Inspiration for this poem was Gwendolyn Brooks "The Bean Eaters."
Stray fox sleeps closely, near this widow’s pies.
Keeping their bond implies sunrise.
Crisp apples with its wisp to meadows peak,
Bees’ clockwise
This pair of unique pals.
That live each day with ease,
Know that it didn’t leave out sounds
Or banging or breeze.
But Harmonizing…
Harmonizing, blues among hearts restrung,
They pick up fragments to piece, fix, bind trinkets lost, lone
Then the two sit down relish with drinks an pie delightful,
Now viewing that sunset.
...after Gwendolyn Brooks & Terrance Hayes
In this dim-lit hall, gathered close, we
Chalk our cues, faces worn but real.
Eight-ball in the corner, staying cool,
Brothers in the game, that's who we
Are. Schoolyard dreams we long since left,
Traded books for pool cues after school.
In this smoky haven loitering, here we
Find our place, amongst shadows we lurk
Quiet-like. Clock ticking, hour grows late,
But time don't matter much when we
Line up shots, aiming for that strike,
Playing it cool, playing it straight.
'Round the table, huddled close, we
Share our stories, raspy voices sing
Of life's hard knocks, fleeting joy, hidden sin.
In felt-green world, for now we're free, we
Hold on tight, though hope grows thin.
Raise our glasses, cheap whiskey, no gin,
To friendship lasting. Together, we
Make our music, spinning pool hall jazz.
Summer's ending, farewell to June,
We play on still, knowing in short time, we
Might not be here, where dreams can die,
Our final game coming too soon.
It's a Langston Hughes kind of day
filled with dutiful hints of Robert frost
within the sudden humor and vague
eccentricity of Ernest hemmingway
the quiet freedom of Nikki Giovanni
with a cunning soul shaking enlightment
of Maya Angelo tinged with the noble
excitement of John keats as the clouds
move into this rapture an intriguing sheer
fondness of William butler Yeats while
the soft dem lights over the lake hits
my minds eye just so as I'm quite
taken by the sinking thoughts of
Virginia woolf beckoning my innermost
calm peeking through wooden slats
exposing the granduer of Gwendolyn Brooks
smile mastering greatness beneath broken
planks on the sunscreen porches even so
i dare change a thing about this glorious
day this Langston Hughes kind of day
There are unbearable things to bear,
There is a place I dare not speak of
And we have all been there.
Gwendolyn MacEwen
The Name of the Place
The Shadow-Makers, 1969
It wasn’t meant to be mine, yet
Each word belonged to me.
The poet, her desires and regrets,
A sweetness that painfully bleeds
Into my veins, into my thoughts,
A long-awaited transfusion--
A blue flame soothing a blue moth
That named the stranger I’ve become.
I must return what is not mine,
Though each line has burrowed deep,
And the echoes of her grieving pines
Will not let me sleep, how can I sleep?
Back it must go to sulk on a shelf.
Returned: one thin book. Found: myself.
five chameleon sisters with talents none shared
dancing the day awake in a Nebraskan hay field
one was a dancer, dreaming of Broadway and Park Avenue
one was a soothsayer, seeing three of their futures.
Terrified because she could not see Gladys in the future.
Gladys was laughing the loudest, she brought mirth and joy
Had been uniting them in a loving way since her birth
Gwendolyn tried to shake off the feeling of death
Her premonitions had a way of coming to pass.
You do not look happy, observed Genevieve. She was their empath.
No idea why, she fibbed, not wanting to alarm anyone.
Trust should flow like the river –
Wide and deep, not turbulent, dangerous, murky, or dirty-
no not like the deep weedy sea-
Trust should be like a summer breeze- an unasked-for sneeze- a bird in flight-
a pleasant night- a love of things- a heart that sings-
Trust should be like an innocent child- an unplanned smile-Trust should be free.
Gwendolyn Cloyd
Bite-size Poem #41 Contest
Sponsored By: Line Gauthier
April 02, 2022
Giggly Gwendolyn greeted goofy Gary with giggles.
With goofy giggles Gary greeted Gwendolyn goofily.
If Gwendolyn only greeted goofy Gary gaggingly
what would happen to Gary's goofy giggly giggles?
G-ood
W-ashing
E-mploys
N-eatness
D-enying
O-nerous
L-ink's
Y-ucky
N-astiness
B-y
R-epelling
O-utbreak
O-f
K-iller
S-ickness
Topic: Birthday of poetess Gwendolyn Brooks (June 07)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
K
I
Three kitties I once had: Pretty Persian Gwendolyn and Pumpkin, round and fat!
The third one, Ralph, with his purr like thunder’s rumble. was the sweetest cat!
I
E
S
Nov 13, 2020
for Kim’S Acrostic Play Poetry Contest
Who is this person
Behind the Mask
Hidden
Hidden From others
Putting on a Happy Face
For all to see
Laughter ringing out
Hollow
No one feel's it
No one see's
BUT ME
Hypocritical Hypocrite?
Maybe..
Is this truly
What others see
How can it be
Trying so hard
Who is this person
When did it start
Hiding behind the Mask?
What is behind the
Mask
Longing, Lonely, Dispare
Pain, Hurting Heart
Tears, Falling Apart
Can not catch my breath
Scared to death
Who is this person
Behind the Mask?
OH GOD I ASK
WHO???
© Gwendolyn Brown,
. Donkey Kong country
Entertainment for me
I love to see Kong shoot
Out of the barrel so free
Searching for Diddy, hoot
And bananas in a tree
bananas give life; Coconuts
Kill; avoid the armadillo's kill
Find Diddy increase odds
Find a secret passage fill
Up the store house with
Monkey loot. Stay up hill.
Donkey Kong Country
Ride a rhino for strength
For Gwendolyn R. contest
Shape poem
Murder at the Prom
Frankie Lyman shrilled his falsetto.
Gwendolyn Gould danced in stilettos.
So callously smothered,
they never recovered.
Poor little piggies, scrunched little toes.
©Kathryn McLoughlin Collins
March 11, 2012
comic relief for a rhyme bender,
don't drop it in the mangy blender,
words of truth in other lines,
how 2 get em i can't find,
cos i caint remember...
well done here babe...Gwendolyn Rix,
from the johnson loonitic
Don
you have it right,
it is in sync,
speak of the light,
without a blink,
comes paradise,
Father Son & Holy Ghost,
have cause for some to drink.
don't ya know it?
thank you Gwendolyn Rix
Don Johnson
Natalie’s gift, a poem for me
Was the best present I received
Unexpected, it touched my soul -
Curing me from poetry mold
(A condition unbecoming)
With a smile I was released
From days of dark futility
Inspiration came, bestowed glow -
Natalie’s gift
I give her thanks for helping me
Get rid of the mold festering
Inside of me, and truth be told
I’d still be there if not for her bold
Poem that described me "to a T" -
Natalie’s gift
1/2/12
(quote from Gwendolyn in Natalie's comment section on Natalie's poem "To Susan from Natalie")
Received Honorable Mention in "GIFTS GIVEN, GIFTS RECEIVED, A RONDEAU" contest
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