v e r l i e b u r r o u g h s

 Wrapped in green tissue nestled in a wooden crate It tastes like Christmas! My stomach gurgles when I peel it,  it’s the scent of cloves and hot mulled wine. Is that irreverent? I don’t know— If Van Gogh  had designed  the packaging  (or written this poem ) the paper wrap would have been blue. Challenge :   Oranges Gurgle Irreverent write a poem using these words to describe the taste of Orange

  We were waltzing to the roses with just a hint of frenzy Saturday at the hall A tinny sounding Buddy Holly emanated from the record player Sometimes we’ll sigh Sometimes we’ll cry And we'll know why just you and I Know true love ways The music skipped as we bowed and dipped in a sweaty slow dance sway My partner accidentally stepped on my feet (But his aftershave smelled divine) Challenge: to write a poem inspired by a musical notation, a genre and a random word from a list I used: notation:  “with a hint of frenzy”  genre: “waltz” word “roses”

I was there! emerging from the deepening dream Your painting  ~ stretched canvas rough wooden cedar framed Rocky islands emerging from the strait viewed through tall cedars from your studio window in your hippie house on the hill comfort of home touches my soul like a Bronwen Wallace poem: salad singing in a wooden bowl I see a young painter  living the dream delighting in the deepening green. ~ inspired by a painting by my dear friend Jenny write a poem about living with a piece of art.

  Oh, what would I be If I was just starting over on this journey? All of the arts are attractive to me But my heart tells me to write silly songs To entertain my friends and my poetry family And fortunately for me, it's free! But honestly, seriously I didn’t choose poetry Poetry picked me I think it started as a way of record keeping (a record of my own history the joy and the misery) But as so often happens with these kind of things It’s boring as hell if you don’t give it wings So respecting the craft I send you this draft and thank you for reading my scribbling I wish I could sing! challenge: to write a poem that obliquely explains why you are a poet and not some other kind of artist – or, if you think of yourself as more of a musician or painter (or school bus driver or scuba diver or expert on medieval Maltese banking) – explain why you are that and not something else!

  I see you in the doorway of your adobe hacienda I see you there in the patio  You’re reading Sappho  leaning on an elbow as the evening glows purple on the high hills Switching on the radio you’re missing Soho,    the East River,  the photo show I see you still  in Taos  New Mexico painting still life  with a flair rarity sea shells, iris, rose and cattle bones  red skies rust coloured hills and pueblos Your finely drawn pottery like broken fragments of poetry your living legacy. challenge to write a poem that directly addresses someone, and that includes a made-up word, an odd/unusual simile, a statement of “fact,” and something that seems out of place in time.

  Poetry is a beautiful bird   impossible to capture with   my charred wood and vine words more suited to Raven and Crow The resplendent Quetzal otherworldly painted, flamboyant and free          flies away. Prompt: artist glossary/Florentine codex