Wednesday, May 12

Tag: environment

i know why poems are born, a prose poem

i know why poems are born, a prose poem

i hear the crack of dawn in the dense concrete of this building and
 imagine the wind sculptured glaciers melting before their time,
 the roars and whispers of the oceans protesting while parents tear and children 
hum songs of longing, hearts broken ~
 in citrus layers of sunlight rising, the messages of earth are unbound,
 any soul can hear or sense them, even mine … and now i know, 
i know why poems are born . . . © 2018, Jamie Dedes, All rights reserved (The Poet by Day and The BeZine)

the smell of wood, the scorch of fire

this rough-barked sequoia stump, sitting in majesty in its coastal home, victim of wildfire, burned down to its gnarly roots, its nicks, holes and char, eons of scars, life seemingly cut off, goddess snake alive inside the concentric circles, the smell of wood and scorch of fire, at the verge of our infinity, in its truth ~ pristine rugged pulsing haunted by the geometry of limbs, the calculus of green, the algebraic eloquence of a world within a world  ~ So present. So essential. So primal. it sings to itself in the marrow of our bones - Jamie Dedes WRITING PROMPT In preparation for The BeZine 100,000 Poets (and Friends) for Change Saturday, Sept. 24, 2016 Theme: Environment/Environmental Justice This poem was originally written in 2014 for Wilderness Week. There wer...

THE RETURN OF PRIMORDIAL NIGHT … and a special writing prompt for you

THE RETURN OF PRIMORDIAL NIGHT the ghosts of our parents search vainly  for wildflowers near the beach at Big Sur they were deaf to the threat in thunder, but we were struck by lightning, heaved in the rain and waves and the overflow from the melting ice the computers went down their screens black as the wicked water, in whirling chaos they morphed into drums every fetus turned in the womb, the men went to the mountain tops and the women sheltered in caves the souls of saints and sinners were run through a cosmic wash cycle after the spin dry, a new wisdom but the shades of our parents remain, they’re waiting for us at Big Sur, waiting by the Santa Lucia Mountains - Jamie Dedes (The Poet by Day) My idea of Environmental Justice is consideration for g...