Each month, write a new collection.
Uncaptured HereMy lungs can breathewetness of this day,inhaling scentsof softened leavesand faint decay.Not warm, this sun.Unfelt, the fly that jumps against my skin, unafraid.The painter’s brushcan disregard crickets insidelandscape’s silenceairborne hawk, loudsudden song-screech.
Love this. I love how the painting affect the real world. Very much like Keats's poem.
Fredrick KennetA morning walkIn rolling hillsCrosses fieldsAnd cottage homes.Neighbors waveChildren tussleCows sidestepMosquitoes buzz.Clouds roll byGeorge’s mountain.A perfect sceneAmerica.But something’s strangeThe air is stillDid curtains partAs you pass?Do secrets hide In bucolic sceneDid gunshot soundDid wife scream?
I found this exercise difficult, but you did it and a story out of it. I especially like the description of the (crime) scene. My favorite is the middle stanza "clouds roll by..." as a transition and set-up for the ending.
Yeah, I totally agree. Make the surreal out of it. We have Pollock coming up and I'm wondering how difficult that will be!
I, AmericaMy hills roll here and therewavy fields of golden seedthe scent of my breeze is cleanwhistling Dixie...or Yankee Doodle DandyMy crown is covered with snowglistening and deeply coldI prepare next year's streamsor perhaps, this year's floodMy forest is wild and freeman and nature in synca place to forage the floraor pit strength against the faunaMy wide open space are invitingfirm and stable groundwhere you can raise a barnor raise your sheepMy eagle watches over mewith a strong and defiant eyewilling to take any riskin order to keep you free
That's a really patriotic poem!
John Frederick Kensett Mount Washingtonblack hillsstorm in the distancequiet valley