The Freedom of Poetry

"Take Me Up"  by Lauren Withrow

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 89

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“I grew up in this town, my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the rain, and like the timber, it steeped itself in the forests.”  ~ Pablo Neruda

You are the true poetry that my heart harbors yet shall also set free

All the love you did not give

Is every seed that planted my lovely garden

Every sad word that slipped through your lips

Like a long kiss goodbye

Became the song I did not sing

Instead I learned to listen

Not to the melancholy of wind instruments

Nor to promises that die where they lay

But to the sound of wings in flight

the uplifting sound of freedom

was the voice of reason that carried me forward

where there was loss and flowers never planted

I carried something more

A hope that can see the horizon’s true beauty

To raise my voice high

Like a flying flag

The freedom of poetry

For you

For me

For everyone.

Do Not Pass the Potatoes

Lion Afternoon by Jacek Yerka

Joining with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 69

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We swallow greedily any lie that flatters us, but we sip only little by little at a truth we find bitter. ~Denis Diderot

What we bring to the table is as different as lima beans and prime rib

But no matter the pot luck meal at hand

It serves a greater purpose

Than filling a belly

There is fellowship

Diversity

And food for the soul

Sometimes dinner time

Is the only time of gathering of a family

But at our dinner growing up

Diversity of fellowship and soul food

Were malnourished like all the starving children

My mother frequently spoke of

Yet there was much more than an elephant in the room

There was a lion under the table

So we did not kick our feet

If we wanted to keep all your limbs

Just ask to pass the potatoes

Do not ask why grandpa is dipping

In his old secret sauce again

Sometimes silence is golden

And others it is the roar

That haunts us for years to come.