remembrance gentle like babe’s foot
smooth creamy warm
cradle handed down as heritage
here we sit waiting for christening
oblivious to what she will bear
what joys and anguish
hall clock ticktock
he is late with his mantras
to be whispered in her ear
soft purr of cat circles room —
nobody requires to speak
we roll new name on our tongues
over and over like counting
pearls on a necklace or
sweat drops down throat
even westwind is quiet today
a starling lands on sill
does not twitter, waits silent
she passes from one arm to next
wordless chaste enchanting
white crochet shawl alive
with granny’s hands —
teapot smiles rooibos tea
iced biscuits and cherries bedeck
oval oak sturdy, assured, steady
we hear his car in driveway
murmur a prayer of thanksgiving
still we whisper, still starling
has not flown or tweeted
teeny gold identity bangle glisten
white daisies shiver in bowl
petals endorse sound of name
beauty birthed has no time
__________________________
[Poet’s Note : Inspired by : Benicia Poet Laureate Emerita, Johanna Ely’s Poem : What Still Matters | Confirm : No AI ]
___________________________
J-oy
O-f
H-appy
A-ura
N-ullifies
N-o
A-nd
R-ejection,
E-ven
P-rocrastination,
U-sing
Y-es
A-new
©bfa062125
Monocrostic (Birthday of Johanna A. Repuya)
The painting of "The Sick Child" by Edvard Munch (1863-1944)
was painted in 1907, oil on canvas, 46.4 inches by 47.2 inches
or 3.8 feet by 3.9 feet. Edvard painted what stirred his mind, and
this art piece touches my soul, it is one of six of the same scene.
It is painted in thick layers, in vertical strokes and has a hazy
feel and an emotional power. We are sharing a scene that is the
veil of Edvard's memory, the death of his sister, Johanna at fifteen.
The suffering girl is propped up on a pillow, she seems poised to me .
As the girl looks to the side perhaps looking at death coming, a
mourner clutches her hands, a woman maybe a family member.
I feel a loving bond in the anguish of the bowed head and despair.
The painting captures the ravage of disease, it is a haunting scene.
The use color and style is Expressionism, pigments of white, marine
and vermillion red, ochre, emerald green, yellows, and cobalt blue
can be detected. Oh, that thick blanket must be so warm and heavy.
I feel the girl's pain, and the acceptance of her death, her emptiness.
J-ust
O-vercome
H-azard
A-nd
N-oxious
N-astiness
A-s
R-abid
E-nemy's
P-andemic
U-ses
Y-ucky
A-ilment
Topic: Birthday of Johanna A. Repuya (June 21)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
J-ust
O-bserve
H-ygiene
A-nd
N-ew
N-ormal
A-s
P-rocedures
A-bate
R-abid
T-hreat's
O-utbreak
Topic: Birthday of Johanna A. Parto (June 02)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Bob Dylan's Suicide
A song on JFK Assassination
Like a Rolling Stone,
I Want You, Blowin' In The Wind,
Hurricane.
Mr. Tamborine Man, Just Like A Woman,
It Ain't Me Babe
Tangled Up In Blue
Visions Of Johanna
Every Grain of Sand
Jokerman, You Ain't Goin' Nowhere.
Shelter From The Storm
Maggie's Farm, Tonight I'll Be Staying Here,
The Times Are A Changing
All Along The Watch Tower, Things Have Changed,
A Simple Twist of Fate
Idiot Wind, Knockin' On Heaven's Door,
Dignity, It's Aright, Ma
Desolation Row: Murder Most Foul.
by,
Martin Braun
3/30/2020
K-eep
Y-our
L-ight
A-flame
J-ust
O-beying
H-oly
A-lmighty's
N-oble
N-otes
A-s
S-ubmission
I-s
T-ruly
O-utstanding
Topic: Birthday of Kyla Johanna Sito (April 08)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Queen Johanna I of Naples
Reigned over the marriage bed
"No wife must yield to her husband
More than six times per day," she said.
And now you know the reason
Why they all died young, back then
It wasn't the spaghetti
Just cocks chasing after the hen!
K-eep
Y-our
L-ove
A-live
Topic: Birthday of Kyla Johanna Sito (April 8)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
A wonderful grandmother
She smiled because she had lived
Taught me about life and love
Her silver hair revealed years she had seen
Children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren
A long life of sunshine, joy, pain and tears
Nothing came easy in her life
Grandma's hands bent and swollen by arthritis
Bless your breath from this life
I can always see you in my memory
(Dagny Johanna Gismervik - died 16/12/2002 - 89 years)
21.02.2016
A-L Andresen :)
Holier than thou
Not giv’n to pray, they were grey monks
‘Mid the holy band, ole’ Father John
Who was a gansta and wanksta,
Held command with some merry wives
That were healed of un-upright-nesses
Of them was Johanna selle her belle chose
And walke as fresh as is a red rose.
Many ministered unto him their substance.
Such was then pious lusty man of this crowd
This monk possess’d such wond’rous pow’r
To rub out the sin that Satan chalk’d upon
And gave fresh license to start afresh.
Near, in a farm house liv’d this gay dame
Quite clever in throwing a spanner in works
Father John sought the cell ev’ry week
Once a thump at the door, the husband came
Who was dodgy and a nutter
Punished the father with his thick stick.
Till he confessed "no he’d play the priest".
+++
August 24, 2014
Form: Free Verse
I see you on stage, accepting your badge
Looking like time erased all definition
From your stodgy face
Sometimes I wonder if you realize
what you've done-
In interviews, always cagey
Mercurial like the days of England
prancing on half-beaten guitars
With a litany of melted stories
We salute you from coast to coast:
A sultan of piercing lyricism
Making time stand still with song.
When nuclear war towered,
Belting out when I die in my footsteps
You are a rare animal trekking
Through a wasteland of fear
When I was a teenager
Crawling through mirrors,
Visions of Johanna blasted my skull
Making a temple for me to grow
Though Mona lisa had the highway blues
I can feel the spine of your voice
As I round early adulthood
Learning the deepest reaches of love,
Speaking like silence
There's no way to catalogue
the impression you've had
So as you stand there on stage
Being hung with the President's medal
Know that you've made an impact
Your life will inspire
Humanity for generations to come
To my daughters
Her eyes
Searching the stars
To share her song, her heart
A clearing in the woods, hazel
Sofia.
Her eyes
Like azure skies
Reflecting in water
Absorbing all that life offers
Johanna.
Her eyes
That cannot lie
The goodness that lies
Within clouds to water God's fields
Stacey.
By CarolineCecile
It started with one
The south is where she would grow up
New York is where she would stay
A man she would meet, two girls she would have
New York is where the oldest would grow up
She would move to Baltimore, but at some point, Colorado would become her home
She would have two girls of her own
But would lose one all too soon
New York is where the youngest would grow up
She would try out California, but Colorado would become her home
She would have one girl of her own
She would be born in New York, but Colorado would be her home
And a girl she would have of her own
Daisy, Darlene, Johanna, Crystal, Sharifah, Nicole & Aleonya
Art
in the
bakery-
will she buy this
one
Tribute to Johanna Ey artf=dealer/artists friend
Johaanna Ey by Otto Dix
http://www.mess.net/galleria/dix/ey.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Johanna_Ey
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