"Of a Tail Feather"

Image shared at Magpie Tales #311

Of a Tail Feather

A tail feather once slid
beneath fervored brow bent low
above ivory black,

love seductive, passion wet
upon parchment held and delivered
between strong hands.

Sun and time
have turned iron ink brown;
words whisper softly now

of an urgency not flashy.
No need to peacock love
as ornamentals are temporary,

worn upon a hat
or in the hair.  His words
were a songbird's, meant to surround

and help me fly.

by Margaret Bednar, April 6, 2016.

This is linked with "Magpie Tales: Mag 311"  

"The Inkwell"

The Inkwell

I'm nostalgic for french script, cursive,
calligraphy

for the slanted glide of feathered quill
clean and crisp upon parchment

for considered thoughts.

Yet there it sits, curvaceous;
merely ornamental upon my desk

a testament of bygone days
when words were cherished

now more often than not

replaced with quickly clicking keys
and perfectly spaced words.

by Margaret Bednar, September 27, 2015


This is for Magpie Tales 287.  It's been a while since I have played, but this challenge was instrumental to my creativity when I first started writing poetry!  It's nice to participate again.  Please do your self a favor and visit the other poets.

Grammar police:  sets or sits?  :)  

Someone commented my blog's "verification" is giving them trouble.  I checked my status and I have it turned off - there should be NO verification code to type in.  Please let me know if this is showing up if you post a comment.  Thanks.  

"Seasonal"

Seasonal

"The leaves fall, the wind blows, and the farm country slowly changes
from the summer cottons into its winter wools."  Henry Beston

Leaves have yet to fall,
yet to flush golden, crimson, fire.
Horses yet to shed summer coats,
stand nose to tail beneath heavily laden trees.

Rose-purple blazing stars, rioting asters
drape field and valley.
Bees absorb Autumn's sun
as storm clouds gather.

Cattle tagged and fattened;
idyllic days slumbering - numbered,
as are canopies of olive, lime, and jade.

A flip of the calendar page or season's first frost.
Security and fate change as quickly as that.

by Margaret Bednar, September, 29, 2014

This is linked with "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Open Link Monday"

and Magpie Tales #239 where the image prompt is below.  I pondered the "security" offered beneath grand old trees and the change from summer to fall …

Autumn in Madeira by Jacek Yerka used with Magpie Tales #239

"Irresistible"

Image used for Magpie Tales #236

"Irresistible"

In the heat of the night
I swoon, become a moth,
abandon indiscretion -

flutter towards the icebox,
press Ben & Jerry to my breast
and indulge.

by Margaret Bednar, September 7, 2014

This is for Magpie Tales #236.

"Opening Night"

New York at Night - Vivienne Gucwa

Opening Night

South of Midtown
weathered pavers slow my step,
street lamps shroud my shoulders

as I of scripts long since shelved,
resurrect, reminisce; recall mentors' advice,
Mother's biased praise, Father's proud gaze.

Embrace tonight's afterglow
as a new beginning to be handled with care -
the applause, excitement, standing ovation.

Hopefully remain convinced critic's reviews
won't matter.

by Margaret Bednar, January 9, 2014

This is for The Mag #201 and also will be linked with Friday Flash 55 after 8pm.  My son is in his Jr. year of college as a drama major.  I know he has his heart set on New York…    The poem isn't quite what I wanted it to be - I will probably come back at a later date and flesh it out a bit more… but for now, 55 words is all I have time for.  Go visit both links - the talent is amazing.

Amour

The Ice Cutters, 1911 Natalia Goncharova

Amour

When your name
trembles upon my lips -
spikes a fever within,

I treat it with Hennessy -
an elixir that burns,

numbs my heart frigid
for a night.

Perhaps a second dose
as you rarely stay 'till morn.

An iced heart feels no pain.

Heat and ice -
neither a fine bedfellow make

…yet I'm totally addicted.

by Margaret Bednar, December 19, 2013

This is for "The Mag #198" - a selected weekly featured image to inspire poetry or short prose.  I started out writing something totally different - I think the only word I saved from that first attempt is frigid.  I think we have to say my poem is loosely based on the above image :)

Also linked with "Friday Flash 55"- a story (or poem) in exactly 55 words.

"My Angel"

Image used for Magpie Tales #

My Angel

As a child
I quietly observed
"Do as I say, not as I do" -

made the mistake
of pointing it out
only once.

At twelve, realized angels
live among us, though mom
called her "a disgrace".

My angel taught me
to dream, helped
build my wings.

Leaving her behind
is the only thing
I regret.

by Margaret Bednar, December 3, 2013

This is not an autobiography - it is reminiscent of a friend I once knew who grew up in a family situation far removed from mine.  My friend's sister never "escaped" but truly was a guardian angel.

This is linked with "The Mag #196".  Tess provides the image, we provide the poetry.

This will also linked with "Friday Flash 55".

I'm also linking this with "dVerse - Form for All".

"Appreciation" and "Administrative Assistant"

This first poem is linked with G-Man's "Friday Flash 55" and is another "take" on the poem I wrote below.  I've also linked this first poem with "The Mag #190".

