Saturday, April 6, 2013

Motel

Apple Tree Motel, photo courtesy of Michael Bixler

Motel

Hum of night
Red glow Catskills
Flicker of light
Neon Mountain stills
Motel—taillights
The road hums
To the Apple Tree
The chill of night
Numbs—red fades to red
Distance on our side
Slide Mountain—slide


© October 29, 2012, Robbie Pruitt


My friend Michael Bixler is an excellent photographer, artist, writer, videographer and “adventurer” who took the photo above. Like much of his work, it captivated me and inspired the poem Motel. Bixler has provoked me to poetry with Ghost Lake back in October of 2012, with his photo Late Autumn Epiphany last November, and with Homage back in December of 2012, I am a huge fan of his work and am grateful he allows me to use his art as my muse. To see more of Michael Bixler’s work, click here, here, or here.



The Apple Tree Motel sign during the day: https://plus.google.com/101311750252424984639/about?hl=en

Friday, April 5, 2013

Summer’s Air

Spier Willow Trees, by Ula Gillion from Flickr here

Summer’s Air

Her skin was radiant
As the noon sun
Illuminated softly
Through the shade
Of the willow tree
The smell of fried chicken
Arose from the picnic basket
We reclined on the plaid blanket
Questioning silently if this was love
If the summer’s air would hold redemption
The smell of watermelon wafted in the breeze
As the willow cradled and sheltered us in its leaves
Before it occurred to me there was no melon
Her glossy rosy-red lips touched mine in fruitful passion
Watermelon never tasted so good in summer’s air


© April 3, 2013, Robbie Pruitt

Thursday, April 4, 2013

Sandburg’s Faith


Photo of Carl Sandburg with Guitar from www.nps.org

“For we live by faith, not by sight.” –2 Corinthians 5:7, Paul

Sandburg’s Faith

“And in the Churches
We walk by faith
And not by sight,”
Said Sandburg.
Understanding
The ‘bunkshooter,’
The blind looter
Of Freedom’s call
To walk while seeing,
Or not to walk at all.
“This Jesus was good to look at,”
Sandburg said. He saw Him too.
His faith had substance and hoped—
In what is seen, and in what is real;
Faith that comes through;
Faith that rewards at the reveal.


© April 3, 2013, Robbie Pruitt


“Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” –Hebrews 11:1

“But without faith it is impossible to please Him, for he who comes to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him.” –Hebrews 11:6


“The People, Yes,” by Carl Sandburg, Poem Animation: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RPzdgdhzTTY

To a Contemporary Bunkshooter, by Carl Sandburg: http://carl-sandburg.com/to_a_contemporary_bunkshooter.htm

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Talking to Myself

Cup and String Phone, photo from danblank.com


Talking to Myself

Paper cups
Strung together
With cord 
Pulled tightly
At arms length
I’m muttering
Into oblivion
Unintelligible words
“I’m bored!”


© April 1, 2013, Robbie Pruitt


This poem was created as part of the Every Day Poems poetry prompts from Every Day Poems on Facebook here. Below is the prompt:

“Slaying dragons prompt: write a poem in the comments about your childhood imagination play.

Go even further with words, and find the best in poetry and poetic things at http://tweetspeakpoetry.com/

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

'If' by Rudyard Kipling

Photo of Rudyard Kipling (1865–1936) 
from the Poetry Foundation here

Movember's Muse - 'If' by Rudyard Kipling, 

(‘Brother Square-Toes’—Rewards and Fairies)

If you can keep your head when all about you   
    Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,   
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
    But make allowance for their doubting too;   
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
    Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
    And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;   
    If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;   
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
    And treat those two impostors just the same;   
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
    Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
    And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
    And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
    And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
    To serve your turn long after they are gone,   
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
    Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,   
    Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
    If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
    With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,   
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,   
    And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

Source: A Choice of Kipling's Verse (1943)

Monday, April 1, 2013

Musing on the Origins Poetry

"Poet and Pholosopher" (1958) - Nikos Engonopoulos, Photo by Tilemahos_E's, From Creative Commons, © February 21, 2009

Musing on the Origins Poetry

“Ordering a man to write a poem is like commanding a pregnant woman to give birth to a red-haired child.”  ― Carl Sandburg

April is National Poetry Month and I am excited to participate all month long by posting a different poem each day on Facebook and Twitter, and by posting a new poem weekly on my poetry blog, Poetry by Robbie Pruitt, at www.robbiepruitt.com.

