Surely, we can tell when those around us are in a bad mood or truly great mood. We can tell when they’re excited, calm, uptight, hyper or afraid. Much like people, poems have moods as well. This mood is tied into how a poet sets the scene, what is happening in the plot, and/or the rhythm of the poetic piece. The mood of the poems can change, usually as the situations in the plot change.
Write a poem in which you create a mood in either a doctor’s waiting room, a crowded movie theater, or any intimate gathering of people using the aspects of the poetic process we have discussed so far. Use your poetic skills to tell how it feels!
Phoenix Rising Poetry Guild 
WAITING AND WONDERING
Time is unbearable,
the lumbering behemoth,
the eight-hundred pound
gorilla in your gut.
In a room full of strange
looking strangers, you feel
certain your condition spells
curtains for this life so planned.
Hands clammy and cold
shivers meander up your spine.
You felt fine this morning…
last week… a few months..
you don’t remember the last
time you felt yourself.
This common cold,
or hypoglycemic malaise,
those days when the soreness
became aches,
become pains,
become more than you wish to feel.
No one knows the troubles you’ve seen.
No one moves from their seats.
No one wants be the first victim
of this specialist’s dire diagnosis.
No one chose this, and nobody
ever asked them what they wanted.
I’m about to go home but they’ve just
called my name. Will I ever be the same?
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This is literally chilling. The poem works, though I wish it didn’t.
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That dread is so heavy
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This is chilling to read and the anxiety stays with you.
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Big, BIG sigh at the end of this…each line picks up intensity and speed…chilling and I echo, William word for word on the sentiment.
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SUMMER EVE
The moon is riding low tonight;
the clouds are glowing in its light;
the air is waiting placidly
and all of it is charming me.
The clouds are glowing in its light
as nighthawks pass my line of sight;
I watch them as, from left to right,
their passage augers gentle might.
The air is waiting placidly
for morning breeze to set it free
with birdsong for its canopy;
the stillness whispers hints of glee
and all of it is charming me.
A sense of serendipity
settles my soul. The moon’s soft flight
has rendered worry moot and trite.
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I feel better just reading this.
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With wings and winds there is an ‘air’ about this piece 😉
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This put a smile on my face. You have such a talent for rhyme.
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I love the rhythm of your poem, William…an entrancing song of awe and wonder…I so enjoyed this!
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[…] https://phoenixrisingpg.wordpress.com/2015/06/21/phoenix-rising-destination-poetry-how-does-it-feel-… […]
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The mood of a ‘car’ ?
If some can name their autos…does that not give them ‘life?’ Just a different take to go with my mash of prompts that you can see if you go to the link.
Jeep Speak
(a haibun)
And just now at nine pm the sun is almost gone.
The sky once grey, still a speckled robin’s egg blue,
the cracked shell of new birth…
fledgling in the nest settles to dream of the flight
that might arrive on the wind of tomorrow.
*
In the parking garage facing the sunset, forgotten briefly
until the next need – unable to wander on my own –
not a single tremulous movement once they key is separated
only to remember where I have been
after having held those who use my holds
a metal formed fortress built on modern traditions –
for men’s’ love of speed and the woman that travels with him –
there are no customs for a rental, passing through cities and states,
save to admire the architecture of the earth and buildings
that dot the landscape – no escape from the driver’s handling…
*
And just now returned to the lot – outside,
no cover from the lengthening afternoon,
during this longest day of the year to watch the season turn,
and be baked as the fledgling leaves the nest,
for a flight that an automobile shall never have…
*
captive, exhausted
intimate with those pulsing
a tool to be used
(c)JP/dh
a link to the site:
Jeep Speak
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That Jeep auto not feel so bad. ; ) clever this
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I think this is great take on the prompt., and for me, the double (as I see it) use of “exhausted” is delicious.
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Ah, yes even I did a clap at that 😉
Thanks for picking up on it. T’was my pleasure 🙂
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I love your opening and your choice for point of view!
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At The Dentist’s Office
A greasy brown-haired teenager
keeps sneezing. I concentrate
on my book. When I look up,
two women enter and sit
across from me. The first flips
through Elle, long red nails tapping
pages, obviously unfazed
about being here. I look at the clock.
My appointment time flew by
an hour ago. They are slow
movers in this dentist’s office,
where smiling tooth characters
grin at you from yellow walls.
The other woman starts
chatting away. Her graying
hair juts out from her head, nails
bitten to shreds, her voice hitting me
like chalk on a blackboard. I look down
at my book, back at the clock, hear
faint sounds of a drill. The teenager’s
nose is red. Why did he come here
with a cold?
Tap, tap, tap. Elle’s reader flips back
and forth, as she answers Ms. Squeak.
