Ekphrastic Poetry · Poem · Poetry · Publication · Vita Brevis Press

Blue Baby

My Ekphrastic poem, “Blue Baby”, written in response to the painting “A Woman Holding a Balance” by Johannes Vermeer, has been published by Vita Brevis. Thank you, Brian Geiger!

Blue Baby – Poetry by Barbara Leonhard

It’s interesting that this poem was published on Father’s Day considering the theme I propose. What is she weighing? Is it really the pearls?

Check out some other poetry put up by this press.

https://vitabrevisliterature.com/

Image: Johannes Vermeer, “A Woman Holding a Balance” (1664)

Ekphrastic Poetry · Free Verse Revolution · Martha's Artistic Flarings · My Screaming Twenties · Original Digital Art · Poem · Poetry · Publication · Recognition/ Honor

Sunday Best: phantom

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My poem “Dark Apostle” ranked top of three best chosen for this past week’s challenge, Phantom. My sister, Martha Harris, created the digital image, “The Devil’s in the Details”. Thank you FREE VERSE REVOLUTION!

FREE VERSE REVOLUTION

Dear reader,

I hope you are well; staying safe and healthy.

Catch up on this week’s pieces for the theme ‘Illusion’:

Tuesday – Megha Sood

Wednesday – L. Stevens

Thursday – Robert Ronnow

Friday – Prathami

Saturday – Jaya Avendel


This week’s prompt was ‘phantom’ and responses were posted across WordPress and Instagram, here are the top three:

Dark Apostle – Barbara Leonhard

A list of sordid memories – I. D. Bora (@mymusings.2018 on Instagram)

  1. of my pleated skirt and dried rusty brown patches on it. like maps in an atlas. the horror that followed amongst my batchmates as they giggled. ‘oh! that girl’
  2. a hound whose shadowy presence and untamed eyes trailed my footsteps.
  3. that phantom being who i thought could trust. who played piano in the dark. whose fingers so dextrous over the keys. found their way to my thighs then to my knees as my voice choked…

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artisticflarings.blog · Ekphrastic Poetry · Healing · Martha's Artistic Flarings · Original Digital Art · Poem · Poetry

Dark Apostle

Rising shadows of flames,

dressed in deep void, I arrive

to burn the bramble of your complacent life.

You hide inside this clay façade,

live for self in idle pleasure,

slumber in this carcass

of addiction and desire.

 

I hold you down as you writhe in agony,

thrive on your muffled screams.

You smolder in my odious breath.

My laughter, cackling flames.

You recoil, gasping for prayer,

rebuking this demon

and fear that this blood fire

is your last sunrise. Confess,

 

I fascinate you.

Though cast to the raging depths,

I still rise, a dark angel.

Not all wings are lucent.

This charred cloak is age old,

frayed by lies, greed, addictions.

 

Inferno flames are still divine.

I am the instigator, the phantom fire

plundering your earth

to crack open your seed

and hasten your growth.

 

For this you need me, Dark Apostle,

the harbinger sent to alarm and awaken,

to jolt you from trance

into rebirth.

 

revised The Dark Apostle 05/12/2020

©Barbara Harris Leonhard, extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog; meelosmom.podbean.com (Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul)

Image: “The Devil’s in the Details”, original digital art, ©Martha Harris. See Martha’s Artistic Flarings@artisticflarings.blog

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ekphrastic Poetry · Free Verse Revolution · Poem · Poetry

A Rocky Start

Sapling, you shoot roots in the shallow bucket

engorged with sharp bits of seed hulls

left by the squirrels, picked at by cardinals.

 

Your tender, slender stem, elongated spine,

extends from cracked dirt in a clay flower pot,

the old home of an expired aloe vera plant. Can your trunk

 

lengthen and thicken under the garden chair? Will raccoons

wrench you from your place and scatter your limp leaves

or twist them in play? Wash them in the water pan?

 

Your stubborn roots dig into the garden

on half-turned clumps of earth. A wretched end,

I tear you from the soil and toss you

into a pile of ivy shorn for mulch.

 

But you, irascible sapling, you

survive in stone.

 

©Poem and Image: Barbara Leonhard

Barbara Leonhard is a writer, poet, and blogger at Extraordinary Sunshine Weaver.  Her podcast Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul explores universal themes such as Grief, Kindness, and Presence. She taught writing for many years at the University of Missouri and is the author of Discoveries in Academic Writing. She is also a regular contributor to Free Verse Revolution, Phoebe, MD: Poetry + Medicine (https://phoebemd.com/), and Go Dog Go Café.

Poetry Blog: extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog
Poetry Podcastmeelosmom.podbean.com

 

artisticflarings.blog · Ekphrastic Poetry · Healing · Martha's Artistic Flarings · Original Digital Art · Poem · Poetry

An Angel in the Dark

If I were an angel in the dark,

I would appear in flames simply

from the radiance of my eyes.

 

I would fire up candles for prayers.

I would make twilight shimmer

like a mirror still lake.

 

I would awaken you

from slumber and despair,

gather you up gently,

swaddle you in my gossamer wings.

 

I would cast out your pain with lightning,

incense your soul with soothing myrrh,

bathe you in waves of forgetting,

deliver you to a vista of light

on a path of comets as beacons.

 

I would gift you wings,

teach you how to fly through

clouds of many colors,

swing on stars falling into a sea of lights.

 

I would never leave you

in times of battle or new birth,

the time of the death of your pain

a blazing nova, a new sun.

 

All of this I would do for you.

 

Who would know more of the legion of light

than an angel of the night?

