New Pantoum–Hot off the Press!–by Joan Logghe

Joan Logghe wrote this yesterday in a high school class I was teaching. She came to intro me and stayed to write. Enjoy!

First World Worst Case Scenarios

Back on antidepressants in the first world
I sing “Placido Domingo” in my sleep
Last night I dreamed an apocalyptic triptych
All my dreams somehow sing opera

I sing “Placido Domingo” in my sleep
I advise chopping jalapenos
In all my dreams somebody is singing opera
Various cases of worst case scenarios

I am still chopping jalapenos
This is not a Jewish thing to do
rather various verses of worst case scenarios
I remain optimistic with high cholesterol

That is not a Jewish thing to do.
I drink a green drink, eat egg salad
I remain optimistic despite high cholesterol
Growing old is not a drag yet

I drink a green drink, eat eggs scrambled
It couldn’t get any sweeter that you
Getting old is not a drag yet
even though the Rolling Stones think so

It couldn’t get any sweeter than this
Last night I dreamed an apocalyptic triptych
Especially the Rolling Stones look weathered
Back on antidepressants in the first world

Pantoum by Lisa Powers

Wonder

Bring me wonder
with inimitable glow
of essence found
in a relentlessly shaking universe

With inimitable glow
wonder extent, full of facts
in a relentlessly shaking universe
to explain the beach and sunset colors

Wonder extent, full of facts
reckon theologies before and after
to explain the beach and sunset colors
lessening climatic inference to a splendorous zenith

Reckon theologies before and after
resolute wonder, full of birds
lessening climatic inference to a splendorous zenith
with camouflage that changes colors in the jungle

Resolute wonder, full of birds
of perfection found
with camouflage that changes colors in the jungle
in remorseless recombining alchemy

Perfection found
in aging skin that changes my form
in remorseless recombining alchemy
belittling redundant transitions for human immortality

Aging skin that changes my form
dogmatic wonder reveals
belittling redundant transitions for human immortality
seeking respite

Dogmatic wonder reveals
continual pulsing neurons
seeking respite
to deny infinite possibility’s continual stagnating angst

Continual pulsing neurons
fortifying wonder
to deny infinite possibility’s continual stagnating angst
for decisive sparks

Fortifying wonder
desquamate intents created from singular ideation
for decisive sparks
not arriving too early or too late

Desquamate intents created from singular ideation
for pneumatic wonder
not arriving too early or too late
with no precise mate not to hate

For pneumatic wonder
explain to the ancestors time’s reposing colorless breath
with no precise mate not to hate
that nags which, when, why, how

Explain to the ancestors time’s reposing colorless breath
show me wonder
that nags which, when, why, how
disparities won and lost

Show me wonder
reducing exclusion from glorious completion
disparities won and lost
in relentlessly dilating chaos

Reducing exclusion from glorious completion
bringing exuberant wonder
in relentlessly dilating chaos
dancing, full of tricks

Bringing exuberant wonder
of essence found
dancing, full of tricks
bring me wonder

Pantoum: Vicissitudes of Life by Yun-Hui Tsai

Vicissitudes of Life by Yun-Hui Tsai

White snow melts into pure water
Irrigating all the withered trees
Blossoming lives have no border
The best practice is diligence

Irrigating all the withered trees
Monsoon rain sings song of the Earth
The best practice is diligence
We plant, weed, cultivate and breath

Monsoon rain sings song of the Earth
Nature paints the land like an artist
We plant, weed, cultivate and breath
Finally we bend and reap the harvest

Nature paints the land like an artist
Until frost brings the new melody
Finally we bend and reap the harvest
Hibernating in serenity

Until frost brings the new melody
The seasons go round and round
Hibernating in serenity
Waiting like a seed in the ground

The seasons go round and round
White snow melts into pure water
Waiting like a seed in the ground
Blossoming lives have no border

Pantoum by Sara Zink

Mirror, Mirror by Sara Zink

The widowed King takes a bodacious wife
she’s called the fairest of them all
a beautiful Queen with a looking glass
she corrupts his soul and destroys his family

she’s called the fairest of them all
the talking mirror speaks the truth
she corrupts his soul and destroys his family
a tantalizing siren obsessed with her image

the talking mirror speaks the truth
yet, her beauty is surpassed by her stepdaughter
she corrupts his soul and destroys his family
the jealous vamp is a villainous puppet master

yet, her beauty is surpassed by her stepdaughter
this blood spattered bride seeks revenge
the jealous vamp is a villainous puppet master
left for dead is her chaste adversary

this blood spattered bride seeks revenge
sacks her rival and regains her rank
left for dead is her chaste adversary
the Queen mirrors “fairest of them all.”

