A Way of Expressing A Bad Night, Had and a New Day

Tossing and turning and thinking and viewing
Chest clenched
First roiling and next fidgeting feet
Still–to solid
Heavy weight
Soft suggestion
Sleep
and quiet
Before
eyes open
yet again
to sigh
then start
to feel the quality of the light
and the clock pronouncing
the tomb-time
earliness
resistant to my noticing
a spark of joy
in earlier days
and later nights
out of the tomb
to feel earth
spin round
into Sun

–elisabeth connelley

6:16 a.m. November 16 (What is Elisa Doing Today)

breathing treatment and Chinese Breakfast Tea just
after 5:30 am or is it 6:30 am and strangely dark 33
degrees in the middle of November what do I expect
still looking for Summer 80s breeze resentful laughing
at myself noting the still green grass

cranberry stained glass leaves gone to crumple in the
20 degree freeze of yestermorn now holding stock still
valiant and full of spread smooth strength and obstinance
to cling and to quiver shiver in the dark
maybe not a shiver–a wave hello fellow living thing to
fellow living thing awake in the dark

the kitchen has basil now and lemons bright yellow
lemons in a blue and white designed bowl special
scalloped edges cinnamon scent spirals up into my
nose pearls of tea bumps between my thumb and
finger squeezing free every exquisite and e-wordless
drop into the favored cup between my lips heaven
passes and sighs

–elisabeth connelley

Trapped or Protected

enclosed in your fist
i was safe
what if
i feel abused
and then you sigh
and you carefully open a space between two fingers
and i peer out
and i see
that I am being
held
up
close
in the light
of the sun
there is no ground beneath me
there is no where to run
there is not yet
any safe space
to be put down
–elisabeth connelley

I forgot somehow to run and to play around and around, up and then down laughing at you watching me as the flame rises and I float off in union. Maybe I can remember how. Please forgive me. I cannot forgive myself. At least…not yet.

My Living Room–Purple Profundity Poetry

My living room
has a woman
crouched and old
a bit twisted and a tad bent
murmurs
whispers
wisdom
or vent?

She rocks
she works her hands
the motion stops
abrupt
thrust forward
glimpse of smoothing face
joyful expression
noticing

a little girl
perched upon her toes
beside the arm of the couch
peeking out
giggling
brightly
watching bubbles float up
reflecting
my living room

has a young woman
in a sweater
and a handmade quilted skirt
sitting on the couch
reading
as if to herself
sidelong and knowing glances
at the old woman
tilting her head to listen
to the story
read
just for the little girl
wide eyed and joyful
perching on the floor
of
My living room.

–elisabeth connelley

The Sky

The Sky
it was pomegranate.

A dark
night
sky

Not fading and deepening blues–
But
Pomegranate.

Focused upon focusing.
Something grand to attend.
The Sky
it was pomegranate.

Such a slight thing
without evident meaning
or intent

Can’t there be anything else?

No.
It was pomegranate.

–by elisabeth connelley

Oh wait, this, I thought, was a blog, but now I think it was a poem. I tried asking it, but so far, it has not answered and I’d rather stay with the pomegranate.

One Shoot Sunday and The Play–Purple Profundity: Poetry by Elisabeth Connelley

Sunday Photography Interview: Rosie Hardy & Poetry Challenge

“The time has come, one and all, for that saddest of days— it is my regret to once more say to you all that this is the final One Shoot Sunday. We have such a treat for you on the auspicious day, though, for it’s my pleasure to give to you the marvelous Rosie Hardy. Hardy has an amazing talent for people—from weddings, to children, to model events; but many of you music fans might recognize her work as well. Then 19-year-old Hardy provided the cover shot for Maroon 5′s album, Hands All Over (she also happened to be the model featured in the shot). She’s also done work for Samsung and Penguin Book Publishers, among many others. This young star of the photographic world was kind enough to take the time to interview with One Stop Poetry, and it’s my pleasure to offer her work and her words for our last feature here.

~Chris Galford”

 

Final Picture Prompt Challenge!

Photography by Rosie Hardy used from One Shoot Picture Prompt Poetry Challenge

 

The Play

Why are you there?

Living in my mind’s eye?

Your touch is Heaven and Hell at the same moment

Your voice is the whisper of Death.

I am a puppet wanting a heart.

You are the puppeteer.

You make me dance.

I believe I am free.

Then the play is over and you put me in my box.

Cold and empty and dead.

–by Elisabeth Connelley