Long Knitting Poems

Joyce Letitia Richmond-Solomon (A servant of God and a friend to man)

Every life has its seasons and God has created each individual for a purpose. Blessed and happy are those who discover their purpose and...

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A former friend of mine
tricked me into becoming
something I am not

The volunteer President
of our condo association,
a position I clearly cannot afford
midst trifling disassociations.

We were starting our Autumn tradition
of arguing about next year's budget
which typically continues
until...

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Slowly creeping out of winter 
Would it ever be the same 
If I showed up at your door 
Out of breath, out of line 
With a million excuses behind my manic behavior?
A video diary full...

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I want more solstice evening silhouettes.
And nights of rhapsody filled with rental stars.
To explore blurred mornings when the sun rises.
With transitions dripping through the trees.

I want to know how the seasons change.
Who makes time a...

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Highly prized hopes lift up the hopeless, the needy, and the helpless again and again
When will the weight of fire on my bleeding heart be extinguished?
I wish that’d happen someday…I pray that joy will prey...

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What are fair and effective nudges
for too much freedom of wounding weaponed speech?

Maybe equal freedom to listen nutritionally
and not speak toxically?

What's a fair response
to competitive over-investment in fear-mongering--
Threats to hold your breath 'til everyone sees...

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Edna Morris lived in the town of Shadow Fells, in rich green, hilly country,
With doting parents and sister Violet, plucking fruit from their plum tree.

Pretty Edna was twelve years old, but she and Violet played...

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As the midnight
  sun cries sweet honey,  
the mourning moon
 croons caramelized deceit,  
like toffee-speckled leaves,  
whistling bewitching myths,  
seducing silenced silhouettes,  
engrossed in tangerine temptations,  
and mundane...

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“being mistook we burnt the book
thoughts rest, we dwell in our heart’s nest
touched by spirit, our body shook
by God’s light blest as we undressed” ~ Unseeking Seeker

As the sky dissolves remnants
 of scripted dogma,
to uncloak...

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One Step from the Fire

Martha lounges in her rocking chair book in knotted hand in her studio

On the wall a poster of Chipperfield Circus whom she had wanted to join

Just above a small marble statue...

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I am an unvoiced breeze~
a sea warrior 
    kite-surfing through 
    heinous waves, 
knitting cobalt chronicles 
    from smooth syllables~ 
tackling chaotic currents 
with chamomile magic...

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To the lily moon that 
 never forsakes me~
amidst the cruel constellations 
that left me stranded in 
 a melancholic maze
of rain-kissed memories.
I’ll write this prose for you,
on periwinkle paper
perfumed with geranium grace,
 in rhyme-less...

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AntiPoem 36
“Silent Mercies”

(Poet’s Instruction: Softly play in the background Mario Lanza singing
“Your Tiny Hand Is Frozen” from Puccini’s La Boheme, while reading this AntiPoem)


A

Look over there.
See the stunned grandmother knitting,
Not speaking a word neither, nor...

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Dragon is such an adorable and, yes, kindhearted, dear, little soul.
But he has a few, very, important lessons, that he has yet to learn.
Like what he can do to help our the birdies, we feed...

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I once was a
sea lavender star, 
soaked in sunsets, 
draping evenings
with soft yarns of
hydrangea haze ~
before you stole
me from those
sangria skylines like
a windswept wave,
and placed my
hyacinth heart upon
the tan throne of 
your verbena soul. 
Never...

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 I am poetry  a nightingale stringing blues 
               Of medieval lyrics---swords sliding bows.
      ...

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Daylight is shouting in my face and the cars are racing all over the place, the wind is still the sky is clear and the pilots are circulating in the air. The ocean has opened...

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Across the cracked concrete slabs,
past a fallen dogwoods left lying like so much litter;
at the red brick base of the courthouse, the jurors strode.

Through the doors too heavy for a mere woman to open unassisted;
and...

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Subway

It’s 3 a.m. on the subway.
I’m high and lonely.
A little girl in a womans body.
Oversized hoodie and ripped jeans.
Messy bun and tear stained cheeks.
An empty stomach under a shattered heart.

I can’t stand the house we...

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It's about time we talk of ruins.
So, let us talk, for you never know,
How long ears of hope will remain receptive.

Your lips are missing, and your kisses fall,
Like ripe plums and tint my confession,
Like coffee...

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Its off to grandma's old fashion cottage we go;
past snow covered pine trees all in a row.
To her humble abode adorned in holiday charm, 
And two grey horses inside the red painted  barn. 

Inside...

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Warning - Mature.

Sweet night, a blanket made from scented space - holds this would-be poet in its arms.

Tightly - yet with care.  Caring - yet with passion.  Smiles her heart.  Trembles her...

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The Lie

I am an insect waiting to be squashed!

I stare hard at the ground
as if fascinated, enthralled by it
while, above, eyes of cold-cobalt  
wait to gouge and burrow out 
any self-belief that might still...

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From the moment we became grandparents we have felt conflicted
at the way, in books and media, grandparents are depicted.

But we’ve been grandparents for a while now 
(one grandchild just graduated college)
So we believe it is...

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You dig into my skin with your claws of distrustful disdain
Why don’t you welcome the Healing rain?
I promise that it will wash away the troublesome pain 
That bullies you to the extreme – try, darling,...

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