National Poetry Month has me thinking about how I write poetry and how I see poetry.  Where does a poem come from?  How are poems inspired?  As I have been thinking about this, it is interesting what answers begin to emerge. In this post, I will explore the variety of motivations and inspirations that yield the poetry that I write. 

One of my favorite poets is Carl Sandburg. I was inspired to write poetry very early on through reading Carl Sandburg’s poems. I also identify with much of what Sandburg said about writing poetry and can identify with a lot of what he said about poetry and his inspiration to write poems. I will begin each musing on the origins of a poem with a quote or idea from Carl Sandburg or another poet or artist and will then share my own thoughts, reflections, delights, adventures, struggles, or meditations about poetry.

An Idea of a Poem

“Nothing happens unless first a dream.”   ― Carl Sandburg, The Complete Poems

Before I set out to write a poem, there is usually an inspired emotion or thought. Sometimes I look at landscapes in nature, a photo, a person, a scripture, a song, an idea, or a thought and a poem begins to come to mind. Other times it is a conversation or a mood or emotion that sparks inspiration for a poem. 

A Structure of a Poem

 “I'm an idealist. I don't know where I'm going but I'm on the way.”  ― Carl Sandburg

This idea that “I don't know where I'm going but I'm on the way” begins to sum up the feelings and the thoughts that I have as I begin to write a poem. As I begin to write the poem, I am not too sure where I am going with it. Rarely do I have the whole poem in mind when I begin to write. 

The Title of a Poem

“Now I am here - now read me - give me a name.” ― Carl Sandburg

Sometimes I begin writing a poem with a line or a title and just begin. Sometimes I write the end first and then the beginning and then the title. Other times, I write the poem from beginning to end and then add the title at last. It is as if I am following the poem’s lead.

The Content of a Poem

“Sometime they’ll give a war and nobody will come.”  ― Carl Sandburg

Poems often do not have the effect that I wish they had on me, or on others. They are written, they “give war,” but no one comes to meet their challenge, sometimes not even me. 

The Poems That I Do Not Understand

“I've written some poetry I don't understand myself” ― Carl Sandburg

Like Sandburg, I have often had this experience. I have written poetry that I do not understand.  It came from somewhere, but where, I do not know. Sometimes I understand the poem completely and other times I have no idea what I have written, what it means, or why I wrote it.

The Poetry of the Everyday

“A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.” –Robert Frost

Life happens and so do the poems that follow. Like Robert Frost asserted, a poem can have its origins in everyday emotions feelings, injustices, and loneliness, as well as the poetic muse of love. This is often the case with poems I write. Life happens and then poetry. To say it another way, life is poetic and I write it down.

The Poetry of Discovery

“Writing a poem is discovering.” –Robert Frost

Certainly there is discovery in poetry. The composer of the poem is lead into discovery as well as the reader. I discover a lot about myself and about my subjects when I write poetry.

Here are some other poetic musings that I’m contemplating this month:

Poetry on Accident

“A lot happens by accident in poetry.” –Howard Nemerov

Poetry is Essence

“Write what should not be forgotten.” –Isabel Allende

The Poetry of Naming

A poets work is to name the unnamable.” –Salman Rushdie

Poetry: The Dancing Echo

“Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.” –Carl Sandburg

The Adventure of Poetry

“Writing is an adventure.” –Winston Churchill

The Poetry in Listening

“The poet doesn’t invent. He listens.”  –Jean Cocteau 


Watch a video on 'What is Poetry?' here on YouTube.

Friday, March 29, 2013

Born From Death’s Scorn

Seed, photo by the yes man, from Flickr

“Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” –John 12:24

"What shape waits in the seed of you?" –David Whyte

Born From Death’s Scorn

What longs to be born from the seed?
What shape waits in the seed of you?
What will emerge from the soil?
What will break through?
“Unless a seed falls to the ground and dies . . .”
We will never see resurrection with these eyes.