Would you like to hear me read my poem?


Check this out on Chirbit

Appreciation

I never did learn
to play fetch, "wag my tail",

nor view you
with adoring eyes -

always thankful
others enjoyed your pats

upon their pretty behinds -
one you even took home.

Tried to keep the gleam
out of my eyes

when her "foxy" bite
finally made you sing soprano -

made you appreciate
my bull-dog gaze.

by Margaret Bednar, October 17, 1013

Photo by Scavengercat8o8.  Used for "The Mag #190"

The Administrative Assistant

'Coffee, hot.  Eight sharp.
Large carafe, whether I'm here
or not.  (inhale)  And babe,
(exhale) ashtray dumped,
wiped clean, 10 & 2

and fetch my dry-cleaning
mid-week at noon." (grinds stub -
half smiles), "Be sure
to take five for lunch.

Oh, 'bout the cute
transcriptionist scheduled
today from 3:00 - 4:00 -
(winks) ... hold all calls."

I smile, turn, roll my eyes,
and meet his in the mirror.

by Margaret Bednar, October 16, 2013

Yeah, this job was very short-lived.  The smoke would roll out of his office, I suggested a smokeless ashtray - he laughed.  This is actually based on two bosses and I rolled them into one "monster".
I did have a few wonderful bosses - they weren't all jerks.

My daughter painted the image above - it's a detail - and I thought the gaze was perfect for the sharing of this memory - I wonder to this day how I kept my expression "neutral".

This is for "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Words Count with Mama Zen" - National Boss's Day & keep it 67 words or less.  

Magpie Tales #185 & IGWRT's Open Link Night "Magnanimity"

a young white boy calculates a tip for a much older black waiter

Magnanimity

We bend and sway
of our own volition;
a timeless battle
between vice and virtue,

our magnanimity
reflective of who we are.

How simple for some,
heroic for others.

Margaret Bednar, September 9, 2013

This is for Magpie Tales #185, a weekly photo prompt with many talented poets and writers.

Also linked with Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Open Link Night & dVerse Open Link Night #113.

Magnanimity is a tongue twister for me - but certainly a word worthy knowing - "Generous in forgiving an insult or injury, free from petty resentfulness.  High-minded, noble.  Proceeding from or revealing generosity or nobility of mind."

The Mag #183 "Temptation"

Temptation

Dangerous curves
ahead,

testosterone blinding,
warning passed over -

life's fleeting choices
devoured...

full speed ahead.

by Margaret Bednar, August 26, 2013

photo by Steven Kelly

I HIGHLY recommend you flip over to Mr. Kelly's Photographic blog - I have highlighted his "In honour of Shetland" post as the scenic beauty took my breath away ... he writes "thought I'd treat you to a collection of some of my works of the idyllic coastline and dramatic rolling interiors that make these islands so gorgeous."  Truly, it makes me yearn to travel and see the world.

The poem is for "The Mag #183"- her featured photo by Steven Kelly.

The Mag #181 "At the Moulin Rouge"

Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec "Chilperic" 1895

At the Moulin Rouge

Pointed shoes, swirling skirt
rouged cheeks, painted smile,
bouncing cleavage,  veiled eyes,
frivolous laugh, rhythmic sway,
slow death...
endless bohemian nights.

by Margaret Bednar, August 11, 2013


This is linked and written for The Mag #181.

When I wrote the above poem, I assumed this was a dancer at the Moulin Rouge before I listened to the video below.  If you care to learn about this Post-Impressionism oil painting, please listen to the video below.  It's meant for kids, but I enjoyed it.




Recently I visited the Art Institute of Chicago and really enjoyed this piece of Toulouse-Lautrec's up close.  An oil painting on vellum (a tambourine):

Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, "At the Circus: The Bareback Rider" 1888

Magpie Tales #180 "The Model"

M.C. Escher "Drawing Hands" 1948

The Model

Eyes of brown
become strokes of blue,
curved lips, hips,
a brushed caress.

Blush no longer,
yet he paints innocence
in field of flowers,

oak studio floor
transformed
as much as I.

Resigned.

He'll never see
beyond his hands,
beyond creation.

by Margaret Bednar, August 8, 2013


This is for Magpie Tales #180  A weekly visual prompt given by Tess Kincaid for our writing enjoyment.  

The Mag #178 "Summer Moon"

Painting by Andrew Wyeth

Summer Moon

A summer moon hangs low tonight,
shimmers full upon mirrored sky,
invites us to do the same.

I take your hand, dive in, float
upon beams of light, splash surprise
from eyes that see me as angelic,
giggle, hellbent on proving you wrong.

by Margaret Bednar, July 21, 2013

This is for "The Mag #178".  

The Mag #175, "Mirage"

Musin Yohan photographer

Mirage

Many an evening
many a horizon
tempts with turquoise tints

of misty waterfalls, teal seas, 
coconut palms, dipping, swaying,
gentle waves beneath gossamer clouds,

shapeshifting above dirt tire tracks, 
weary shoulders, bare feet
toward a mirage, ever trudging.

by Margaret Bednar, July 1, 2013

This is linked with "The Mag #175" and the image is Tess's choice for her weekly challenge.   I invite you to click on the link and enjoy other poetic interpretations.

