Enough of an Artist... Thank you, Albert Einstein

When I was participating in the Poetry Bus poetry workshops, one of the members asked us to follow these directives: 

1: Think of (or find) a sentence. 

2: Delete the second half of it. 

3: Think of as many different ways of finishing it was you can. 

4: Now, delete the first part of the sentence, leaving only a collection of "second halves". 

5: Play with these and compose a poem out of them. You'll probably want to mess about with the grammar, leave bits out, put bits in, etc. Feel free. 

6: Post the poem.

I used a quote from Albert Einstein, and below is the result.

Photo of my window's view in Reims, France

I am enough of an artist to draw freely upon my imagination. ~ Albert Einstein

I am Enough of an Artist...

To make my way through this airport

and appreciate the artistry

in each human utterance and smile

creative impulses within,

felt without

To hear music

in the laughter of children,

the voice of God,

in the knowing timbre

of an elderly sigh

To feel this train race, passing French villes,

A phantasmagoria of anxious yearning

in the muted colors of graffiti 

blended with determined drops 

of spring rain

To enter a darkened hallway,

and know that the painful hole

bitten into my lip from fear

will heal, 

bleeding into fortitude

So, I taste the blended harvest

in a bowl of vegetable soup

and ready myself for another day

with cherished goodness

of a night’s rest

upon clean, white sheets.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

Common Thread, Shared Bread

Photo from DuckDuckGo Images

Common Thread, Shared Bread

Friendship bound by a common thread

nourished with inspirational Bread

of kindness, humor, and stories we share.
How lovely! Someone actually does care! 
These are the blessings we unfold
honoring love as our version of gold,
refraining from giving annoyance reign
for a wintry soul has warmth to gain.
 Lifting hearts with a benevolent thread,
we stitch the tattered as we share the Bread.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

To hear me recite this verse, please click HERE. 

My Hands, a poem

 "And let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us: and establish thou the work of our hands upon us; yea, the work of our hands establish thou it." (Psalm 90:17)

Below is a poem with the theme of my use of hands, 

which some may think is archaic in this current era of technology:

Harp and me, one afternoon

My Hands

Turning 

weathered pages of a centuries old book,

my fingers touch a piece of history,

for this page was once turned by the fingertips

of a lady sitting by candlelight on a blue velvet chair,

her linen dress, flowing around covered ankles.

Strumming 

the strings of a vibrating harp, melodic echoes, soothe

the mind of my precious dog who lives to protect me

love me, comfort me. It's the least I can do for her.

Kneading 

dough that clings to each finger until I apply 

one more dash of flour to create 

the soft ball that will miraculously rise

to form into the sweet, aromatic sustenance of life: 

bread, feeding others with joy.

Threading 

a needle with just the right length and color 

of waxed cotton,

slowly I turn remnant pieces of cloth

into a quilted memory to comfort 

through the warmth of artistry and pragmatism.

Digging 

into rich, brown soil, I plant a seed

water, nurture, protect until one day it grows

into a savory food, the source of a satisfied smile.

Holding 

an extended hand, I feel the presence

of tender strength, our fingertips, touching,

Loving 

 brushing the tear from a dear one's eye

fond memory of the gentleness.
Praying
palm against palm, I sing a song of praise.
Humbly, I give thanks to Him,
Knowing 

His Love is undying, strengthening, 

guiding each step to fulfillment of 

His Purpose for me:

Living 

from heart to hand.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

(To hear my reading of this poem on Pod-omatic, click HERE.)

Dusk

Below, I have written a poem based on a photograph, as an example of Ekphrasis.

My photograph is of the beautiful East Lake in Danbury, Connecticut, at sunset, just before dusk. This lake has a very similar appearance to Walden Pond in Massachusetts. I took this photograph when the lake was full. 

East Lake, Danbury, Connecticut.

Dusk

Indigo pond

reflects

a hopeful, graying sky

shades of peach and blue

intermingle 

with soft, fleecy clouds

framing the Peace and Love

that harken my heart 

dreaming

 of possibilities...

Dusk.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

To hear me recite this verse, please click HERE. 

Frontal Acumen

photo taken by me in Danbury, Connecticut, U.S.A.

In a recent year, we had an extraordinary weather pattern here in Connecticut. As a front rapidly moved through the area, the skies filled with color, then torrential downpours, then sun and warm temperatures. Then, we were back in the freezing zone with snow predicted. As Mark Twain commented once, "if you don't like the weather in New England, just wait a few minutes." Okay, that's the weather report. What does this all mean philosophically?  

Human consciousness continually evolves, and as we move through our daily activities, nuances affect us in ways that sometimes we don't even realize until other events bring these subtle revelations into focus, providing clarity and introspection.

Frontal Acumen

Such grandeur surges

in a moment of wonder: 

guiding, hoping, gusting, 

winds envelop 

swirling reality 

shaking dreams loose,  

sparking an idea 

with divine Authority. 

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

The Mill

Long ago, a friend told me about this beautiful mill, located in Floyd County, Virginia. I found a picture of it in a history book and saw the serene beauty of this sight, so I took out my oil paints and painted my own version of the mill: Mabry Mill is its name. Below are two photos. One is a photo from Google Images. The other is my painting of the lovely Mabry Mill in Floyd County, Virginia. The poem revolves around this stalwart mill.

The 'melodious Lark' in the poem refers to Ralph Vaughn Williams' masterpiece, The Lark Ascending. You can hear the lovely melody if you click HERE. 

Photo of Mabry Mill, Virginia

 from Google Images

 

My painting of Mabry Mill, Virginia

                                             

The Mill

Quietly and peaceful

 The Mill does stand

In harmony with God's land,

and in its tranquil solitude

the melodious Lark 

sings its sweet etude. 

All the while, 

the Mill in steady repose sings: 

"I'll be here

as long as the wind does carry

His song through the realms of time. 

I'll be here for you ~ 

My love will ne'er weary

for your spirit 

inspires

my Joy. 

© Jeanne I. Lakatos

(To hear my reading of this poem on Pod-omatic, click HERE.)

Acts of Love

 

The Great Smoky Mountains, North Carolina 

(photo from DuckDuckGo Images)

This poem stems from a prayer I learned as a young child: 

The Act of Love: O my God, I love thee above all things, with my whole heart and soul, because thou art all good and worthy of all my love. I love my neighbor as myself for the love of thee. I forgive all who have injured me and I ask pardon of all whom I have injured. Through Christ our Lord, Amen.

Acts of Love

Someone over there
might reach out to me,

might need my comfort, 

my trust, my love. 

The Lord will provide 
Blessed moments to enfold 

a Joy fulfilled

 with the one over there. 

First, I will pray,

then gently step forward,  

lifting the heart 

of the one over there. 

I accept all that God provides,

 share what the Son confides
do what the Spirit guides:

righteous Acts of Love.

© Jeanne I. Lakatos