© March 28, 2013, Robbie Pruitt

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Softly Signaling Life

“I Am Alive!” photo by Robbie Pruitt, © March 18, 2013

Softly Signaling Life

The little one bumps
In Morse code
Throughout the night
My hand rests gently
Listening intently to her
Trying to decipher babblings
From within the womb
Softly—through her mother’s skin
Until we both fade to sleep again


© March 18, 2013, Robbie Pruitt


This poem, Softly Signaling Life, was submitted to Open Link Night at dVerse Poets on Tuesday, March 19, 2013. To see more poems submitted, please visit the site. The links will be live at 2 p.m. Central time on Tuesday. Check “Mr. Linky” for this week’s poems here.

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

Hierophany

Courtesy of Joseph Bataille, © 2013
A Haitian Perspective Blog: http://jgbataille.wordpress.com

“The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it.” –John 1:5

Hierophany

Facing into a new night
Darkness
Did not comprehend
The Light
Facing into a new Light

Facing into a new Light
Light
Did not comprehend
The Darkness
Facing into a new night


© March 1, 2013, Robbie Pruitt


This poem was submitted to Open Link Night at dVerse Poets on Tuesday, March 12, 2013. To see more poems submitted, please visit the site. The links will be live at 2 p.m. Central time on Tuesday. Check “Mr. Linky” for this week’s poems.

Friday, March 1, 2013

Benediction: The Face of God

The Drama of Scripture cover from Amazon.com

An epic poem based on The Drama of Scripture: 
Finding Our Place in the Biblical Story
By Craig G. Bartholomew and Michael W. Goheen

Act 6: The Return of the King: Redemption Completed
Conclusion and Benediction: The Face of God


Conclusion and Benediction

As the wise men concluded their stories at evening’s end
Prayers and blessings would rise up like campfire smoke
The story echoing and stillness in the hope—transcend
And the minstrels would play their final chords
And the hymn singers their final choruses to the Lord
Prayers were offered up and chants—incantations  
The crowd would fade into the night back to their own places
The circle shrinking as less light reflected off fewer faces
The poets would add midnight oil to their lamps
Light their pipes and ladle out more brew
The morning was a long way off for them to be through
The images and prose floated like music—the lyrics presupposed
They knew they would not sleep until it was written in verse
So without plan, reservation, or thought—
they would not rehearse
Quill and ink scratched paper frantically in final prose

The poets proclaimed, “This is how the story goes . . .”


The Face of God

Once we walked in the loving gaze
Of the face of God
In Eden’s beauty paradise
On heavenly earth; on heavenly sod
Our transgressions made us outcasts
And dark winds blew us,
To the East, it threw us
The wind withered the land
The fallen outnumbered the sand
None could rest, not kings in their riches
Nor the poor with outstretched hand . . .
And the prophets cried out
The priests offered sacrifice and praise with shout,
And the kings waged war and decreed
Until it was clear, all people bleed
And silence deafened the people in need
Then the starry night came. . .
Wise men were called from the East
Back to their Prince of Peace
His star led them there
With gifts of worship so fine and fair
The Light had entered darkness
After four hundred years of silence
Broken in a babies cry
For all to live, who once had died
The Shepherds came with staff and rod,
And these wise men, to see the face of God
In former days, and in many ways
God spoke and now by His Son,
In these latter days
He walks again with His people
In Eden made anew
His face and their face; seen through and through
To once again walk in that loving gaze
In the Glory of the face of God
In Eden’s paradise
On heavenly sod
To be right again with our God
Heaven came down and intimacy restored
Both rich and poor have seen their Lord


© December 2011, Robbie Pruitt


Hebrews 1:1-4

“God, who at various times and in various ways spoke in time past to the fathers by the prophets, has in these last days spoken to us by His Son, whom He has appointed heir of all things, through whom also He made the worlds; who being the brightness of His glory and the express image of His person, and upholding all things by the word of His power, when He had by Himself purged our sins, sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high, having become so much better than the angels, as He has by inheritance obtained a more excellent name than they.”

Monday, February 25, 2013

Wisteria

Wisteria photo from Flickrby Rick Kimpel, 
rkimpeljr, © March 28, 2007

Wisteria

Purple
Wraps around
And intertwines
In gripping love
Adorning
Vine and tree
With Purple
Majesty  


© February 21, 2013, Robbie Pruitt


Wisterias, photo from Flickr by formatc1, © May 10, 2008



This poem will also be submitted to Open Link Night at dVerse Poets on Tuesday. To see more poems submitted, please visit the site. The links will be live at 2 p.m. Central time on Tuesday. Check “Mr. Linky” for this week’s poems.