Also linked with the awesome "Imaginary Garden with Real Toad's Open Link Monday".  

The Mag #173, "Together"

The Promenade, 1918, by Marc Chagall

Together

I'll hold tight the bluebird,
you aim for the sky.

Together,
invincible's within our grasp.

by Margaret Bednar, June 18, 2013

Marc Chagall & his beloved wife, Bella

Marc Chagall and Bella were passionate about one another.  HERE is a little bit about his life, her early death AND Bella's small sketchbook of Yiddish poems she translated into French with Marc Chagall's sketches and paintings.   He continued to use it for 20 years after her death.  The sketchbook was up for auction at Sotheby's in 2011, estimated sale price 600,000 - $900,000.  I wonder what it ended up selling for. 

(Bluebird represents happiness)

This was written for "The Mag #173".

The Mag #171 "transfiguration"

Waking, Walking, Singing, in the Next Dimension?  1979 by Morris Graves

transfiguration

A devotion
repeated, lived

by minutes, days.  Years
accrue.

Haloed perfection
sought,

though seldom gifted,
and then

only if
the burden can be borne.

by Margaret  Bednar, June 4, 2013

This is linked with The Mag #171 offering a different visual each week.  The image above was a difficult one for me.

The Transfiguration is the moment Jesus revealed his divinity to Peter, James, & John.

My title is with a lower case "t", signifying how we are called to accept the divine within us.  Reading the lives of the Saints, I'm always amazed by the crosses they were asked to carry.  I believe we are all called to be saints, to ponder vices/virtues, to better ourselves and the lives of those around us.  I also believe God will never ask more of us than we can give, more than we can bear.

The Mag #169 "Lighthouse Dandelions"

Lighthouse Dandelions by Jamie Wyeth

Lighthouse Dandelions

As dusks' indigo fingers descend,
little lions roar discontent,
lance-shaped leaves no match
for summer sky's churning monsters
billowing, rumbling, raging,
toward wave-washed shore,
scattering mighty warriors
to ferocious winds.

Beneath a lustrous glow
defeat is not acknowledged
but challenged with a pledge
to come back stronger,
greater.  A legion ready to fight
and hold back the night.

by Margaret Bednar, May 23, 2013

This if for The Mag #169.  The artwork above is this week's prompt.  

Magpie Tales #164 "Longing" & IGWRT's Sunday Challenge "The Pedestal"

Spring, 1935 by Kuzma Petrov-Vodin

Longing

She craved acceptance,
longed to be squeezed, pressed

like a good luck charm,
worn but needed.

He placed her on a pedestal,
dared not touch

lest his shortcomings
be revealed.

Happily ever after
forever a dream.

by Margaret Bednar,  April 14, 2013

The image above is the weekly challenge fro The Mag 164. 

The image below is for Imaginary Garden with Real Toad's: Sunday Challenge Joaquin Sorolla, a triolet poem and a continuation of the above theme.

If you are interested in finding out more about this painter, HERE is a brief description from the Art Institute of Chicago Catalogue of Painters (March 12, 1911)  and also linked with IGWRT's Open Link Monday.

Idyll, Javea, 1900 by Joaquin Sorolla

The Pedestal

How like a charm she longed to be,
Accepted, loved, a need timeworn.

A pedestal, placed her did he,
but like a charm she longed to be!
He lived in dread his faults she'd see
And dared not touch for fear she'd scorn.

How like a charm she longed to be,
Accepted, loved, a need timeworn.

by Margaret Bednar, April 15, 2013

The Mag #159 "The Invitation"

The Invitation

Serenity's rhythm
flirts with my toes,

greets me
with bliss-filled arms.

I snapshot, sigh,
steadfastly walk away,

her appealing charm
savored another day.


by Margaret Bednar, March 12, 2013

This is linked with "The Mag #159 "  Click on link for Tess's weekly photo prompt and other poems created for this challenge.

IGWRT's Sunday Mini-Challenge & The Mag #158 "Wilted"

Wilted

I offer joy,

you pick and choose
which petal to stroke,
which to pluck,
pitch upon the breeze
like confetti.

No celebration
as you tiptoe silently
upon darkness,
floorboards protest
as you whisper
of harm, of fright
and prune at will.

Delicate, I await mercy
to slant its veil
of filtered light,
cockcrow your retreat,
my stem bent,
color faded, wilted
but not broken,

not yet.

by Margaret Bednar, March 3, 2013

This poem is written for Imaginary Garden With Real Toad's is highlighting "Woman Scream - International Poetry Festival"   This poem is definitely a "victim" poem, but I 'm sure if you follow the link, you will find many poems of victory and triumph over this horrific violence.

Also, this is Fiction - not written from any experience I have had... but I do know of a few who have endured violence of this sort...

It is also written for The Mag #158 - weekly image HERE.