PENSIEVE

Color me impressed

The entries for December's Poetic License are incredible; I've updated the original post to include all email submissions, and you should visit it and all the links for a wintertime treat.  Seriously. 

A n d, my dear poetic friends, you made it extremely difficult to choose a winner for the $25 Build a Bear giftcard!  I was certain a pensieve would win, but in the end, I chose a haiku. 

First the runners up:

Wait a second...I can't have runners up!  You know why?  I'll tell ya why:  THERE ARE TOO DAGGUM MANY!  It's ridiculous...I cannot narrow it down to two or three because each one thrills me in its own way.  So...as concession, I'm getting ready to email everyone who participated, and the first three people to email their snail mail to me will win a little surcie from the ol' PENSIEVE. 

{I do need to make mention of my friend IRL, Dawn, who emailed the MOST INSANE poem of the bunch at midnight last night.  You must click the original post link to see what I'm talkin' about.  Me thinks the pastor's wife might've been dippin' into the ol' egg nog ;).  I kid!  I kid!!}

The winning poem caught my attention because of what it communicates in just 17 syllables.  Word economy is not my strength, so when I see a haiku that nails it?  I'm enamored.  Congratulations to Sharon (not a blogger) who penned this verse:

Sweet Christmas kisses
Quick, stolen appetizers
'Neath the mistletoe

Sincere thanks for all of you who joined in; in the midst of a busy season, your creative, enthusiastic participation  was a blogging paycheck to me...:)

Pensieve, Haiku, Winter, Christmas

Surely it's still morning somewhere...right? 

After a week of unusual quietness (unless you follow me on twitter and you know **what** I've been up to--pictures HOPEFULLY to follow soon ;) ), yesterday, I fire up the ol' laptop and I watch it die right before my eyes.  I'll find out Monday if it's dead-dead or just Jack Bauer dead, and frankly, I'm pulling for Jack and his nine lives...we'll see.

A thousand apologies for taking so long to post this month's Poetic License--and THANK YOU for those of you who encouraged me with your eagerness! I'd like to think it's because of your ardent love for writing poetry, but me thinks the $25 Build a Bear giftcard might be the motivating factor :).

It was writer's choice this month, a pensieve or haiku for form, winter or Christmas for theme.  I tackled both...did you?  Link away!  A $25 gift card is waiting (to be awarded by noon Monday).

My pensieve ~

The Incarnation

Acrid, unmistakable scent of bestial den.

Underfoot, an uneven carpet of dirt, straw and manure.

The new mother muffles her own cry as she listens for His first.

His taste of humanity begins as it will end, bloodied and bruised,

Walls rough hewn and sparse, a crowded stable welcomes a King.

My haiku ~

Snowflake

Uncommon wonder

Beauty in delicate flight

Its capture, futile.

REVISED WITH READER SUBMISSIONS ~ OOPS!  I forgot to add these offered in comments, some from friends who don't have blogs.  They're good so I sure don't want you to miss 'em! :)

Sledding

Tobaggons gliding effortlessly over a white sea
Children exploding with laughter
Icy snow mischievously freezing my toes
Evergreens bestowing their sappy aroma
Velvety Cocoa warming my arctic soul

~ Kenna

Christmas cookies

Little men and stars all in a row.
The timer set and ready to go.
A delicious scent tickles my nose
My mouth watering, I stand ready afraid I'll miss.
Out of the oven and into my hand such sweet bliss.
~ Pami Kay

Sweet Christmas kisses
Quick, stolen appetizers
'Neath the mistletoe
~ Sharon

New Year's Eve

Clock chimes, melting kiss
Another year spent with you
Heart’s contented bliss
~ Heather, Sprittibee

 

Steve

Sappy, sticky, itchy a breath from brittle, Steve
Wild, thick, and heady fading …tamed to a “fresh scent”, Steve
Towering arms full of easily shattered memories, Steve
Hot, sweet coffee at six in my slippers and silence, Steve
Little boy lilting “O Christmas Tree, O Christmas tree.”  Can I name him Steve?

~ Dawn

 

Masquerade ~ November's PPL

Technical barking dogs  ringing phones  errands  guests in town  writer's block  ACCIfreakinDENTAL FINGER TWITCH THAT ERASED MY FIRST DRAFT BEFORE IT WAS SAVED difficulties this morning; so sorry this wasn't up earlier.  Truly, trust me, I couldn't be more sorry!

If you're new to Pensieve's Poetic License, please click here for this month's details; in summary, our form was English Sonnet and the theme was "masks".  I went with a figurative interpretation, and be nice to me--trying to recreate an English Sonnet that just took longer to write than you care to admit to self or others, combined with stupidity for not saving it, has left me frag-ile this morning...FRADGE-AISLE!