 

 

Copyright© 2017/10/10, revised 2020/04/13 Barbara Harris Leonhard @extraordinarysunshineweaver.wordpress.com

My poetry podcast, Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul (meelosmom.podbean.com)

Image: “An Angel in the Dark” (original art © by my sister Martha Harris.) See Martha’s Artistic Flarings @artisticflarings.blog

 

 

 

braveandreckless.blog · Ekphrastic Poetry · Go Dog Go Cafe · Original Collages · Poem · Poetry · Recognition/ Honor · Writing

Moon Ate the Dark Challenge: Moon Eats the Dark – Barbara Leonhard

I love Christina’s prompt! Moon Ate the Dark! I hope you enjoy my poem and original collage. Check out her site, braveandrecklessblog.com for more entries.

Poem and Collage: ©Barbara Leonhard

extraordianrysunshineweaver.blog
Check out my poetry podcast, Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul. Find it at meelosmom.podbean.com.

Brave & Reckless

In a nest of owls,
I awaken bare, bleeding.
Talons pierce flesh.
Stabbing beaks shear old skin,
mincing fat and bone.

I am released into cloud.
Glossy wings unfurl.
I chase stars
and alight onto rays
of petrified time.

I scan marvel
as Moon eats the dark.
I feast on corolla
of sunflowers that sway in breeze
as Owl eats the light.

Image ‘Owl Eats Light’ by Barbara Leonhard


Barbara Leonhard publishes poetry on her WordPress blog, Extraordinary Sunshine Weaver. She is a regular contributor to FREE VERSE REVOLUTION and Go Dog Go Café. She started a poetry podcast on Podbean called Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul.

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artisticflarings.blog · Audio · Digital Art · Ekphrastic Poetry · Martha's Artistic Flarings · Original Digital Art · Podcasts · Poem · Poetry · Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul · Prose · Publication · Writing

Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul- Podcast Episode 1, We are Entwined Spirits

I have a poetry podcast on Podbean called “Poetry: The Memoir of the Soul“. Let me know what you think!

The post is called ‘We Are Entwined Spirits’. When we feel isolated and lost, Poetry is our medicine.

http://meelosmom.podbean.com/

This podcast has a new poem in it.

Memoirs

Poems are memoirs

Of our human journey

Our life stories

And spiritual quests

In images woven by craft

The history of life in one poem

Comprised of many poems

Each of which is a cell in our ‘bio’

Our biography, graphs

Pictures of words

Poems are lines

Connecting the dots

Bridges to specks of self

From other selves

Poets are space holders

In a matrix

The Tree of Life

The Tree of All

If you would like to contribute poetry to this podcast, you may submit it to me in a Word document attached in an email to me at meelosmom@gmail.com. On the subject line, indicate it is a submission to this podcast. I can fit it into a theme. In the email, include any pertinent information on yourself and publications you want me to promote, especially for the work submitted.

Poems: ©Barbara Leonhard, extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog

Image: ©Martha Harris, marthaflares.blog

 

 

Ekphrastic Poetry · Poem · Poetry

River Grass at Summer’s End

Seedlings in spring,

tall grasses in summer sun,

we scan life on the lapping currents

at our river’s edge.

 

Clinging to trees, cicadas call out an endless shrill.

Water striders mate and die. Widow Skimmers dance

on the waves. A turtle basks on a dead limb

caught in a root wad along our bank. An eagle keeps watch

from a lofty sycamore perch.

 

Clouds darken the face of the sun. A kayak floats

downstream in shadows. A warm gust lifts and sways us

on the shore, and we wave at the paddler drifting by.

 

The paddler succumbs to rain. The wind stirs wakes as

an Asian Carp pounds into the boat. The beaver

makes it to shore first in the storm. The river bank is

summer’s bed of sand at our roots.

 

In the bluster of early autumn, we bear our seeds at water’s edge.

They scatter like startled bees in the falling light.

Our ravaged arms reach for the falling light at dusk.

The glassy river reflects our age as colors fade.

Our stems bend, thirsty for noon.

 

This Poem is a revision of “Summer’s End”, which I put up on August 31, 2019.

 

©Barbara Harris Leonhard, extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog

Image: “Sunset on Missouri River” ©Dierik Leonhard

 

Digital Art · Ekphrastic Poetry · Poem · Poetry · Writing

An Imperfect Bride

Let’s go! It’s time!

Now!?

I’m still in my floral blue knit night

gown, plum-colored sweatshirt, &

baby doll slippers from Walmart!

No one will see you or care.

Not important.

An uncharged phone?

A half-packed purse?

Uncompleted morning duties?

I gather myself,

an imperfect bride,

for the trip.

I view trees in autumn attire ablaze

against a sky the color of my blue on white china

left unwashed in the sink.

The creeks & river have risen again,

meeting us along the road.

Muddy currents obscure clarity.

Mesmerized by the mystery,

I arrive at the bank

with dry lips the color of pallor.

In the stillness,

an ancient sycamore disrobes.

AutumnGoddesswallpaper (1)

 

©Barbara Harris Leonhard, extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog

Image: Pixabay.com and free wallpaper image on Google

Ekphrastic Poetry · Poem · Poetry · Writing

Kama

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Royal honey is the blood of my womb,

lush creation, even messy havoc,

hungry for birth.

I am Kama.

My desire burns as the sun;

I breathe floral light,

savor the dusty bloom of your earth &

devour your elixir.

I enchant you with my dance & song:

          See me.

                 See me.

                       My heart is a comb

                             of many rooms

                                      gushing golden treasures.

          Dare to venture

                 into my mystery.

                       See me.

                               See me.

                                      I will gather you into me &

                                              transport you.

             I am Kama.

                     See me &

                            I will make you a God.

 

©Barbara Harris Leonhard, extraordinarysunshineweaver.blog

Images: Pixabay