Torah Portion: Pantoum by Miriam Sagan

Torah Portion

ark on the high seas
shaman down the well
mother of my mothers says
“give me children or I will die”

shaman down the well
digs and wolves might mate again
“give me children or I will die”
on a bloodstained cloak

digs and wolves might mate again
you didn’t know who you were
on a bloodstained cloak
or in what part of the story

you didn’t know who you were
between oasis and desert
or in what part of the story
a raven, or a dove

between oasis and desert
mother of my mothers says
“a raven, or a dove?”
ark on the high seas.

Bipolar: Pantoum by Matt Lewis

Scattered thoughts dot my mind
Random urges that push and pull
Twisting and turning, tangled threads
Jumbled knots that leave me stymied

Random urges that push and pull
Frustrated attempts to organize
Jumbled knots that leave me stymied
Picking away at my sanity

Frustrated attempts to organize
Thoughts that race to and fro
Picking away at my sanity
Sabotaging my happiness

Thoughts that race to and fro
Battering my soul with their constant chatter
Sabotaging my happiness
Pushing me to the edge of the abyss

Battering my soul with their constant chatter
I just want them to stop
Pushing me to the edge of the abyss
Clouding my judgement

I just want them to stop
Peace, please, anything but this constant noise
Clouding my judgement
Blessings tired to curses

Anything but this constant noise
I can’t believe I ever longer for this
Blessings tired to curses
Creativity’s bastard brother on speed

I can’t believe I ever longer for this
I longer for inspiration
Creativity’s bastard brother on speed
Any idea to get the juices flowing

I longer for inspiration
My mind turn to mud
Any idea to get the juices flowing
Pull me from this quagmire

My mind is mud
Sinking, spiraling thoughts
Pull me from this quagmire
And keep me from obsession

Sinking, spiraling thoughts
Drain the happiness from life
Keep me from obsession
Lest my head slips below the surface

Drain the happiness from my life
Clear away the fog
Lest my head slips below the surface
Plant my feet and fight back

Clear away the fog
Search for inspiration
Plant my feet and fight back
Against the sucking morass beneath

Search for inspiration
Anything to strike a spark
Against the sucking morass beneath
Free the wings to fly

Anything to strike a spark
Updrafts that fill my soul
Free the wings to fly
And soar among the clouds of creativity

Updrafts that fill my soul
Twisting, turning, tangles
Soar among the clouds of creativity
Random urges begin to push and pull.

Poetry Month #24: Sandhill Cranes Pantoum by Ursula Moeller

One of the most read poems on the blog–Poetry Month #24

Miriam's Well: Poetry, Land Art, and Beyond

Sandhill Cranes, Bosque del Apache

Orion overhead, nature’s cycles,
our sunrise breath hangs smoking
frozen silhouettes reflect in water
like Japanese painting strokes

our sunrise breath hangs smoking
shrill crane’s ancient honking
like Japanese painting strokes
karoo karoo greets a newborn day

crane’s ancient honking in minor key
night-frost crystals encrust
karoo karoo greets a newborn day
gangly stiff knees bend backwards

night-frost crystals encrust
like mine of a sometime morning
cold stiff knees bend backwards
legs slender as lakeside sedges

sometimes like mine of a morning
limbs barely support feather bustle
legs slender as lakeside sedges
red-capped cranes mate for life

limbs barely support feather bustle
daily quest for winter’s food
red-capped cranes mate for life
coyote lurks behind tamarisk

daily quest for winter’s food
undulating necklace pink at dawn
coyote lurks behind tamarisk
wingbeats whistle, necks extend

crane-necklace undulates, pink at dawn
silhouettes overhead reflect in water
wingbeats…

View original post 16 more words

Pantoum by Mary Sherman

A Great Intimacy

New bird songs, un-named, sing to me.
The wooden windmill spins a reply.
Emerging tulips’ imminent growth.
Grief shows itself in the bones.

