From a poet with writers block, thank you for these prompts, Kaitlin! I've regretfully bailed on several poem a day challenges in the past year, but these prompts are really resonating with me, even if I haven't shared anything yet.
Here's what I wrote for Day 1, while sitting on a park bench. 💛
Larry, you do have such a beautiful mind, as well as heart. I love "darkening forest of the brain." I'm not used to very much tension in your poems, but I think the contrast with the softness of the ending is really lovely.
Thank you ❤️ I wrote this out loud in my car as I drove to see my dad in the ER last night. He's okay, and I knew he would be, but driving there brought this reflection.
Vivienne, 8 years old, started one today. She didn’t get to finish—she seemed a little self-conscious about not fully understanding “lifeline”—but I think she got it. I like how it begins!
You shared some of Vivienne's poems with us last year as well, didn't you? I'm so glad she's still writing! And please tell her some of the best poems are short! When I'm stuck on a prompt, I tend to lean on haiku.
The lifeline
pulls me back
to
the
reality
of a world so different
from the one to which I have escaped.
The book has come
to the end.
The movie is over.
The song has been sung.
Can’t I go back
for just a while
to that place
that doesn’t exist.
A place without war,
or hate,
hunger
or oppression.
Can I linger here in peace
just a few more minutes
before
I am drawn back to a world
so full of need
that it seems impossible
The lifeline draws me back
because someone needs me.
The lifeline runs
between us.
From a poet with writers block, thank you for these prompts, Kaitlin! I've regretfully bailed on several poem a day challenges in the past year, but these prompts are really resonating with me, even if I haven't shared anything yet.
Here's what I wrote for Day 1, while sitting on a park bench. 💛
***
I have worried too much for the future.
I have pre-grieved almost everything
as if borrowing tomorrow’s ache
will make it easier to bear,
breaking off chunks of sorrow
and throwing them like rocks
in time’s river, hoping to lighten
some future load.
Am I really so clever?
Can I really cheat sadness?
I already miss them all —
the cool spring breeze in my hair,
the sharp smell of mown grass,
the church bell striking 5
in the town square,
the robin songs and quiet thump of
a stranger’s baseball in a practice mitt.
All these will pass away, it’s true.
But today
right now
they tie me back
to solid ground.
Quicksand
Remember when we thought quicksand would be a major problem in our lives?
As if we would be innocently strolling through the jungle
Only to find ourselves trapped in a quagmire, unable to escape?
Every movement hastening our demise?
Waiting helplessly for someone to come along
With a convenient coil of rope or a lengthy branch from a nearby tree?
Only to learn later that true quicksand is more subtle sinking than supernatural suction
And the key is to relax – isn’t that always the way?
And maybe you can even save yourself.
But if you find you are still stuck and sinking, it’s important to have someone
With that coil of rope or lengthy branch to offer assistance to pull you to safety.
Thank you for being my lifeline.
May 1, 2024
Lifeline
My parents didn’t realize
Their unconditional love would be my lifeline.
God’s love running through their hearts
Tethering me for all my life.
Their Faith in God’s extreme love for us
For ALL people
Would encircle my life like a life jacket.
When grief of loss hit me like an icy, massive wave,
Like a whirlpool dragging me down to the depths,
Tearing away at what I thought was secure
So that my hurting soul raged
with questioning doubts about everything I thought I knew,
Many things washed away,
But that lifeline held tight.
It could not be undone.
That lifeline pulled me back to the surface
so I could breathe again.
Kept my head above the water,
until I could swim.
It would not let go of me.
Its patient presence invited me to receive again,
the Comfort,
the Peace,
the Power of God’s Love flowing gently,
faithfully through it
Finally,
I put my hands on it,
receiving it’s strength and slowly
Pulled myself back
out of the threatening waves, out of the shifting sand,
To stand on the rock.
She flits in the sky, capturing sunlight and breeze
strong, pulling her edgy, colorful self up to the wild blue
gentle, twirling down toward the horizon
tethered with a chain on dark cloud days
barbed wire when gales blow needle sharp rain
tangled fishing line when currents twist and turn
but, Oh...
on those take-your-breath-away eternal sky days
the connection
silky smooth
tied with a bowline knot around my full of love heart
a lifeline of Grace
You came along, a pebble skimming the surface of a still gray lake
Ripples slowly reaching me where I hid, haunted by the dark underneath, memories of drowning
The world closed down and we died, faces behind masks, outstretched arms six feet apart
And I struggled to find air and purpose and meaning amid the ripples, overcome by waves
Swelling, threatening to drown what remained of my sunken heart.
But you remained, a lifeline for my life still becoming, still learning to love and live within life’s currents.
Lifeline
.
Spinning into madness
vicious spiral stirring memories,
beautiful mind turning ugly
darkening forest of the brain
grasping for hand holds
anything to slow the decent
Into madness.
Praying for a lifeline.
.
Desperate urgency
twisting impulses,
battered compulsions
cognitive gridlock
whirling, twirling disordered
dance of broken spirit,
hoping beyond hope,
something will work.
.
Mid-day break,
slow food meal intermission
before the movie rolls again;
Young girl waiting for her lunch
asks if I like the art on the wall.
I look at the landscape painting,
smile at her excitement over
cascading explosion of colors
grateful for this sweet surprise,
this simple lifeline.
Larry, you do have such a beautiful mind, as well as heart. I love "darkening forest of the brain." I'm not used to very much tension in your poems, but I think the contrast with the softness of the ending is really lovely.