Please, link your posts here and be sure to visit as many participants as you can.  As always, thank you for joining in!

Masquerade

Imagination wends its way, unknown destination
Fantasy ignites, children lost in play.
Fearless knight, a princess fair, endless fascination
Gowns, crowns, jewels and heels or dragons they must slay.


Guns, holsters, cowboy hats, galloping stick horses
Custom-sewn, stitched with care, or costumes ready-made
Superheroes, caped and masked, ready to join forces
Pretending that which is not, childhood masquerade.


Wearing costumes unaware while choosing what to show
Revealing only pieces, unintentioned schemes
Sometimes holding closely, sometimes letting go.
A smile conceals the wounded heart, disguises hopeful dreams.


Counterfeit identities, toying with the truth
Playing games, make believe, not just reserved for youth.

Masked Pensieve's Poetic License for November

Many of you are going to do something this week you've never done before (or at least, haven't in years):

Write an English sonnet.

Now before you click away, I promise, it's more fun and easier than you think.  Come on...be a sport--at least give it a try! 

Pensieve's Poetic License is a monthly gathering of poets & non-poets, and you won't find a more encouraging group of bloggers & writers anywhere!   English sonnets have a simple rhyming pattern, and when you're done, you'll feel a sense of wildly creative accomplishment.

Our theme this month is "Masked"; you can go in a thousand directions with it.  If you're children just dressed up for trick or treating, perhaps write about candy and stomach aches and "scaries" that go bump in the night; with the election bearing down tomorrow, consider how the candidates choose to mask or unmask themselves; another suggestion, the way we all veil ourselves to some degree. 

Whimsical or serious, literal or figurative, I think this theme has great potential...won't you join us?

Per Wikipedia:  The proper rhyme scheme for an English Sonnet (/ represents a new stanza): a-b-a-b / c-d-c-d / e-f-e-f / g-g

The form is often named after Shakespeare, not because he was the first to write in this form but because he became its most famous practitioner. The form consists of three quatrains and a couplet. The third quatrain generally introduces an unexpected sharp thematic or imagistic "turn" called a volta. The usual rhyme scheme was a-b-a-b, c-d-c-d, e-f-e-f, g-g. In addition, sonnets are usually written in iambic pentameter, meaning that there are 10 or perhaps even 11 or 9 syllables per line, and that every other syllable is naturally accented. (Sonnets almost always have 10 syllable lines, but do not always have the natural accent.)  The sonnet must be 14 lines long, and the last two lines of the sonnet have rhyming endings (though there may be exceptions). In Shakespeare's sonnets, the couplet usually summarizes the theme of the poem or introduces a fresh new look at the theme.

Don't get hung up on iambic pentameter, but if you're an experienced writer, of course you'll want the added challenge :).

Click the badge for details and background info, and then make plans to link your post on Friday (if you let me know in comments, I'll add you to my email reminder group).  Non-bloggers are welcome to a submission in Friday's comment section. 

BTW...to sweeten the deal...a surcie will be awarded my favorite submission this month :).

Photo credit:  Venetian Mask Society

Seasonally challenged

I was wrong.  This month's Poetic License--a Fall-themed Cinquain--was neither simple nor easy for me. 

Using two of the three methods described in my previous post, I have two poems to share:

Fall
transitional, variant
changing, painting, cooling
Wardrobe confusion from brisk mornings and warm afternoons
Autumn

That was a more traditional offering; the poem below was inspired by my daughter's election as a representative of her class for homecoming court.

Homecoming

A young girl draped in sequined gown
Tonight, a princess, dream fulfilled
Kind, sweet spirit, grace, her crown
Fairytale, though fleeting, real
Inner beauty, unconcealed.

I can't wait to see how you were inspired by the theme and I sincerely HOPE the verse flowed easier for you than it did for me!  Feel free to link your posts anytime; as long as you comment to let me know, I'll receive an email that lets me know when to come knockin' on your door.

 

Autumnmatically automatic

It's the last week of the month, the first day of fall, and that can only mean one thing in the Land of PENSIEVE:

Pensieve's Poetic License!

This month's theme?  Autumn.  This month's poetic form?  Cinquain.

I'm keeping it simple and easy--no small task for the likes of me--in order to snare as many of you as possible.  Click the PPL badge for details and feel free to grab it for your post.  I'll have Mr. Linky posted here on Thursday so you can register your entries and we can wax poetic about all things Fall together :).  If you've never tried PPL before, this is the perfect time for you to dive in!

