“This page is lit by candles of the past.” Billy Collins
A friend shared notes from a Master Class presented via Zoom by Billy Collins, poet laureate (2001-2003) This quote was his parting last line. And there is was…the title of my next poem.
This Page is Lit By Candles of My Past
Words seem to spring out of nowhere If I don’t grab them They vanish like dust Into thin air
I hear things in rhyme Moments measured in beat Frustrated with odd endings Pacing, I retreat
Then I hear it…
Everything rhymes Then sometimes nothing fits But it’s never a problem Just move things around a little bit
I go back… and sit
Somehow, it seems I’ve been drawn to this time And it’s my job now To make the words rhyme
And they dance. But they’re not all mine.
Remember, this page is lit With candles of your past It’s your turn to paint with words Carry on. Make the images last
The title inspired by American poet, Billy Collins. The entire quote goes like this: "Your page is lit by the candles of the past, all the writers that have helped you to write."
The title inspired by American poet, Billy Collins. The entire quote goes like this: "Your page is lit by the candles of the past, all the writers that have helped you to write."
It Takes A Village To Raise A Child (African Proverb)
“It takes a village to raise a child.” No truer words ever spoken. It’s taken a shutdown, a pandemic To understand. Eyes wide open.
Together, we nourish a child’s brain It’s the village that helps them grow. The world becomes much smaller then As we work together to show…
The wonders that surround them The beauty and the beasts. So many things to discover By the children at our feet.
Unfortunately, a pandemic Shut the village down. Parents, alone, have carried on Though, impossible to get around.
Children need the village; Museums, libraries, the zoo. Different experiences, other children And trained teachers in a school.
Children need to experience Dancing and singing and competitions too. It was the village that gave children So many things to do.
It takes a village to raise a child Words so profoundly true. It’s up to us to make it safe So these children can grow up too!
In honor of all the parents who have worked to carry on during the pandemic of 20-21 and to all the children who are waiting…waiting for their time to explore the world.
The title inspired by American poet, Billy Collins. The entire quote goes like this: "Your page is lit by the candles of the past, all the writers that have helped you to write."
This poem, Word Magic, was written earlier in January when so many news stories were focused still on the November election, the insurrection on January 6 of the Capital, and the upcoming inauguration. The news was filled with stories; some deemed to be false but still passionately held as beliefs, so were stories of the growing number of hate groups that few of us knew existed. This poem is my plea for people to pay attention to their words. Understand the harm that is caused by them if not kept in check.
Word Magic
“In the beginning was the word…” And the word was planted Like a seed in the fertile ground> And it created a world.
The world, so powerful, Like pure magic Strung together, it formed Beautiful dreams.
But people were not careful With the word. They did not choose wisely Instead words spread anger, hate, judgement, and lies.
The word is magic; The greatest gift of all Yet if misused It creates a dream of Hell.
Black Magic Puts spells on people. Opinions and lies Spread like invasive weeds.
We, human beings, own the power Of the word. We need to own the seeds Planted by us as well.
Our seeds, Our garden. Plant with care. Control the weeds and Beautiful flowers will grow.
2021, let this be the year of the word. Rid your garden of gossip and Conspiracy theories Intended to sow fear and distrust.
Instead spread sees of acceptance And understanding. Speak with love, truth, and inclusion. Watch pure magic bloom.
I wrote this poem, in February after listening to Amanda Gorman deliver her poem at the Inaugaration on January 20 called “The Hill We Climb”. It was such an incredible moment. Our poetry group talked about it at our next session. Each of us has some piece that stood out to us. My focus was on her timing for reading each line – how she’d flow from one line to another without pause and then stop on a specific word as emphasis.
I then wrote “It’s Time” as a way to try her approach but share it now as a way to honor the end of Black History Month with a hope that we keep working on equality for all. It’s Time!
The title inspired by American poet, Billy Collins. The entire quote goes like this: "Your page is lit by the candles of the past, all the writers that have helped you to write."
Sitting awhile to rest Thinking// on my feelings today. In the background plays Neil Diamond’s songs to //Jonathon…Livingston…Seagull.
You know that bird who Had// to do things his own way And// was filled with soaring above The normal// and endlessly// dull?
Well today// the sun is shining Through windows// of previous pain But like Jonathon, we can not rest in this moment Because// there’s much more ground to be gained.
So// I hesitate to be grateful But I do feel like// we’re soaring again. And now that we’ve learned more about ourselves// It’s time// to get to work, my friends.
We have to demand better of ourselves What//have we done of late? “We’ve learned quiet isn’t always peace.” So we// have to bust through it.
What have we done To counteract// our ugly history of hate? To rectify ignorance? Speak truth to lies? It’s time// to measure up. // It’s our time// to do it!
Waiting on my muse to arrive In the meantime I’ll stay busy Maybe get some fresh air Go out for a drive.
Words are floating All around I just need to capture some.
I’m waiting, Inspiration It’s time for you to come.
(Sunday) I Have Nothing
My words are coming in scattered This week, no poet in me.
Fragmented thoughts Silly images Nonsense words are all I see.
Rambling Bits and pieces No focus, this week is a mess.
My muse has Gone on vacation, I guess And left me here while she rests.
If nothing lasts forever Then nothing it may be Unless that muse returns With gifts of words for me.
(Early Monday Morning)
Seriously?
I waited around for Inspiration But she was nowhere to be found Then I called out to my muse And she seemed to be out of town.
“Oh well,” I thought, “maybe another time I’m sure they’ll return again.” But I didn’t expect banging on my brain At 3 A…M…! Why then?
My muse had been on a vacation And I know this will sound absurd But there she was on my bed Dumping out a souvenir bag full of words.
“Here ya go, Sweetie. I didn’t forget. I collected these while I was away.” Well great! I’m glad you came back to me But it’s 3 AM. Leave me alone. Go away!
Then Inspiration pops her head in And says, “Can I come in bed with you too? I have this great idea And I just couldn’t wait to tell you.”
Oh, for goodness sake. I guess I might as well get up! I’m going to go make some coffee. Anyone else want a cup?
The title inspired by American poet, Billy Collins. The entire quote goes like this: "Your page is lit by the candles of the past, all the writers that have helped you to write."
Painting With Words 