The Weekly Avocet, every Wednesday! December 26, 2012 Hello, welcome to our second Wednesday of Nature poetry. I hope you are enjoying your Holiday Season! And, have a Happy New Year of Poetry in 2013! I received quite a few letters hearing that you were writing to each other, finding out you as poets have a lot in common. I have always enjoyed writing to a poet whose work has moved me, especially if it is a poem I wish I wrote. We can learn so much from each other, since there really are no rules for poetry. It is free to do what the poets’ imagination can put into words, what the muse can bring the hand to write. I’ve decided it should be four or more Wednesdays; such fine poetry to pick from. Each week, each Wednesday, I will send out four or more poems written about our outside world that surrounds us by our poets, Poets of the Avocet. We are the lucky ones, the lucky poets, who have nature for inspiration. Nature is everywhere, like poetry is everywhere, in every one. If you haven’t, yet, sent in one nature winter-themed poem (please, only one) please do! Enjoy our second Wednesday… 1.
Please feel free to forward The Weekly Avocet to family, friends, foes, and any others you might know. Please share your poetry with others. If you like a poem please let the poet know it. We all like it when another poet takes the time to write us about our work. Our first poem this week comes from Peter Leverich, Editor, whose last issue of the Avocet will be arriving very soon, early January. I have loved being seen upon the pages of Peter’s Avocet. I want to thank him for all the years of pleasure he has given me. I first started writing Nature poetry after reading a sample copy of the Avocet. Thank you, Peter, for all your hard work and kind words. December Gray skies and the slate blue bay make a pewter wedge on the western shore, gulls dyed to match almost impossible to see, beach grass blanched the shade of winter wheat; coldness lends clarity to the water, sharpens perception and clears the mind. With barely a week until Christmas there is nothing in nature to say it is so, unless the shortest day makes the merriest night, a dearth of color paints the brightest hue, and monochrome is gift enough.
Peter Leverich Peter@AvocetReview.com
The best way to succeed as a Poet is to read, read, read other Poets‌
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One Blue Spruce At the solstice, in a woods we planted years ago, I heard the red tailed hawk’s cry against the peerless morning sky– And I could barely speak, intoxicated by the smells of cold and evergreen, sounds of past Christmases, where the dead remembered on that walk pinched our cheeks red – our blood heated to the task of picking the perfect tree . . . Was this ritual for them or us? Were we any closer to having our own lives, or is this still their bidding? I counted eleven rings, from the pith to the edge of bark, unfolding like a prayer– amber sap yielding quiet tears that hardened into our living here. M .J. Iuppa mjiuppa@rochester.rr.com First published by Flint Hills Review; included in Within Reach (Cherry Grove Collections, 2010)
“I write therefore, I am.” Samuel Johnson
Ice out Worn tectonic plates four inches thick Melting into cold slush Grays under a bulbous pewter sky I dream awake to such metallic violence Erupted out of that chilly metaphor of continental Thrust and succumbing wet movement Sliding back and forth atop The inviting depth of heat But only because I said what I said To myself and my pen and the smooth ice Of white paper For 3.
It is only a lake surface White ice shifting with wind plowing A cracked surface to slide over A gentle gray force of old and tender ice All no more violent than seasonal melt No less tender than Earth’s roiled surface In Earth’s ancient seasons of ice Thaw and renewal And renewal Richard Fenton Sederstrom 4ichard_sederstrom1221@q.com Published in Talking Stick 21 “There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, there is a rapture on the lonely shore, there is a society, where none intrudes, by the deep sea, and music in its roar; I love not man the less but nature more.” – Lord Byron
Winter Symphony Sobranes Point Melted ice caps rise and uneasily roll over tectonic cracks. Elements blur, pastel and explosive cobalt rammed against stone at the roiling edge of a crumbling world. Stubborn intentions collide, roar watery oaths, pitch ashore weathered granite, disrupted ellipses of rubbery kelp.
Pale detonations cough against pebbles and sand. 4.