I get up and stare out the small window.
Sitting below it, a heavily perfumed
woman is yelling into her cell phone; I thought
they were not allowed.
Sweating and annoyed, I feel
a headache beat behind my eyes.
I give the receptionist a piece of my mind,
and everyone stares at me,
like I’m the bad guy. I pick up my book
and leave, slamming the glass door
behind me. My tooth no longer hurts.
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I have been having teeth problems this month- no fun at all. Thankfully that’s over (I hope). My wait wasn’t in the dentist’s office but for an appt to. Either way, it grates on your nerves. well done
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Thanks, Debi. It did not happen to me, but I could see it in my mind.
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I love this. It is so starkly real, and I can imagine the toothache fading as the annoyances build up.
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Thanks, William!
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This is so powerful!! The imagery and descriptions of your characters drew me right in, Sara! What a joy to read. 🙂
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Thanks, Hannah!
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Twelve O’Clock Blues
A long whistle of the passing train
piercing the dark like a wail
faint clickity-clack of wheels on rail
sings a wandering refrain.
Call of the coyote, wail of the loon
breaking the silence of night
with lonesome intoning of their plight
waits for an answering croon.
Rushing onward water over stones
tumbling and splashing with glee
determined to reach the distant sea
humming in ambient tones.
Tossing and turning in restless sleep
dreaming of exotic sands
imagining entwined loving hands
midnight’s sad songs make me weep.
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The descriptions here are entrancing. Beautifully done, in my opinion.
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I love, “midnight’s sad songs.” A dreaming poem.
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A definite longing in this poem, Debi and the musicality of the bird-song brought me joy…wonderful write!
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Ah, yes – I think we both have that T-shirt that says; “Been there done that” – partly why I’m with hubby now… as he works on a job site out of state… just to be with him.
Midnight can be weepy… and yet then another day passes closer towards a reunion?
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[…] Shared at Phoenix Rising Poetry Guild […]
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IT’S ALL IN MY HEAD
I’m alone
in this space,
this place
where thoughts
collide
with reality.
Whispers of hope
are crowded out
by shouts
of disappointment
and failure.
My cries go unheard;
tears, undried.
I’m all alone
in this space.
2015-06-22
P. Wanken
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Love the way you described how alone and noisy one can be.
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Thanks, Sara. It’s how my head has been feeling…glad to put some of the noise in writing!
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A relate-able feeling captured well.
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Thanks, Hannah. ❤
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It’s amazing how noisy the head is, and for me, this captures that beautifully.
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Thanks, William — glad the noise came across.
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Yes, loud and clear… and I recognize the space. Well done
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Thanks, Debi.
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[…] PHOENIX RISING – DESTINATION: POETRY – HOW DOES IT FEEL? (MOOD) […]
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Bringer of Awe
You see – it was a mere twenty steps taken – it was then on crest of hill overlooking marsh, breathing in its deep green scent and peering over its tall stalks that I thought about it. I wondered when and I believed it would be soon – I’d see one soon. And so I was surprised and also not surprised that it appeared just then – after I’d descended and started round the bend. There on the pale white sheet of morning sky – a most majestic creature made its broad-swooping way across clouds. Everything went still in this moment. Even the other birds seemed to hush and watch as you pulsed with grand-sweeping wings – your head pushed forward with each stroke – and the ‘S’ curve of your elongated throat pulled in close swayed with motion of flight. Yes, consuming and prehistoric-like you caused breath to catch in the chest of every witness present…trailing away with narrow dash-lines of legs and pointed arrow-feet.
Just when I wondered –
there you were – bringer of awe
O’ Great Blue Heron.
Copyright © Hannah Gosselin 2015
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This reminds me of an encounter with at great blue: early morning, out of the sun; broad wings looming in the binocular. Truly a “bringer of awe.” I absolutely love this haibun.
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Knowing your love of birds, it brings me great joy that you love this, William!! Thank you, SO much! 🙂
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We have a heron, possibly a pair that use the creek near us on their route. Depending on the weather and availability of fish… they stay most of the spring, summer and fall. As soon as you mentioned “S” neck…I knew. They are beautiful birds 🙂
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In the Moonlight
The white horse, indigo, in the moonlight
Its full mane flowing along
Dreamy shadows called from the ocean
Singing their age-old song
Come where there’s adventure
Come and you’ll be free
Forget all your worries and troubles
Come to the lovely sea
The rider, a wisp of a woman
Her violet hair waving as the mane
Answered the urgent calling
And was never seen again.
Come where there’s adventure
Come and you’ll be fee
Forget all your worries and troubles
Come to the lovely sea
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Wow. For me this has a strong Irish flavor, and is so melodic. Wonderful.
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Thanks, William
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