{poetry}

poetry leaf image

 

for wcw

ospreyso much depends
upon
a red brick
building
and a vigilant
osprey
beside the so-blue
bay. . . . . . . .

                                          yvonne melania lieblein | 20 June 2015

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While I write this poem. .

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I wrote this lyrical mash-up to celebrate three birthdays —

Tom Waits {12-7}, Gregg Allman {12-8} & Sinéad  O’Connor {12-8}.

statesboro

Though I held in my hand, the key to all joy,

Honey, my heart was not born to be tamed.

I got that old lonesome feelin’ that’s sometimes called the blues . . .  

I go out every night and sleep all day.

Go step yourself outside and look up at the stars above.  

There’s millions of people to offer advice and say how I should be . . .  

I’m goin’ to the country, baby do you wanna go?  

I’m dancing the seven veils,

want you to pick up my scarf.  

All the other stars seem dim around you,

and I think that I just fell in love with you.

                                                       yvonne melania lieblein | 12-07-12

Experience the annotated songscape (photos + music) here.
Click PLAY to hear me read the poem:

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eventide

Late afternoon. Early evening. Dusk.

I’ve learned words don’t make it any easier

to figure out where one thing ends

and another begins

like our conversation as

candlelight takes the edge off the day

or maybe that softening is

the wine we share in the blue hour.

I tell you Alan Alda said,

“Science and art are two long-lost lovers,

yearning to be reunited,”

and that I believe winemakers are matchmakers –

artists who ricochet between physics, geology, biology and chemistry,

poets wielding enzymes and substrates, soil and stars.

You tell me an unknown poet said,

“The whole universe is in a glass of wine,”

and I’ve tasted that vastness between the notes –

pencil lead, cola and cedar,

beach stones, honeysuckle and toast.

I’ve felt the quickening

on that first day

winter decides to surrender.

                                                           yvonne melania lieblein

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mackerel

mackerel sky

No mackerel sky

as my front disintegrates

the blues win today.

                                         a haiku by yvonne melania lieblein | o8-13-2o13

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shel

The_giving_tree_img1

You made me the other woman before I was born.

The boy carved my initials above M.E. and T.,

and I became the one who lured him away

from raucous swinging and naps in her shade.

 

Soon other distractions

made it difficult for him to remember

the way light filtered through her leaves

or how sometimes not talking

is the best way to say everything.

Of course, you had the boy find his way back to her

after the apples and the branches and that solid canoe.

By then, he was worn out from

trying to fill the cavernous space

he refused to name but couldn’t ignore.

I knew someday

you’d make him long for sturdy and true . . .

return him to her before he ran out of wonder,

exhausted from chasing after the boy he used to be.

                                                                         yvonne melania lieblein

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oh fig

fig

Oh, fig

I’m bare, too,

limbs tired

from another season

of holding up

and holding on.

Even as this

lonely Sunday  crescendos

flap

faded flannel

flap,

I remember those

 colors inside us,

the bruise and

blush of summer.

The seeds we carried

still hum with hope

beneath  these November blues.

                                        yvonne melania lieblein

                 Click here to hear me read this poem.

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instapoems logo

car wash 

 I started writing this poem as soon as I paid & rolled the window up, and had to be done by the time the Jeep was toweled off.

car wash

these days

I’m in neutral with

my windows up 

so all I have to do is

glide into the wonder world of

sudsy slaps and neon spray

where I scream out

a wish with each swish

a single word

a simple prayer

. . . shift.

                                                     yvonne melania lieblein | 17 July 2015

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november fog | 11 – 21-14foggy fifth street instapoem

A poem followed me

to the fog-shrouded bay

coaxing me to look inside

when I wanted to look away.

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afterglow | 11-19-2014

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I sit here with this poem

still warm on the page

autumn morning peeks through the curtains

staining the couch with light.

I sit here with this poem

still hot in my head

knowing these embers won’t linger

and will soon fade out of sight.