Need a refresher course on "cinquain"?   There are a couple of methods to write them; here are three suggestions from my previous post: 

[1]

Line 1:	a one-word line, a noun, that gives the poem its title
Line 2:	two adjectives that describes what the poem is about
Line 3:	three action -ing verbs that describe something the subject of the poem does
Line 4:	a phrase that indicates a feeling related to the subject of the poem
Line 5:	a one-word line, noun, that sums about the poem is about, essentially renaming it

[2]

First Line:  2 syllables - One word, giving title for your subject
Second Line: 4 syllables - Two words, describing title
Third Line:  6 syllables - Three words, expressing action
Fourth Line: 8 syllables - Four words, expressing a feeling
Fifth Line:  2 syllables - Another word for the title

[3]   A five-line stanza with a rhyme scheme of a-b-a-b-b.

With kids back in school, you're waxing poetic whether you realize it or notAugust Poetic License

Oh, how I hope you've written a back-to-school poem for Pensieve's Poetic License!  If you haven't already, it's never too late!   This month's theme--"back to school"--could lead you in a thousand directions, and for once, you have freedom to choose poetic form! 

Don't believe the lie you can't write poetry! My heart melts when writers step outside their respective comfort zones to tip-toe on uncertain ice, only to find the footing is more sure than they anticipated. 

That's groovy.  Very.

Because I'm still establishing the "pensieve" as a substantive poetic form (if you thought I was kidding, you'd be wrong), that is the form I chose this month.  The beauty of the pensieve is, because it engages the five senses, the reader draws from the writer's experience and can more fully appreciate their perspective.  That's the goal, anyway.

Link yours anytime--and be sure to visit as many participants as you can.  Encouragement and community are a lovely by-product of PPL.  Feel free to grab a badge to post with your entry, too! 

Back to School

Colorful sale flyers woo and lure,
capturing attention, dollars..and SENSE!
A ravenous appetite for new shoes, clothes & supplies, sometimes bitter, sometimes sweet.
Aroma of "football weather" on its way,
as leaves inflame and cooler mornings extinguish
the lingering scent of dog-days.
A dull-but-growing roar of children anticipating return,
equal measures of excitement and dread.
Heart-sting from independent tug away,
yet relief of a moment's silence.

Forgive me: sometimes the high school cheerleader in me resurfaces in the most unlikely of places

"Come on, come on, you know you'll have a GOOD time,
Come on, come on, you KNOW you'll have a good time--
Cruuuuise with us!  Hey, cruuuuise with us..."

WHY.in.THE.WORLD this chant is sing-songing in my brain is well beyond my powers of reasoning, but as I sat down to write a post to invite you to join this month's Poetic License it was begging--YES, in my spirit, BEGGING--to jump onto the page. 

Cheerleading is poetry in motion, no? 

Well, here I am in all my high school glory, circa 1980, hair hot-rolled and shellacked with half a can of Rave hairspray--an avalanche couldn't undo that do!  These tools were necessary in order to maintain my perfectly-feathered coiffure while doing herkies and toe touches, a skill that hasn't quite followed me into my 40s (<---click only if you want to laugh AT me, not WITH me!).

But I digress.  We're supposed to be talking poetry.  I promisepromisePROMISE this is NOT classic "bait-and-switch" and me uploading pictures of me wearing a short skirt is NOT false advertising. 

Pensieve's Poetic License is back, and lest you've wondered where it's been, I've moved it to the LAST week of the month rather than the first.  Click the button for complete PPL details; in short, it's a fun exercise designed to stretch you a bit creatively, even if you haven't written poetry since, well...high school! 

This month's theme is..........BACK TO SCHOOL!!  See?  The picture DOES fit the theme!   To make it even wilder and crazier, THERE IS NO REQUIRED POETIC FORM--I'm leaving it up to YOU!  Fancy haiku?  Knock your socks off! Have an affinity for Italian sonnet (not to be confused with an English sonnet)?  Buono fortuna! Want to get my attention?  Limericks do it every time. And if you want me to fall in love with you, move to Utah, convert to Mormonism, become a polygamist and MARRY YOU??  Well, you're out of luck, but if you write a Pensieve?  I will love, cherish and admire you forEVAH.

Get crackin' people--invite your readers to join you because I have missed Poetic License so much I want to read a thousand back-to-school poems!  Or a few less.  Write yours anytime between now and Thursday; THEN, my own back-to-school poem will be posted along with Mr. Linky for you to link yours.  Even if you don't (yet) have a blog, write one and post it in comments.

Can't wait!  See ya then!!

Under normal conditions, tiramisu and water bottles have nothing in common

{PPL participants, please be sure and read my note
at the bottom of this post, right above Mr. Linky.}

It's the one time of the month world's collide, at least in the Universe of Pensieve:

Poetic License and Friday's 40-or-less Photo Challenge

Rather than repeating what has already been explained, I encourage you to click the above links if you have no idea what I'm talking about:). 