Furious glaciers from harsher centuries blast solid shale into quivering portals, punch crude blowholes through front lines of surrendering earth. Jennifer Lagier jenniferlagier-poet@yahoo.com
SMELLS LIKE SNOW
“Smells like snow,” my grandfather said, as we walked his slow walk down to our barn. The steel gray December sky surrounded us. Moisture rushed into our every breath. “Smells like snow,” my father said, as we walked the cold walk down to our barn. The early morning air heavy with sighs, our breath seen upon release. Smells like snow I thought to myself, as I trudged once again down to my barn. The air, fresh and sweet somehow; I feel it and know it in my bones. “Smells like snow,” my son said, as we hurried, me smiling, down to our barn. Dee Matthews teach54pe@yahoo.com
Great poems have a Universal voice. They speak to the reader’s heart, make them think…
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Winter in Costa Rica
You know it’s going to/be a perfect day when Sun shines on your laundry first thing Before the rains begin again Light from the curtains brushes your hair/back From your forehead Like mother’s morning touch Her peoples’ call/sweeps over hillside pasture Glistens gold on coffee, converses with cane Lingers in cleavage, voluptuous mango Whispers weather predictions to the attentive avocado nearby While laundry lines reveal last night’s secrets/before noon More species in a minute or a lifetime/somewhere else Nature is keen on herself in a new dress Sprouting diversity from destruction where thought meets Reality in the simplest form/you plant seeds From finished fruit, from that place in your mind Where desire meets detachment Just to see it grow/with no regard for the outcome I took a step outside/one/and never left it Until the rain came again Yellow secrets retracted, fading to white/light on your face like a smile you didn’t even know you were wearing until someone said so Then observed, it grew What bliss in elemental design/disproves humanity Last year, we prayed for rain And this, your tears/a miraculous recovery Laughter in the organ/pipe of true intimacy, no one Laughs like you/without knowing why/I let myself Go/arrange the day So I can be/with/you Life is simple You drink rain, smile sunshine Your breath is the warm blanket My mother used to tuck me in at night Her face raw from the cold Last year, we prayed for rain And this… Jessica Manley 6essica.manley@gmail.com 6.
A poem can take only a minute to read, yet, live with the reader for a lifetime!!! I just finished reading Mary Jo Balistreri’s “gathering the harvest, poems.” What a wonderful poetic achievement. I will begin reading it again to review for the Spring issue of the Avocet. So many wonderful poems to learn from, a steal of a deal of enjoyment. Please write her for details - joeybfl@gmail.com It’s a rare thing that’s better than getting a letter from another poet letting you know what they think of your work. Please write to each other. It makes poetry even more fun when we know the other poets, learn from each other. We hope we provoked you to thought; that you leave having experienced a complete emotional response to the poetry. I want to thank our Poets for sharing their work with us this week. And, “Thank you for reading, dear reader!” Again, If you haven’t, yet, sent in one nature winter-themed poem (please, only one) please do! But, remember it is one poem, per poet, per season for The Weekly Avocet’s guidelines. Be well, see you next Wednesday Charles Portolano Editor of the Avocet, a Journal of Nature Poetry Please visit our website www.AvocetReview.com
Guidelines for
The Weekly Avocet every Wednesday, an email of Nature Poetry
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Please send only one poem, per poet, per season. Let’s do winter-themed poetry for now. Please no more than 38 lines per poem. Please use single spaced lines. Please use the Times New Roman - 12pt. font. Please send your submission to angeldec24@hotmail.com Please remember, previously published poems are fine to send. Please always put your name and email address under your work, thank you. I love getting poems sent to my computer. What a great way to start any day. A wonderful website is Garrison Keillor's Writer’s Almanac, every day one poem and lots of Art history. Please check it out:
http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/ I start everyday reading it, great fun!!!!
Hope to see you next week on Wednesday, thank you! Be well, keep warm, Charles Portolano Editor of the Avocet If you want off of this emailing list, please write Unsubscribe in the subject line. Thank you for reading...
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