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pinspired logo

Pin-spired poetry celebrates National Poetry Month

with poems sparked by random Pinterest images.

Experience my entire board here. 

2014 was a haiku year — 5-7-5, baby. Click the dates to see the pins.

4-30-14

4-30

{haiku} ||  It won’t always be/ flashing neon you have to/ keep it within

 4-29-30

4-29

{haiku} || Do you ever feel/ stuck in the muck of the past?/ Breathe. Let go. Move on.

4-28-14

4-28

{haiku} || The color red, yes / I’ve seen it before but now/ I can feel its fire.

4-27-14

4-27

{haiku} ||  His dream never changed/ always paddling and gasping / above messy sheets.

4-26-14

4-26

{haiku} || if you dare to float/ to be an island alone / the world comes to you.

4-25-14

4-25

{haiku} || I’ve devoured books, yes/ and you, too, in this very/ seat by the window.

4-24-14

4-24 nap

{haiku} || I have been dreaming/ of this nap since I woke up/ escape into dreams.

4-23-14

4-23

{haiku} || Feel the moon move you? / Your life ebbing and flowing / awakening dreams?

4-22-14

4-22

{haiku} || those were black and white/ days when music mattered more/ than anything else.

[BLONDIE | NYC | 1977]

4-21-14

4-21

{haiku} || I’m not afraid of/ heights or spinning. It’s more a/ fear of letting go. [Jardin de Tuileries, Paris]

4-20-14

4-20

haiku || Watching this sailboat/ is all we can do on this/ shimmering blue day.

4-18-14

4-18

{haiku} || got the blues today/ sadness seeped through the back screen/ and spring is tardy. {art: Many Shades of Blue by John Bucklin}

4-16-14

4-16

haiku || Miss hanging around/ dangling over sparkling blue / just me and just you.

4-15-14

4-15

{haiku} || Let’s bask in the glow/ each star a reminder of the/ light we leave behind.

 4-14-14

4-14

{haiku} || You haven’t quit yet/ wisps of smoke curl around you/ as the day winds down.

 4-13-14

4-13

{haiku} || I can’t forget her / brazen blue gaze and freckles/ of shadow and light.

4-12-14

4-12

{haiku} || When he asked me it/ wasn’t his face or his voice / no, it was that hat. {Renoir}

April 11, 2014

SONY DSC

haiku|| There are words begging / to be heard. Succulent sounds/ yearning for a voice.

April 10, 2014

4-10

{haiku} || This is the moment/ we see dreams take flight and know/ its all possible.

April 9, 2014

4-9

{haiku} ||  I’ve had days like this / black, white and red all over/ order in chaos.

April 8, 2014

4-8

{haiku} || There is that moment / I forget winter’s harshness / and miss her soft snow.

April 7, 2014

4-7

{haiku} || time to gather ’round / so the flames can spark stories / to light up the night.

April 6, 2014

4-6

{haiku} || sometimes a poem/ waits for you to open up/ and find it outside.

April 5, 2014

4-5

{haiku} || Now I’ve forgotten/ our destination. Your hand./ This poem. I’m here.

April 4, 2014

4-4

{haiku} || pale, tissue petals / delicate reminders of/ beauty all around

April 3, 2014

4-3

{haiku} ||  it’s been a long day/ waning light, weary me. ah, / you left the light on.

April 2, 2014

4-2

musings || She showed up yesterday/no traffic on the runway/ideas appearing & colliding like bumper cars/

elephant in a bathtub/witch’s cauldron/tumbling beach umbrella.//

But today/I’m going nowhere fast./It’s all/heavy cargo/mechanical issues, weather delays.//

Stay buckled./It’s the only way I’ll take flight/but it’s never easy in the middle/

trapped between distraction in the window seat/& doubt on the aisle./

Stay buckled./Pillow?/ Preflight cocktail?/Yes, yes./Time to surrender/into the takeoff.

April 1, 2014

04-01

{haiku} || what would happen if / you trusted light to push you / toward wild, waiting dreams?

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