I have to interject, though, THANK YOU for legitimizing the "pensieve"; when I crafted the poetic form, I had reason to shake in my shoes--the few who posted early have jazzed my poetic soul!  Y'all amaze me :).

For your convenience (and mine), I'm including both entries in one post, and for goodness sakes, while you're busy clicking your co-conspirator's links, be sure to let me know what you think of mine--good, bad or ugly!  If you've ever hosted a Mr. Linky, you already know it's not uncommon for readers to "forget" the host :).  Be sure to identify your permalinks with "PPL" or "F40" or "Both" depending on your posting.

My offering for Poetic License ~ A pensieve complete with a photo for my muse this morning:

Tiramisu
Mountains of whipped cream and chocolate and cake
Celestial layers silently awaiting their fate
Slight hint of coffee, aromatic surprise
Squishy delight on my tongue, it just smiled!
Meal's punctuation--a taste of perfection.

Friday's 40-or-less Photo Challege:

Pure and clear,
Quenches and satisfies,
Refreshing and life-giving--
No wonder Jesus compared Himself to it.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A note of sympathy ~ I have no idea what "blog protocol" is on things like this, but I thought participants of Pensieve's Poetic License would want to know that Inheritor's wife suffered a fatal heart attack week before last (he wrote to let me know because a post of his is scheduled for publication on Blog Nosh Magazine, and he asked for that to be postponed).  Inheritor has been a regular contributer to PPL since its beginning, and my heart and prayers go out to him and his family.  I was touched by the poetic tribute he pays to his wife this month, a pensieve that will surely reach you as well.

Making literary history, literallyJuly's Pensieve's Poetic License: a PENSIEVE?!

Rarely am I one to point a finger of accusation at anyone else--I'm well aware three fingers are pointing back at me in return.  This time, however, I'm more than happy to assign blame. 

For months now, Brandon (Words of Redemption) has suggested I'm making up poetic forms for Pensieve's Poetic License (documented here and here).  Hmph!  My goal for PPL has always been to encourage non-poets (un-poets?  poet-impaireds?) to step out of their writing-comfort zone and try their hand at something new.  Along the way, I've stumbled across poetry forms I've never even heard of, so this is a stretch for me as well.

I love exercising my creative gene...and it's no exaggeration to say it's a THRILL when "you" join me!  I KNOW many PPL participants have never written poetry before, they shake in their shoes when they click "publish", and they feel naked and exposed to share their attempts with the interwebs.  Every month--every submission--touches and inspires me in some way...but mostly leaves me feeling like a proud mama, realizing that my babies courageously stepped onto the ice and found solid footing beneath.

Which brings us to this month's poetic form:  a Pensieve

Yes, Brandon, I'm f i n a l l y making one up...and it's all.your.fault!

Thank you.

While we were on vacation, Brandon's friendly teasing prompted a "why not?" in my mind and a poetic form began to take shape .  Poetry at its best invites the reader into the author's thoughts; you feel what they felt when writing it even if you don't completely understand it or know the back-story.  Words brushstroke masterpieces; not with paint on canvas, but with imagery that speaks to and evolves from our need to create. 

Our need to create.   (Hmmm, because we're created in the image of God whose creativity knows no bounds, it's small wonder this is inherent "need" in our lives...whoa, Nellie, now THAT is seed for later thought...Heather & Erin--why am I thinking of y'all right now, lol?)

What is a Pensieve?  A titled, five-line poem; each line correlates to one of the five senses--sight, sound, scent, taste, touch--and describes the subject (title).  The goal is for the reader to take on the poem as his own, being able to "experience" your subject through your words, by seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting and feeling what you described.  (If you're looking for an alternate definition of "pensieve" and found this post via a search engine, please click here.)

The style is reflective and should leave the reader with lingering thoughts. The name for this poetic form is somewhat of a play on words:  the subject is word-drawn from a memory (from the writer's "pensieve" :) ) and reflected upon by both writer and reader, pensively.

Will you join me for this month's Poetic License?  Will you help launch this new poetic form?  Will I be the only one tip-toeing on the ice this time around?  Even if you've never tried PPL before...I would love the company.  Inventing poetic forms is kind of scary, and it sure would be nice to do so among friends.

Here's one to get you started; if you'd like to write a Pensieve, post it, then check back here on Friday to link your submission (leave a comment here to let me know your plans, and I'll send you a reminder email when the link is active).

Beach Perpetual motion, waves of blue blanket carpets of white.
Never-ending curtain-call of thunderous applause,
insisting "the show must go on".
Tightly closed lips and defiant clenched teeth--
no match for the salty drink she imposes
Briny scent inhabits each breath,
aroma familiar and certain and welcome
Feet burrow in sugared grains,
skin tingles as sun dries, then bakes, to golden.