Have been missing in action,
losing time, perhaps potential,
maybe even future victory.

Evidence may be found in bare
white pages, lacking all words
rolling off tongue, pen, or keyboard.

Guess I decided to become another
entity, fill my world with color
rather than written definitions.

Saturate air with another language,
ease my world away from hate-filled
rhetoric and name-calling derision.

Point it toward a different harmony,
and in that process create a different
type of poetry. One that speaks

neither to head nor heart,
but directly
to the soul.

Elizabeth Crawford 12/1/2018

Posted at The Sunday Whirl: #380

Words: missing, bare, with, me, rolling, losing,
potential, entity, evidence, victory, decide, air

Also posted at Poets United: Poetry Pantry 431

Note: I have created a separate post on another blog which illustrates and somewhat explains the meaning of this post. It can be found here:


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This Day

How I long for a tree-lined path
and a familiar shaggy four-legged companion
to shadow my less than steady footsteps.

The smell of evergreens and the chuckle
of running water as it smooths stones
that would stand in its way.

The anticipation of surprise at what
lies beyond the next bend, the heat of
sunlight too long withheld from surface of story.

Memory saved is good, but not as pleasant
as reality stored in fresh moments, collected
because I always knew, this day would come.

This day that tells me some things are now
behind me, forever past, nonredeemable
and only to be accepted with grace and gratitude.

On this day.

Elizabeth Crawford  11/18/2018

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Hard Place

Hard Place

Remembering peace
gathering together
living beside each other
without the chilling
sting of grief
that now touches
all of us

as trunk-load of violence
is unleashed to fly
like a twisted wind
whistling through teeth
of an arrogant man
who would be king.

Elizabeth Crawford 9/2/2018

Posted at: #367

Note: I’ve been absent for some time because of health issues. My site seems to have taken on a few new tricks, some of which do not allow me to respond to your comments. Sorry about that and hope to figure it all out eventually. In the meantime, know that I do appreciate your words and thoughts and thank you for taking the time to read and leave them.


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Teaching the Teacher

Zo, little one,
you are now done
with thiz making
of poemz?

“Yes, with this final piece
I am finished, finito,

What is thiz finito,
kaput? I have not heard
of theze thingz before…

“Oh, sorry. They are slang.
A different way of saying
done, or finished.”

And you need thiz zslang
to be better

“No, not really. It is usually
meant in a more playful
manner. A play on
meaning and sound.”

But kaput? Doz not zound
at all like finishzed.

“No, it doesn’t. I think
that one came from
my mother and grandmother.
They used it to say
that a task, or some activity,
had been completed,
it was over and done with
at last. They could close
the door on that one,
put it down and walk away.”

Now I can underztand
why thiz poem making
iz zo exhauzting for you.
With zo many wordz,
all with the zame meaning
how do you chooze
which one to uze?
And why do you
have zo many?

“Really good questions.
I don’t know.
Maybe because different experiences
need different expressions.
Sometimes it is the texture
of the word
and how it suits
the fabric of the poem.
The way it sits on the tongue
or rolls off of it.
The music it makes
when said aloud. “

Ahh, and do you dansce
to that muzic?
She asks
with a grin.

“Only with my fingers
using a pen,
or keyboard.”
We both laugh.

Thank you for thiz leszson
about all the wordz.

Looking up at her,
suppressing another grin,
“So, in the end,
does that mean
you think
I might make
a good dragon?”

Elizabeth Crawford  4/30/2018

Notes: For this final day of April’s NaPoWriMo, I gave a list of words that were synonyms for the word final. Told the participants that they could choose any one of them. Then challenged myself to use all of the words. It was fun. The image is a digital painting I did after finishing my first poem a day April experience. It is Marananthaheth’s color, and seemed appropriate.

Posted at Waiting On Words: word for day 30 is final


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In a dream, I stood
in swirling mist
naked and alone.

Then saw my right hand
clasped in hand
of another woman

who stood naked
and alone,
right hand clasped by another…

So on it went
this line of descent
down through darkness

of time, til’ time
when first woman stood
naked and alone

yearning for another
to talk to.

Elizabeth Crawford 4/29/2018

Notes: This is not a new poem. It is the final piece in a Chapbook, titled Singing Over The Bones. When Marianne contacted me with her suggestion for today’s prompt, I immediately, agreed, then started wondering what I could write about. This piece came to mind(it’s always been a favorite), but when I got it out, I didn’t like the way it sat on the page, so completely restructured it. For me, that’s good enough to make it new.

The image is a digital painting done several years ago. I was playing, swirling colors around, and saw several women emerge, appearing to be climbing up a mountain, toward a burgeoning sunrise. It is titled, Prayer at Dawn.

Poem is posted at Waiting On Words: Word for day 29 is  #MeToo


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About the Modern World,

At the risk of being thought
a befuddled old woman,
or a turtle flipped on its back
unable to right itself,
what I see in the modern world,
confuses, bewilders, and frightens

Makes no sense in its senseless
need to brutishly, viciously attack
what it doesn’t understand, rather
than quietly take a few moments
to enlighten itself. Screaming
to be heard, but never calmly asking
the questions that might allow
that hearing. Violently opposing
anything that is not carved in its
own cookie cutter image.

To this old woman, the modern
world looks much like a spoiled
brat having a temper tantrum.
Heedless to any but his own personal
desires. Might be best to hold him,
hug him gently, but with restraint,
until he sleeps in exhaustion, and
awakens refreshed and willing
to learn from these often hard, but
necessary lessons.

Elizabeth Crawford 4/28/2018

Posted at Waiting On Words: Word for day 28 is modern

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When two things
or people,
who were never meant
to meet
come together

With a sense
of wonder and a feeling
that there is just a bit
of magic
in the making
of that moment.

Tiny electric shock
races to brain
plugs itself in
and results
in quiet flood
of purest pleasure.

Elizabeth Crawford 4/27/2018

Notes: Image is a photograph of a rainbow reflected in water, put through the kaleidoscope app. And the above explanation is why I continue to play with them. And also why I write. Watching the words come together and make sense gives me that same moment of pleasure. I also think that is what Joseph Campbell meant when he said that we must seek and find our bliss, or never know a real sense of completion. Carl Jung defined it as synchronicity and said it was when two or more disconnected things came together, bringing about a deeper sense of awareness and understanding.

Poem is posted at Waiting On Words: Word for day 27 is serendipity

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