PROMISE ME

Don't -
unless I can feel,
in every way as you do
the thrill and heat -
take me with you.

Don't -
unless you can give
your absolute, your all
and something more -
take me with you.

Don't -
unless we can share
the passion of our living,
the press and sigh and song -
take me with you.

Copyright (c) 2008

FIAF #31 (A Naughty Version)

TAKEN

He pushed up, hard, hungry thrusts of his hips.  She could barely breathe, could only feel his thighs tremble, his arms helping to raise and lower her.  He moved faster, a kind of desperate, ravenous surging of flesh into flesh, his grunts the harmonic accompaniment to her whimpers of delight as she clung, hungry, mindless.

Pete's Pick #24 ~ "Indestructible"

CRUCIBLE

My heart is gold.
Like molten lava, it rolls
with the passions of my ages.

Searing through the anguish
of an oft-broken heart;
burning through the sorrow
of a much-trampled soul;
scorching through the wounding
of a violated spirit.

My heart is gold.
Like hammered metal, it shines
with the brilliance of my strength.

Copyright © 2010 by Teri K D Bannerman

To read others, go here---->PETE'S PICKS....WEEK # 24....

Pete's Pick #22 ~"Improvise"

EX TEMPORE

What to do when love
bursts in upon you, raging
like a Spring torrent.

Serendipity
has no tested words to say
what swells in the heart.

Copyright © 2010 by Teri K D Bannerman

To see others, go here--->Pete's pick...#21...........

Mystery

Last night this poem - actually it's a song - came to my mind, a song I learned as a child, and I've been Googling it for a bit this morning, but have been unable to find it.  These are the words (the accompanying music is played on piano, and it sounds classical to my untrained ears, but of course I don't know the composer of title of the piece).

When the spring bedecks the trees with green,
Lovely green, verdant green,
And the birds trill out their warbling notes
To a world awake from winter's dream,
Then all Nature seems to sing a song,
Lovely song, joyous song,
Of our Maker, thoughtful, kind, and good,
Who has loved us all through ages long.

Oh hearken!  Hearken once again
For the tiny, rippling rivulet
Joins their song in the glen!
And it sings, hastening to the sea:
"Oh, I'm happy lilting on my way
As I cheer Nature here!"

You see?  I remember it well, and can even sing it for you, but Google doesn't seem to recognize it!  Could my teacher have written it?  And if so, which teacher?  I hope you can help me!

SILLY(?) POEM

LOVERS' QUARREL

"Fine!" she said, and slammed the door.
"Fine!" he hollered after her.

"I do not encourage him!
He's so wrong!  How could he think
That I'd do that, that I'd sink
So damn low, to flirt with Tim?"

"She thinks she can fool me, but
I know how men think, and he's
Doing what I'm sure would please
All the others.  I'm no nut!"

"We fight like two married people!"
"Gee!  I love that sweet lil dimple!"

"Honey, please, I'm very sorry!
Do you love me still, my dearest?"
"Yes I do, my love, I swear it!
Even though you make me worry!"

"I can't wait to hold you, baby!"
"Me too, honey, no but or maybe!"

Copyright © 2009 by Teri K D Bannerman

Found Poem ~ From THE THINGS THEY CARRIED

A creative activity in which I involved my junior class before the break required them to use details they took from a passage they respond to in the novel THE THINGS THEY CARRIED by Tim O'Brien.  I usually model creative tasks for my students, and I'm sharing my process here with you, as I did with them.

Before we wrote, I took the back to the six war poems we had studied to begin the unit, and we reviewed the "poetic devices" each poet used.  They were tasked with imitating one of the poems in every way they could.   The exercise required them to note down words, phrases, or clauses that were particularly moving to them.  Below is the list of words, etc. which I noted from the chapter called "Enemies".

"One morning in late July
They got into a fistfight.
The fight was vicious.
Went back and forth,
Wrapped an arm around his neck
Pinned him down
He hit him hard
He didn’t stop
His nose made a sharp snapping sound
Like a firecracker
Quick stiff punches"

Following the note taking, we reviewed the words, phrases, and clauses we had chosen, and pulled from them those we would use in our poems.  Students chose the poem they wished to imitate, and set about writing their own poem.  When they were done, they had to give the poem a title.  I chose to imitate Randall Jarrell's "The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner", and I titled it "Enemies", after the title of the chapter.  Here is the result.

ENEMIES

Two men on our side, one morning in late July,
Got into a vicious fistfight.  It went back and forth,
With quick, stiff punches, as one pinned the other,
Wrapped his arm around his neck, and hit him hard.
He didn’t stop.  The other’s nose snapped, like a firecracker.

Copyright © 2009 by Teri K D Bannerman

Randall Jarrell's poem is here, with the note he included after it.

The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner

From my mother's sleep I fell into the State,
And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze.
Six miles from earth, loosed from its dream of life,
I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.
When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose.

"A ball turret was a Plexiglas sphere set into the belly of a B-17 or B-24, and inhabited by two .50 caliber machine-guns and one man, a short small man. When this gunner tracked with his machine guns a fighter attacking his bomber from below, he revolved with the turret; hunched upside-down in his little sphere, he looked like the foetus in the womb. The fighters which attacked him were armed with cannon firing explosive shells. The hose was a steam hose." -- Jarrell's note.