Audio Recording

Calmly Carnivorous ~ with audio

/ Ken Gierke / rivrvlogr / 12 Comments

Calmly Carnivorous

Wings wide, it glides on thermals, a lone sentinel with a mastery of the air that keeps it aloft for hours. The value of thermals and updrafts is not lost on it, as they lift its larger mass and six-foot wingspan with minimal effort on its part, a mere shudder of its wings all that’s necessary to counter any crosscurrent that may cause it to drift from its course in search of prey.

But is it truly prey, when death has already taken hold? It is the source of its sustenance, and that is all that matters. It may be obscured from the air by an overhanging tree, or it may be in plain sight, but that is irrelevant. It is the scent of death, rising on the very thermals that enable such flight, that reaches the hunter, now gliding downward with a shift of its wings, until it lands within reach of its goal.

Joined by brethren, the feast commences, as fur flies and flesh is torn. But this meal does not lie in a field that would offer protection from outside encroachment. The remains are in the center of a highway, scattered by passing vehicles, a partial rending already accomplished. This is where the true challenge begins, a turkey vulture dodging metal monsters, determined not only to feed, but to not meet the fate of its dinner.

 

This is my response to Day Three of National/Global Poetry Writing Month at napowrimo.net, where the prompt is to write a surreal prose poem.

Image source: Wikimedia Commons (turkey vulture in flight)

Affecting Our Content ~ with audio

/ Ken Gierke / rivrvlogr / 26 Comments

 

Affecting Our Content

Childless, but parent
and grandparent to generations,
she gave more than she received.
Spring far in her past,
but full of life to the end,
time spent with her was like
waking to a golden dawn,
silver smiles from beautiful eyes,
never beckoned but always welcome,
her gift to all she knew.
Gone from us now, memories
of her are a golden echo.

 

This is my response to Poetics: Daffy for Daffodils, Sprung in Spring, the prompt from Merril at dVerse ~ Poets Pub, which is to use in a poem at least three phrases from a list of daffodil varieties. I’ve used four names: golden dawn, silver smiles, beautiful eyes, golden echo.

My title is from a line in Emily Dickinson’s “A Light exists in Spring.”

Image source: Wikimedia Commons ~ Narcissus poeticus

Shipwreck Salvation ~ sea shanty ~ with audio

/ Ken Gierke / rivrvlogr / 28 Comments

Shipwreck Salvation

The waves are high
this time around
Let’s hope this ship don’t wreck
The last one out
has run aground
Don’t let this damn ship wreck

We’re headin’ out
for one deep dive
Let’s hope this ship don’t wreck
Just let us all
come back alive
Don’t let us join those wrecks

The captain says
with seas this rough
Let’s hope this ship don’t wreck
Let’s batten down,
stash all your stuff
Don’t let this damn ship wreck

The captain’s mate
has long passed out
Let’s hope this ship don’t wreck
We’re going down
without a doubt
Don’t let us join those wrecks

We’re donnin’ gear,
and givin’ thanks
Let’s hope this ship don’t wreck
With half a chance
and full air tanks
We might just dive this wreck

But lookit there,
it that blue sky?
Let’s hope this ship don’t wreck
It looks like we’re
not gonna die
So let’s go dive that wreck!

This is my response to Day Ten at napowrimo.net,
where the prompt is to write a sea shanty.

Shared with Open Link #340 at dVerse ~ Poets Pub.

With Resolve ~ with audio

/ Ken Gierke / rivrvlogr / 24 Comments

 

With Resolve

Would I be that person again?
Am I not, still?
The anger that stewed within is gone,
resolved with understanding. Loss
weighs heaviest when dismissed.
Recognized, accepted, it still lives
within me, an empty space
never to be filled yet always holding
those who cannot be replaced.

This is my response to Reena’s Xploration Challenge #241, which offers this line as inspiration: “The only ghost that scares is a past version of you.”

Shared with OpenLinkNight #321 Blast Off!

Missed, in Any Weather ~ memoir poetry ~ with audio

/ Ken Gierke / rivrvlogr / 40 Comments

Missed, in Any Weather

The farthest thing from my mind
when I’m chipping away
at the frozen layer on my driveway
on a chilly, mid-Missouri February morning
that, as usual, has as much rain as snow
is to wish for more of the same.
But here I am on a ninety-six degree day
in August crossing a Target parking lot
as I wade through heat waves
rising from the asphalt that remind me
of that Vegas hospital parking lot
in early June of ’93 after visiting Dad
and thinking he’d be flying home soon –
we know how that worked out –
wishing I could have one of those
ice-crusted snow days. Or better yet,
just one more minute working beside Dad
at Overland Express back in Buffalo
in the ’70s with the snow blowing
between the trailers and across the dock,
his face just as red from the cold
as it would get if he were here with me
on this hot, August Missouri day.