The wooden windmill spins a reply.
Adobe colored dirt lines the undercarriage.
Grief shows itself in the bones.
Buddha smiles with grace in hand.

Adobe colored dirt lines the undercarriage.
The roar of the silence is questionable.
Buddha smiles with grace in hand.
Over completed fullness in the round.

The roar of the silence is questionable.
He demanded, “Bring me the fan of the rhinoceros.”
Over completed fullness in the round.
First there are two cushions and now there is a chair.

He demanded, “Bring me the fan of the rhinoceros.
Embody the touch of an unknown assailant.
First there are two cushions and now there is a chair.
You assuage the hunger of the pleading wolf.

Embody the touch of an unknown assailant.
You cup your hand to my left cheek.
You assuage the hunger of the pleading wolf.
Long dead, where is the forgiveness?

You cup your hand to my left cheek.
Intimacy is unbearably brilliant.
Long dead, where is the forgiveness?
They say the scent of roses means Mary is near.

Intimacy is unbearably brilliant.
First apricot buds blooming today.
They say the scent of roses means Mary is near.
I was raised to believe I was a saint.

First apricot buds blooming today.
I carry history on my left side.
I was raised to believe I was a saint.
I wish I knew their names.

I carry history on my left side.
She said, “I am not your teacher, only your preceptor.”
I wish I knew their names.
Shivaratri delivers merit one thousand times.

She said, “I am not your teacher, I am your preceptor.”
The blue in your eyes makes my heart break.
Shivaratri delivers merit one thousand times.
There is no evidence of living in India.

The blue in your eyes makes my heart break.
New birdsongs, un-named, sing to me.
There is no evidence of living in India.
Emerging tulips’ imminent growth.

 

 

Writer’s Block: Pantoum by Rich Smith

Writer’s Block

by Rich Smith

I visit new pages every night
Astonishing emotions flash my mind
Moments of forgotten intimacy
When pen’s not married to paper

Astonishing emotions flash my mind
Disappearing in morn’s light
When pen’s not married to paper
The divorce condemns me

Disappearing in morn’s light
The fates turn their heads
The divorce condemns me
Words comply with the ruling

The fates turn their heads
My tapestry portends little
Words comply with the ruling
I struggle in my cell

My tapestry portends little
I’m starving without words
I struggle in my cell
My wick trimmed too short

I’m starving without words
Can used paper apportion a meal
My wick trimmed too short
To read words on my walls

Can used paper apportion a meal
Or defraud; an empty menu
Vaporous meals, my words cold
Sumptuous banquets in my dreams

Pages fill when I sleep
Narratives of covert emotions
Moments of forgotten intimacy
When pen’s not married to paper

Good Friday in Chimayo: A Pantoum by Cheryl Marita

Good Friday in Chimayo
Cheryl Marita
 
Carved crosses heavy on shoulders
Jackets layered against the cold
Lips murmur, plead in prayer for
Kids, cousins high on heroin
 
Jackets layered against the cold
Worn by pilgrims in moonlight
Kids, cousins high on heroin
Walk in hope for miracle cure.
 
Worn thin by pilgrims in moonlight
Rubber flip flops cut like Jesus’ sandals
Walk in hope for miraculous cure
Feet climb the miles to the Santuario
 
Rubber flip flops cut like Jesus’ sandals
Feet bleed, joints ache in damp night air
Feet climb long miles to the Santuario
Bargains made, false promises to God
 
Feet bleed, joints smoked in damp night air
Oh, hearts, why do you open to Satan?
Bargains made, God forgives false promises
Church holds dirt of redemption 
 
Hearts, open to love, not Satan
Blessed Dirt soft layer on hands, lips, skin
Church holds hope of redemption
Dear God, give us weapons to fight our demons
 
Blessed dirt on hands, lips, skin
Lips murmur, pleading prayer
Dear God, give us weapons to fight our demons
Carved crosses light on shoulders
 
 
 Cheryl Marita works and lives in the Espanola Valley and enjoys writing about the culture of Northern New Mexico.