Autumn crept through the hills

Autumn crept through the hills, last night
Trailing her gossamer gown
Leaving golden treetops in her wake
With green underskirts and slippers

She stopped to whisper her secrets
To blushing boughs
Scattered among the modest orange
and dancing yellow

Summer hides on the forest floor
Giggling in the trickles and streams
Which skip between moss covered stones
And puddle in pools of dappled sunlight

It’s almost past Summer’s bedtime
But she plays a final game of hide and seek
Her sunny warmth lingers as she is swept
By Autumns playful breeze

Autumn will soon tuck Summer in
The night of the grand ball is coming
And she must adorn herself
For a brief…
Breathless…
Moment

Autumn crept through the hills, last night
Trailing her gossamer gown
Leaving golden treetops in her wake
With green underskirts and slippers

The Last Few Days of Summer

There is something somewhat wistful in the early morning air
As the last few days of summer come to call
Even though I will not miss the heat, I’m sad to see her go
As she dies away and make some room for fall

The air is weighted down, still it carries summer sounds like
steady solo singing of the last cicada’s song
The sky is blue and breathless and the midday sun still shines
Nights are warm but the days are not so long

The trees start looking pale, still the leaves cling to their green
Except for one or two who take a fall
The clouds still have some power for a midday thunderstorm
But soon the flying geese will start to call

We will have just one more picnic but we know it cannot last
As we bid our summer cookout days “so long”
We will wear our shorts and sandals and will join in with the tune
As we sing the last few days of summer’s song

©Joy Payne 2018

Humanity

Author’s Note: This is a style with which I have played a fair bit. I call it, bidirectional poetry. Your eyes begin in the upper left and can travel down in columns or across in rows. The style requires a minimum of two columns and has no maximum. This style does not require a rhyme scheme. Generally, it’s intended to read columns first and then the rows to progress the story that the poem tells. I hope you enjoy!

listening to
all of the ways we get it
wrong
and yet we feel we got it
right
we ought to wonder if we
strengthen
our sense of unity or else
weaken
in our views of love and
loss

the sounds around us and
confused
thoughts and actions twist us
straight
again somehow we stop and
think
instead of tearing down
the world
hearts in the passing of our senses and
hope
brings us into a new beginning

Autumn in the South

By J. Payne

Some years are hot and humid
Some years, more cool and dry
But always in October
Autumn’s sailing by
The trees upon the hilltops
And near the river’s mouth
Will change their clothes quite quickly
When it’s autumn in the South

The sound of mowers mowing
Slows up a bit from June
And some things are still growing
But winter’s coming soon
So find your fleece and jackets
Cause come by word of mouth
Is news that frost is on the way
It’s autumn in the South

And though today it’s 65
Tomorrow’s sweat will come
The weatherman says 86
Cause summer’s not quite done
Just when you think you like the fall
Some snot drips in your mouth
Ragweed is king this time of year
It’s autumn in the South.

The geese will fly, goodness knows why
It’s not that cold down here
But spices that grace pumpkin pie
Will everywhere appear
A flury of baked goods exchanged
Will melt right in your mouth
And we’re just glad that summer dies
When its autumn in the south.

Musings

Some thoughts about our focus as a society on STEM vs. the humanities:

STEM is important, but it should not be our only focus.
Without the arts, the written word, the humanities, we begin to lose our connection to each other and our world.
Human expression reminds us of who we are and how we are connected. It tells us that we are not alone in our experiences and opens our eyes to new perspectives.
Support the artists, writers, musicians! Support the historians, archaeologists, and architects.
Sciences tells us how we are here, humanities shows us why we should stay.
Math, physics, and computing explain our world, make it more habitable, and helps to save lives.
Music, visual art, and stories explain our experience, make it more valuable, and helps to save souls from withering.

Protected: Excerpt from my fantasy novel in progress

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Tolerance

To my elders
I wish for you this year
Tolerance
We who lack the same scope
May not see with absolute lines
We don’t realize the way we
Dismiss you as obsolete
Reject your worldviews
Treat you like a burden
I know it’s a lot to ask but
May we learn tolerance
From you

To my juniors
I wish for you this year
Tolerance
We who lack the same energy
May not see with wild colors
We don’t realize the way we
Dismiss you as inexperienced
Reject your new viewpoint
Treat you like a burden
I know it’s a lot to ask but
May we learn tolerance
From you

To my peers
I wish for you this year
Tolerance
We who lack the same achievements
May not see with the same frames
We don’t realize the way we
Dismiss our world as too complex
Treat injustice like a burden
I know it’s a lot to ask but
May we learn tolerance
From each other

Global Casualty

I am a casualty of the casualties of unintentioned people
I am captive by my plight and sentenced to death by armies of cell-phone having, dog walking, organic chip eating ranks of the intentionally unconfronted
I am consigned to a pit so deep that light is just a dream

They don’t mean to leave me to thirst, starve, freeze, swelter, or contract preventable diseases
They don’t mean to leave me in ignorance, poverty, war, exploitation
They don’t mean to…

And so it is they who pull the trigger
And so it is they who eat my food and throw away the rest, drink my water and pollute what is left
And so it is they who take my labor for nothing, profit from my misery, revel in a world where I don’t exist

All because they don’t mean
Anything

My Friends

Bright colors
But some duller – though handy
Only words
Often helpful – sometimes banal
Orphaned once
Oaken apartments – now their home
Kept dry
Kind use prolongs life – no spills
Straight spines
Skins – some hard, some soft

Independence Day

I originally posted this early last year but in honor of the yearly celebration of independence as a nation, I thought it appropriate to consider what it means to be free. In order to honor all the sacrifices made by our families and our forefathers, lets remember to keep working to fight for freedom and equality for our fellow human beings however that might take shape.

Sonnet 1

When men began to think of freedom’s call
We searched the world – the land, the sea, the sky
And then we pledged, each one, to give our all
To this, our land, where freedom then must lie
But then discovered new complexities
To free ourselves, from others we must steal
And rights for us means others on their knees
With someone else’s neck beneath our heel
One problem solved but two pop up instead
And one man’s freedom creeps on top of yours
But rule too much and liberty is dead
While corpses pile up on foreign shores
A place of independence – power-blind
Has only ever lived within man’s mind