June Sciortino: Featured Poet

June Sciortino—Featured Poet

One of the great side-effects about writing together through the month of April has been the connections I’ve been lucky to make with other poets from around the world.  June was gracious enough to share some of her work with me, and I’m passing it along to you.

When asked, June shared this about herself: “ I have always written poetry,” she writes,  “from time to time, when something touches me.”  She admits that she only became serious about poetry after her daughter died.  “I had been caring for her, so was completely devastated and lost. I decided to join a creative writing course and at the beginning wrote short stories … but was never satisfied until I rediscovered poetry.”  She goes on to say, “It has helped me cope with my loss because I can pour my sorrows into poems for her (these of course are private).”

I hope you enjoy her work—I certainly have!  To visit her blog, go here: http://googlepoet.blogspot.co.uk/

Behind the Door (inspired by Prompt #14, Behind the Door)

Behind the door
lie in tatters
the bits n’ bobs
our yesterday
dreams thwarted
love departed
but yet in mind
buried in heart
behind the door

________________________________

If my name was Aloysius,
All I made would be delicious,
I’d bake a cake so auspicious,
That would also be nutritious,
Oh Aloysius, so ambitious.

________________________________

It might seem to you that I’m wasting my time.
When trying to find a most excellent rhyme.
Well it’s my time I’m wasting, now is that a crime?

 ________________________________

Naughty proposals, wild laughter,
Tasty food, desserts to lust after,
Lager and wine, loads no doubt,
Stag night? Oh no, it’s girls night out.

________________________________

I could cry a hundred trillion tears,
For all those lost and lonely years.
Trillions are simply not enough,
Without you life’s been very tough.

Need some space to think it through.
Chaotic thoughts — but what is true.
Time to gather done facts together.
Before I blow and lose my tether.

One gaunt wrinkled stubbly face,
Plus a toothless crooked smile.
Include a giant chip chocolate cookie,
Rejoice for it made his day worthwhile.

________________________________

When love was blind, one’s desire heartfelt,
Dreams became saturated, swamped by intense needs.
You wept as aspirations vanished in the storm.

Prompt #11: Tell a Story

If you would like, you may email your responses directly to me at aprilpameticky@hotmail.com, or leave your efforts in the comment section below each day’s prompt.  I would be happy to share work and links back to bloggers and poets that have decided to participate.
Many of you may already have a poem or piece that fits the prompt, but try to write and share something new.  Flex muscles.  Write.  You can always revise later.

Prompt #11: Tell a Story

I frequently find myself inspired by another poem.  It’s the impetus behind this series of prompts in April.  I wanted new material of my own to work from, and I also knew I would gain new energy from my fellow poets.  Acknowledging that, I wanted to pull a couple of my favorite poems to share during the month.  You can use this as your prompt in several ways:

1. Tell a colorful story of your own, keeping with an unusual statement or piece of dialog
2. Respond to this poem, perhaps seeing these two characters several hours later
3. Riff off of Elvis-have fun with it.

From Garrison Keillor’s Good Poems 2002

Elvis Kissed Me by T.S. Kerrigan (327)

“Elvis kissed me once,” she swears,
sitting in a neon dive
ordering her drinks in pairs.

Two stools down you nurse a beer,
sensing easy pickings here.

“Back in sixty-eight,” she sighs,
smoothing back her yellow hair.
Teared mascara smears her eyes.

Drawing near, you claim you’ve met,
offer her a cigarette.

“Call me cheap,” she sobs, “or bad,
say that decent men dismissed me,
say I’ve lost my looks, but add,
Elvis kissed me.”

Afterword or PS

I’m just adding this lovely video because it seems fitting:

Prompt #7: Poetry of Place

You may email your responses directly to me at aprilpameticky@hotmail.com, or leave your efforts in the comment section below each day’s prompt.  I would be happy to share work and links back to bloggers and poets that have decided to participate.
 
Many of you may already have a poem or piece that fits the prompt, but try to write and share something new.  Flex muscles.  Write.  You can always revise later.

Prompt #7: Poetry of Place

I love poems about place, poems that dig deep to describe the aura, the feel, of a time and space.  The irony is that wepoemcrazy always occupy space and rarely pay attention to it.  Susan Goldsmith Wooldridge, in Poemcrazy, talks about encouraging her poetry students to go for long walks and just “collect words.”  These collections then become the seeds of poems, but it takes that discerning ear and eye.

Pick a place and try to stay away from an extraordinary place in your memory.  Focus in on the mundane instead, the blasé, your office cubicle or the interior of your car.  Describe it as if it were the most fabulous vacation destination… or go the other direction and describe it as a little tortuous corner of hell.

But flex those ‘poetry’ muscles.

Now shhhh, I’ve got to do this for myself.