Tag Archives: love

Two Spring Poems | Jamie Dedes

January is on the Wane


Jamie Dedes

after Sor Juan Inez de la Cruz’ Rosa divina

January is on the wane leaving behind early dark
and champagne hopes for the genus Rosa.

Garden roses want pruning now, solicitous cultivation.
Layer shorter under taller, drape on trellises
and over pergolas, the promise of color and scent,
climbers retelling their stories in a ballet up stone walls,
an heirloom lace of tea roses, a voluptuous panorama
rhymed with shrubs and rockroses in poetic repetition.
Feminine pulchritude: their majesties in royal reds
or sometimes subdued in pink or purple gentility,
a cadmium-yellow civil sensibility, their haute couture.

Is it the thorny rose we love or the way it mirrors us
in our own beauty and barbarism, our flow into decrepitude?
They remind of our mortality with blooms, ebbs, and bows
to destiny. A noble life, by fate transformed in season.
Divinely fulsome, that genus Rosa, sun-lighted, reflexed.

And January? January is ever on the wane.

©2017 Jamie Dedes



One Lifetime After Another


Jamie Dedes

one day, you’ll see, i’ll come back to hobnob
with ravens, to fly with the crows at the moment
of apple blossoms and the scent of magnolia ~
look for me winging among the white geese
in their practical formation, migrating to be here,
to keep house for you by the river…

i’ll be home in time for the bees in their slow heavy
search for nectar, when the grass unfurls, nib tipped ~
you’ll sense me as soft and fresh as a rose,
as gentle as a breeze of butterfly wings . . .

i’ll return to honor daisies in the depths of innocence,
i’ll be the raindrops rising dew-like on your brow ~
you’ll see me sliding happy down a comely jacaranda,
as feral as the wind circling the crape myrtle, you’ll
find me waiting, a small gray dove in the dovecot,
loving you, one lifetime after another.

©2017 Jamie Dedes



 

Jamie—FullSizeRender.jpg


Jamie Dedes: Freelance: poetry, short stories and feature articles. Blogger: “Poetry champion” at The Poet by Day featuring underrepresented voices, poetry initiatives for peace, sustainability and social justice and poetry news, events and publication opportunities. Debut coming: Coffee, Tea and Poetry, which you can bookmark now. Founded: The Bardo Group (virtual) in 2011, founding/managing editor of The BeZine and, in 2012, began an annual September virtual event, The BeZine 100,000 Poets for Change. Former writing gigs include associate editor to the California Job Journal and newspaper columnist, On the Job Front, for six years.


The BeZine April 15th, 2017, Issue will be dedicated to (Inter)National Poetry Month—I am a Contributing Editor and serve as the lead editor for this issue. Please check it out! —Michael


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Saturday evening song

Song of Obscurity

Michael Dickel

There is in the clay you are formed from
a language we know to perform.
We cannot wake it up from the dead.
So, we play linguistic games instead.

I’m radically unfocused trying to learn
the hocus-pocus of a life I never understood.
Our ghosts grab at ankles which mostly
just rankles, and the ashes fade as they burn.
The ashes burn in the storm.

Pigeons quietly wing from open mouths—
singing their own private woes they drop
stones from their feathers on couples
in leather marked with letters
I cannot gather in.

I’m highly provoked while drinking my Coke
in the midst of a grand nightstand next to
my right hand where dreams fall into line
behind the next sign that the world will
come to an end. The words never end.

We lost our inhibitions while taking positions
behind socially-mediated lines, while fictional
friction resisting depiction pornographically
aligns the clay in your hands into lime.

The graves are purified, their atmosphere
rarified, while artists fill them in. Spectral
photographers and holy lithographers dance
to the rhythm of gin. I’ll offer you whiskey,
something quite risky, if you would gather them in.

Won’t you gather them in?

You kiss my lips before leaving the room,
brushing the cobwebs with your labial broom,
leaving me hanging like a picture on the wall.
The clay has gone dry while I kept asking, “why?”
I play a jazz chord to honor the world we build.