Saturday, February 23, 2013

Purple Passion

Love Aura, photo from Flickr by Jsome1

Purple Passion

Grapes are fruits
Of royalty
And we feed on
Grapes in ecstasy
One at a time
Purple as satin
Sheets and silk

Purple Roses
Indicate love
At first sight
Purple hue
Transcends
The bluest night

A purple moon
Returns nightly
In varying shape, shade
And degrees of light
Illuminating slightly


© February 11, 2013, Robbie Pruitt



This poem will also be submitted to Open Link Night at dVerse Poets on Tuesday. To see more poems submitted, please visit the site. The links will be live at 2 p.m. Central time on Tuesday. Check “Mr. Linky” for this week’s poems.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Color Purple

Purple Roses in a Bowl, photo from Flickr by Mason2008

“I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don't notice it." –Alice Walker

Color Purple

Alice Walker
Never met a purple shade
That she did not admire
Which did not persuade
Her regard for it would not tire
She stood with God
In fields of purple flower
With beauty that would not cower
Amidst splashes of the finest color
In the countryside assured


© February 11, 2013, Robbie Pruitt


TweetSpeak’s poetry prompt and musical playlist this February is Purple Rain and Indigo Blues (A Plum-good Poetry Prompt).  This week TweetSpeak Poetry offers Purple Plays (An Associative Poetry Prompt) by Seth Haines here.

This poem will also be submitted to Open Link Night at dVerse Poets. To see more poems submitted, please visit the site. The links will be live at 2 p.m. Central time on Tuesday. Check “Mr. Linky” for this week’spoems.

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Lydia

Purple photo from Flickr by Lady-Ro

Lydia

Seller of purple
To excess and royalty
Scent of lilac and lavender
Extravagance for all to see

Plum
But not the fruit
And not the color
Plum
Like no other

Indigo
Amidst
Our day-glow
Flowering
With Lavender
And Lilac
We don’t turn back
Maker, seller—Follower
Of purple linen
A sister—Our kin


© February 5, 2013, Robbie Pruitt


“On the Sabbath we went outside the city gate to the river, where we expected to find a place of prayer. We sat down and began to speak to the women who had gathered there. One of those listening was a woman from the city of Thyatira named Lydia, a dealer in purple cloth. She was a worshiper of God. The Lord opened her heart to respond to Paul’s message. When she and the members of her household were baptized, she invited us to her home. “If you consider me a believer in the Lord,” she said, “come and stay at my house.” And she persuaded us.” –Acts 16:13-15


This poem, Lydia, was submitted on TweetSpeak’s poetry prompt on February’s Purple Rain and Indigo Blues (A Plum-good Poetry Prompt) on TweetSpeak Poetry, offered by Seth Haines here.

This poem will also be submitted to Open Link Night at dVerse Poets. To see more poems submitted, please visit the site. The links will be live at 2 p.m. Central time Tuesday. Check “Mr. Linky” for this week’s poems.

Saturday, February 2, 2013

Restoration is Here

The Drama of Scripture cover from Amazon.com

An epic poem based on The Drama of Scripture: 
Finding Our Place in the Biblical Story
By Craig G. Bartholomew and Michael W. Goheen

Act 6: The Return of the King: Redemption Completed

Act 6: The Return of the King: Redemption Completed: 

Restoration is Here

Restoration the final act
When all is made new
All that is broken had been seen to
When all is made right
All will worship at that day
When there is no more night
When Jesus has come back
He will have worshippers
A number too great to count
And to God’s own glory—surmount  
Recreation and restoration we are to be about
And on the mountaintop we will all shout!
It is, indeed, finished!
Death has been diminished
“All that is sad will come untrue”
And creation will be renewed
We will praise His name until that final day is done
Until all can say, “I am His daughter. I am His son.”
We wait until He comes on the cloud
When the final glory has been revealed
At the lifting of the final shroud
Then we will worship
With a many a shout—as we all yell out loud
Hosanna to our King
May His glory ever ring! 

This is how the story comes to its final end,
when all has just commenced
And all is made new again, as it was in former days hence


© September 7, 2012, Robbie Pruitt