just up Prospect St.
Three smooth miles of road
Take a left on the dirt of Joy
Kitty corner from the Sheriff station
Feel the car’s tires hit every
Pitted pothole, and rutted out puddle
With the kinda rattle that shimmies
Those girl parts with a little thrill
Travels fast to the top of the head
And in repeat
`
You slow a little cause a rough
country road will tell you too
even when the raw edge of pleasure
tells you something else altogether
Your car will be better off for it
`
Winter strips down nature
Let’s you see through into the austere
gnarled foliage of how people
living in the country build their
domains away from the others
Tucked into the pines and the oaks
`
Maybe have a horse or two
Gather eggs from the chickens
Grow a field of life sustaining food
Fenced in their cloistered lives cause
They can out here on Joy Rd.
And I can slow drive for the thirtieth time
celebrating and breathing in a little country
`
Taking in all the something specials
A little Joy ride for a few miles
Bumping and nearly grinding along
Depending on the season
Depending on the mood rising
Depending on if you want to take
aback road to your destination
I always do.
`
I know that in a couple miles
of slow driving, and being a nosy posy
Looking for treasure on the side of this
winter battled dirt road,
There she stands
`
Lonely, beaten down over a few generations
Of living all countrified and productive
Now sitting on the edge of herself
paint pealing, boarded-up windowed
Porch trashed, roof leaking empty farm house
A barren womb of prosperity abandoned
`
The seasons have had their way with her emptiness
In their freeze and fire that weathered away at
how she once thrived and life filled Her.
Nature will feed on and take Her back to Herself
This Mother is a great Re-purposer when it comes to her own.
It’s how she loves her lost children
`
We face each other, lingering in silence
This ageless beauty sits with all her scars
Her brokenness, her abandoned safety
Her dying shell ever so slowing melding
back into the Earth mother that wants her
`
The austerity of Winter’s breath hangs
between us.
An old/new sign sways on the fence
Maybe the last to tell her story
“Flying Pig Farm”
she flew that coup long ago.
`
copyright 2020, jeanne adwani
Her Magic
~
day 13… Ok so the prompt from NaPoWriMo.net. is about magic. Could be good, bad, ugly, or any combo of all that and then some.
The thing is for me Is, I’m pretty much thinking’ it’s all magical in around me and thus, whether it seems so, I’m busy feeling and writing about everyday magic anyway. There’s magic, mystery, wonder, phenom, grooving around us all the time. It takes noticing it. It takes feeling it and moving with it.
I suppose, it depends on your definition of ‘magic’. There are as many definitions as there are people who want to define it. The ‘taking for granted’ of breathing, speaking, and your heart beating, your mind grasping the roll of words strung together in some sort of sense, doesn’t seem magical, doesn’t seem much of a wonder. And, there it is… incredibly awesome, stunningly wondrous.
Her Magic
Her breath is a sweet caress on my skin
The press of her nakedness to mine
speeds our heart’s beat together
Stirs my every cell
Awakens me to the mystery of Love
~
I feel a gasp, a desire with her finger tips
soft, slow, hard, deep, tender, aching
I pray her whispers of Love will never
cease, and that the breath of her will
be of my soul’s infinity
~
I fill my senses with her scent
The taste of her is honey and frangipani
Swimming in her eyes is a deep
dive, into the darkest emerald sea
Oh, to let her Siren call have all of me
~
What else can it be call but magic
A wonder, a mystery, a phenom
stirred together in the cauldron
of my womb and heart
A witches brew of elements
~
A perfect blend of love’s desire
This creative brew of Alchemy
The unlikely, stirred into the
improbable, a mystery held
in the heart of Infinity
In the Sense of Being EveryWhere
This is inspired by the NaPoWriMo prompt of. ‘Where are you from’ day 10
~
There is a sense of Everywhere in me
That Infinity has me and I am all That
The complete mystery of what that means
to be of stars and galaxies
to be of nebula and unmeasured
vastness
~
The dead darkness of nothingness
and the blinding sparkle of starlight
within eternal spirals of MilkWays
beyond my smallness, the hardly-a-
speck of me in the EveryWhere
~
And yet, Infinity has all of me
here on this rotating blue green planet
nestle in an orbital path around one
grand and yet very small Sun
holding my temporal body hostage
~
To gravitational pull and assured
body death as I live held here in the
choice of communing with others
that has distant remembrance
of the electric Blue entity of my Soul
that has made a short respite on Earth
~
To live to know love and tenderness
To die to the release,
to again find freedom
in the Everywhere
of Everything
and Nothingness.
~
Souls travel to know this voluminesences
This magnificence of such a Mystery
of the One Heart unfolding into every
boundless other heart, remembering
the quintessential vibration of Oneness
~~
~ cc jeanne Adwani