This is my response to Twiglet 290: ice-crusted snow.

As it happens this also meets the challenge for Poetics: Sometimes August isn’t recognized, the prompt from Sanaa at dVerse ~ Poets Pub.

Blackbird ~ with audio

/ Ken Gierke / rivrvlogr / 17 Comments

 

Blackbird

The time has come.
A flame long lit rises higher
with each generation.

No longer meek
or following a creed
that dictates second-class status,

this sisterhood, each woman
who walks this earth, grows
with each bridge crossed.

Do not ask me to refute this,
for I can not. Nothing will stop
their search for equality.

Its progress may seem slow,
but a blackbird in the wind
will still choose its course.

This is my response to Wordle 577 at The Sunday Whirl.

blackbird / flame / wind / time / cross / me / woman / meek / seem / creed / search / earth

Shared with OpenLink Night #319: Midsummer Edition!  at dVerse~ Poets Pub.

solitude ~ with audio

/ Ken Gierke / rivrvlogr / 13 Comments

solitude

fear of conformity
this loneliness
that keeps me from joining in

must minds be alike
to get along?
am i so different?

the same needs
a desire to belong
without judgment

perfection
though not requisite
the mind’s obstacle

is that it
the fear of judgment
that holds me back?

fear of failure
to conform
all in my mind

This is my response to Poetics: When it comes to Peer Pressure,
the prompt from Sanaa at dVerse ~ Poets Pub.

this is apheresis ~ concrete poem ~ with audio

/ Ken Gierke / rivrvlogr / 31 Comments

 

This is my response to Day 28 at napowrimo.net, where we are asked to write a concrete poem. This may narrowly fit within the definition, as it was adapted from a poem written in verse to fit the shape of a drop of blood. (The original appears below.) I wrote it in 1998, when I was donating platelets at Roswell Park Cancer Center in Buffalo, NY. Framed, it was still hanging on the wall of the donation center when I stopped donating platelets in 2006. It was published in the hospital newsletter at the time.

Since it was written in 1998, I’ll be sure to write a poem later today, to stay current in National./Global Poetry Writing Month.

Shared with OpenLink Night #315 at dVerse ~ Poets Pub.

 

this is apheresis

faces
          filled with cheer
          expressing gratitude
reflecting
          optimism necessary
          for survival
shared
          by some
down the halls
forsaken
          by others
          beyond the walls

industry
          devoted to
          saving lives
seeking
          to aid
          those in need
replenishing
          vital components
          of a precious nature
welcoming
          donations from
          a precious source

sometimes
          a jab and
          a mild twinge
sometimes
          the sense of a feather
          passing over my arm
either way
          any sense of intrusion
is soon gone
replaced
          by thoughts
          of those in need

departing
          with no need
          to return
living
          with no
          of urgency
thinking
          of those
          who know urgency
returning
          to offer aid
          expecting to see
faces
          filled with cheer
          expressing gratitude

this is apheresis

 

 

There Is Nothing but a Memory ~ with audio

/ Ken Gierke / rivrvlogr / 20 Comments

 

There Is Nothing but a Memory

There is nothing to the reports of my early –
or not-so-early – demise.

There is nothing I would like more
than for that to not be true.

There is nothing to be done,
when all is said and done.

There is nothing to see here.

There is nothing more to say,
except that there is nothing.

This is my response to Day 22 at napowrimo.net,
which asks us to write a poem that uses repetition.

Too Smart for My Own Good ~ with audio

/ Ken Gierke / rivrvlogr / 29 Comments
Departure

                    Wheat Field with Crows (1890), Vincent van Gogh

 

Too Smart for My Own Good

No way. Never would I name you.
Ghosts. Closets.
Sure we had some good times.
Too good, at times.
Too much drinking, not enough
time spent on studies. Playing cards
was not the math I needed. The physics
of dominoes and falling cards
did nothing for my grades.
After two years, I engineered my way
out of school and into the job
building stereo and TV cabinets.
Thanks for getting me in. Of course,
you were always in control, but the boss
telling me I was too smart for my own good
was the best thing that could happen to me.
I went on to drive trucks. And drink less.
You went back to school. It was too late
for me to plant those seeds. You were
the wheat field. I was the crows, leaving
the darkness behind. Where would I be
now, if I’d stayed?

This is my response to Day 21 at napowrimo.net, in which were asked to “write a poem in which you first recall someone you used to know closely but are no longer in touch with, then a job you used to have but no longer do, and then a piece of art that you saw once and that has stuck with you over time. Finally, close the poem with an unanswerable question.” (The name can be found in the first line.)

Coincidentally, Departure, written in 2016, also uses Vincent van Gogh’s Wheat Field with Crows and touches on the same topic, although indirectly.

Image source: Wikimedia Commons