Thank you A. Reading your poems and the poetry of kindreds here and Lisa's group are true lifelines.
oh how many times
have I so desperately wanted to find you
how many minutes and hours
crying out
breaking down
grasping in the darkness
in those moments
you are elusive
non-existent
a void where hope should be
it's only after
in what feels like
another lifetime
that I can look back and see
the invisible thread that was there
to get me here
where I am now
on the other side
of the depths of despair
I didn't see you then
maybe I can't make out
your details even now
I don't understand
the how
or the why
or even the when
but a lifeline was there
you've been there every time
to pull me back from the brink
Hauntingly beautiful poem
Lifeline
By Sam Messersmith
A bee is tentatively
Perched along some boards
To the deck
I step closer
Ready to help
Instead I stop
And simply observe
What if he is sleeping?
Don't bees deserve rest?
Don't we all?
I inched closer
Unsure to leap to action
Or just be
Like he is
At rest
Living in the
Timeless present
Simply existing
Curious to know
How many existences
I've encroached upon
Eager to help
When it was
Unnecessary
Unwanted
I am not always
Here to be a lifeline
I'm here to witness
Others simply be
Bee poems are the way to my heart. I love this.
Thank you!
Nine months I grew
Insider her, a swish, a hum
The rhythm of her pulse
My heartbeat a drum
The water of the womb was all I knew
But when the doctor
Made the cut, pulled
Me out from within
It was you he gave me to
Your hands, your arms, your eyes
My first lifeline
In this breathing world
What a beautiful poem Katie. I am grateful your father is okay, and truly amazed you created this while driving> What gifts!
What a sweet tribute this is.
Thank you ❤️ I wrote this out loud in my car as I drove to see my dad in the ER last night. He's okay, and I knew he would be, but driving there brought this reflection.
I'm so glad he's okay (and that you knew he would be, because the not knowing is so stressful)!
Thank you! Yes, the not knowing is always the hardest - but he's home and doing well ❤️
I’m so glad he is okay!! And it’s a gorgeous poem ♥️♥️
Thank you! ❤️
HOLD THE LINE
This time we live in, this hourglass,
Has toppled over, rolling on its side.
We tumble around in the sandstorm
Pummeled and buried by the sands of time.
An insidious game of spin-the-bottle
Where centrifugal forces separate us even farther.
The narrow hourglass center,
a bottleneck of confusion and pride,
Narrowing our perspective
of those on the “other” side.
Someone reached out and put their hand in mine.
Palm to palm, lifeline pressed against lifeline.
So I reached out and did the same,
And so did you.
Hand to hand to hand
Creating a human line in the sand.
It stops here.
For we are not that which the line divides.
We are the line.
A singular lifeline.
Hold the line.
Beautiful!
Hold the line. YES!
In the moment when
I flail for a rope,
ready to bet my soul
on any proffered thing,
the lifeline I need
is hard and simple.
It’s simply letting go.
Oof, yes!!
This is splendid, Lisa!
Un fil rouge
comme la robe des femmes
meurtries
tuées
disparues
volées.
.
I should be writing
this poem in English
so it may be
Understood.
Tant pis.
.
Life line.
Ligne de vie
dans la paume d'une main.
Un destin lu.
Un destin vécu.
.
I wanted to write of
(the warmth of)
blood
and the fire of dragons
(against all odds)
breathing
.
burning bright as
the morning star
the red thread
weaving us all
together
within this Web of
Life.
.
- Heartbeat is a drum and a tapestry
Translation of the Frech parts:
A red thread
like the dress of women
battered
killed
disappeared
stolen.
.
I should be writing
this poem in English
so it may be understood.
Oh well.
.
Life line.
Line of life
in the palm of a hand.
Fate foretold
Fate lived
.
Thank you so much for this translation! It's a stunning poem either way, but understanding it all adds such depth to the meaning.
Thank you for sharing it in this way with us. Beautiful. ♥️
Thank you for making space for it in this way ❤️
This makes me wish I spoke French, but it's beautiful all the same. I love the way you've woven it together with the English.
Thank you! I thought not translating kept some of its heart, but I am happy to do so if you would like!
That would be lovely, but only if you want to!
I added it to the comments. :)
I call out to you, needing a lifeline,
my hand extending above the waves of
toys, books, clothes,
fear, regrets, and spirals,
pent up rage and
desires with no destination.
Sometimes I think I need you to save me
from the amount that I care.
Maybe all I really need is a connection:
to who I was before, to who we will be later;
to know I am not treading alone.
This really resonates with me. And those last three lines! That's really it, isn't it?
Lifeline
Continuum, of Great Spirit’s design
Infinity…always was and
Always will be
LIFE
Echoes of the Psalmist
I read as a child: “I knew you
Before you were in your mother’s womb…”
Remembered
Etched
Never lost
Never forgotten
Present in this bodily form
Experiencing a spiritual being
In a human form
Yet…I cannot tell the future
But…because the line is infinity
I don’t need to worry about the
Line ahead
Just walk the path of today
Given as a gift
Kay F. Klinkenborg, May 1, 2024
Vivienne, 8 years old, started one today. She didn’t get to finish—she seemed a little self-conscious about not fully understanding “lifeline”—but I think she got it. I like how it begins!
When I am sad
I like to pet my cats
They are a lifeline for me
This is so pure! Love it so much
You shared some of Vivienne's poems with us last year as well, didn't you? I'm so glad she's still writing! And please tell her some of the best poems are short! When I'm stuck on a prompt, I tend to lean on haiku.
Yes, I did! I’ll let her know 😊