Your clay sculpture collapses while my guitar
relapses and my synapses explode. The door
to our room has married the floor and together
they lock us in this hole. We fall alone into this hole.

Now the words end the world and the ashes
burn birds while leather stones a couple in bed.

Won’t you gather them in?

Now the words end the world and the ashes
burn stones while birds lift the couple from bed.

Won’t you gather them in?

 

obscurity-poem-blog-web

Bird a-fire
Digital art from online photos
©2016 Michael Dickel

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Summer—prose poem with frogs

Summer, a poem by Michael Dickel

Summer
poem & digital art ©2015 Michael Dickel

Summer

Frog by dripping water Photo ©2015 Michael Dickel

Frog by dripping water
Photo ©2015 Michael Dickel

Summer prattles on like a chorus of croaking frogs about all of its deep pleasures with open desire, while winter indulgently listens, knowing the strength of her own secrets. Parties all unfold this way. Spring tries to enchant, while fall quietly stands by, his eyes glinting with nostalgia that no one quite understands. So, my lovely pond, what more do you offer on this hot, July day? A few minnows skim the underside of the surface in a tangle of protective growth. The bits of daydream we’ve left behind, these minnows know that the sky could drown them. So, the Hebrew for sky means the waters. And water means life, especially in the desert and around its margins. To find the center of heat, the driest spot, the place where even a lizard thirsts, is to find love through its absence. The chorus croaks, winter nods and laughs perfunctorily. Enchantments fail, fall remembers the spell. And I loved you in your presence and your absences,

Frog peeking out Photo ©2015 Michael Dickel

Frog peeking out
Photo ©2015 Michael Dickel

remembered you in my absences and present. The past falls. The future freezes our bodies. I’ll listen to the summer prattle and dripping water that soothes us all. I’ll fly like a dragonfly just out of reach. And you will sing out loud what we never whispered in the night, pillows muffling our thoughts, the day slipping away yet again.

Lily pad frogs Digital art / photo ©2015 Michael Dickel

Lily pad frogs
Digital art / photo
©2015 Michael Dickel

Rose art Digital art ©2015 Michael Dickel

Rose art
Digital art
©2015 Michael Dickel

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Teaching & Learning English—Infographics

These are infographics about English and its teaching from the Fun Facts / Infographics blog at Kaplan International English. Kaplan borrowed some of these from other sources.

words with multiple meaningsKaplan International Colleges

how to teach englishKaplan How to Teach English infographic

how to learn english

How to learn EnglishKaplan

inspire language learningLearn English with Kaplan

love learning English infographicLove learning English with Kaplan

English for teenagersEnglish for Teenagers Kaplan infographic

Most Common Phrasal Verbs

Another infographic for phrasal verbs

Phrasal Verbs—Infographic Kaplan

UK English versus American spelling Kaplan

US list of commonly misspelled English words

Most Misspelled Words(Kaplan)

UK list of commonly misspelled English words

Most Misspelled Words(Kaplan)


The 12 Most Misunderstood Words in English

Top Languages on the Internet

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Four poems on Sound Cloud

An Australian online radio station Phoenix FM DJ, James WF Roberts, read four of my poems 16 November 2012 (around 9:15 am Eastern US Time): Dissonance, Salvation, Peace requires…, and In Jerusalem. Interesting, emotional, Australian-accented reading that gives the poems a power I didn’t previously know they had.

Listen to the poems here.

Within an hour of this reading my lovely wife, Aviva, called to say that she heard air raid sirens and (distant) blasts in Jerusalem, where we live. I’m in the US tending to some business here, but have a sudden urge to go back and hold my wife and 2-year old son. If things get worse in Jerusalem, perhaps we will have to consider whether they should come here. It’s very scary and upsetting for me right now. Listen to these poems–they speak to and against violence and war.

Digital art from photo, two men, Israel

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Filed under Anti-war, Digitial Humanities, Peace, Poetry, Politics, Violence, War, Writing