Poetry Corner: When your Cup is Spilling Over

POETRY CORNER

– 6/27/18

Hosted by Kathabela Wilson

Many of us feel overwhelmed these days, and so this sense of being a container that’s overflowing is one that I think we can all identify in our lives right now. These poems touch the depths of that feeling. Life is an overflowing cup, not just a full one, where we resort to strong metaphor, passionate repetition, and an extraordinary sensitivity to express our feelings. I asked Roary Williams, our first poet, about how his poem came to him? Read on the origins of his powerful simple statement “the horse in my heart” in the final section of our Poetry Corner.​

~ Kathabela​​​

Roary Williams

you are the
horse in my heart
that lies down
on the cool earth
on a hot summer day

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Tess Tjibbe

bliss of a pedestrian:
after a long walk,
I almost nod and then
I move by my wings,
leaving my feet on the bench

Ο Ο Ο​

Susan Delphine Delaney

​I watch
in fascination
as the dawn wind
spills fog
over the fence top

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Scott Abeles

you ask
as though it’s
some kind of mystery:
what color is paradise?
pink pink pink pink pink pink pink

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Mike Duffy

no one looking–
i catch wisteria petals
with my tongue

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Gerry Jacobson

this body-mind
really knows what to do
knows when to rest
and when to sink
deep into the floor

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​Judith Pascoe​

like ice
brittle psycic walls
crack
and melt​
in the sun’d warmth

ΟΟΟ

Karla Decker

crazy blooms
basket too small
for all these flowers

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Roary Williams lives near the edge of the Isleta reservation in Meadow Lake, New Mexico. Musing on the origins of his poem, he says: “The two-lane that goes to my house is on the edge of a vast expanse of land, desert scrub. On that land are a herd of wild horses, about 30 of them. They stick together mostly, and wander the reservation, but mostly stay by the water pumped by a windmill. Every time I travel that two-lane I look for them. Sometimes they’re set back, sometimes right by the road, and sometimes they are just gone. I always notice whether I can see them or not. There are a couple of beautiful paints in the heard, which are my favorites…The day I wrote that poem the herd was close to the two-lane. It was the afternoon and it was hot, high 90s. While the herd stood and grazed, one of the paints was lying in the dirt trying to cool herself off. It filled me with peace and comfort. I’m going through a trying time right now, and these horses always fill me with awe, with peace. I don’t know why, but they do.”

Tess Tjibbe was a pedestrian but her winged words have left only her shoes.

Susan Delphine Delaney, in Plano, Texas, explains how her year spilled over, right from the start: “I wrote this one memorable New Year’s morning filled with tanka moments.”

Scott Abeles says: “Apropos of the topic and the Grateful Dead (Too much of everything is just enough) comes this long lost poem, featuring one of my more unique L-5’s. Follow your bliss.” ​He l​ives in DC area​.

Judith Pascoe lives in Tamborine, Queensland, Australia. She says: “Even the thickest defensive walls can be dissolved by love’s warmth and kindness.”

Mike Duffy is a poetic and artistisadventurer. He lives in Seattle, spends time in Canada, has been traveling all day to Iceland, and he’s going to the Arctic Circle to photograph puffins.

Poet and dancer Gerry Jacobson​ lives in Canberra, Australia. His sense of sinking deep into the floor comes from knowing the essence of dance, I think.

Karla Decker lives in Lincoln, Nebraska. Her basket overflows with flowers.​

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♣ Please add your thoughts or your own new poem to our comment box below as your contribution to our Poetry Corner​.