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Poetry Soup Honors this Writer with Front Page

Dear Trisha,

Congratulations, this is just a quick notice to let you know that your poem Rain is one of the poems being featured on the PoetrySoup home page this week. Poems are rotated each day in groups of 14-16 to give each poem an equal opportunity to be displayed.

Thanks again and congratulations.

Sincerely,

PoetrySoup

Rain ©

The great Serengeti’s broad
face lies in the African sun,
dry, weathered, cracked,
thirsty for the season’s tears

Storm clouds gather on her
brow like an old lady’s curls
Promises, promising
An empty promise

The rains are too late
The children of the Serengeti
lie down on her dusty bosom,
never to rise again
A desperate waiting fills the
air

At last, a single drop of rain
falls on the delicate skin of
the vast plain, then another
and another…

More
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BOOKS of POETRY BY TRISHA SUGAREK

 

 

haiku, poetry, pen and ink art, poems, Japanese haiku,

Life….in A Nutshell (2)

Windstill ©

Subtle silence
Windstill
trees await the next
message on the air

Windstill
not a whisper of birdsong
not a leaf-rustle intrudes
it falls fluttering to the ground, silent

The wind has departed
beyond the next hill
leaving in its wake
Windstill

 

Will it return? The breeze
dancing amongst the leaves
to the tune of the forest

Shall the still wind haunt
amongst the trees?
or come roaring back, shrieking?
Windstill

 

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My weekly BLOG features INTERVIEWS with  best-selling AUTHORS!    January: Madeline Hunter, February: Mike Lupica, March: Lee Matthew Goldberg, May: Jenny Colgan, June: Don Bentley writing for Tom Clancy, July: Veronica Henry.
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BOOKS BY TRISHA SUGAREK

 

 

 

Life…In a Nutshell

             Scent of Life  ©

Cool rain drumming on blistering asphalt,
the scent streams into nostrils.
Uncertain why it pleases.

Fresh popcorn drenched in butter,
childhood memories of
dark, musty movie houses when
Tom Mix raced across the screen.

Rich, peaty earth turned over under an autumn sky,
a primal sense of conclusion with the
larder full at harvest time.

Wrapped in strong arms, nose pressed to warm skin.
Drinking in the heat and smell of the man, your man,
beloved man, the partner in life.

Sweet puppy breath. Pure doggy conviction
that you will love him as much as he loves you.

Soft curls and sweet skin of the new babe,
powdery newness, innocence,
and trust.

Candles and incense in the great cathedral,
eons of faith, hope, belief and expectation.

Briny, sharp tang of a northern sea,
Balmy, yielding, salty essence under
the southern Cross.

Sultry air twines itself through the Vieux Carre.
Crushed sugar, wet pavement,
warm beer, praline sweet, heady grape.
Old water from a great river.

Metallic, bitter, smell of blood, be it from battle field,
hospital, butcher shop or birthing room.
Cloying In the nostrils, sticking in the throat.

Manure, pink sugary sweet, sawdust,
roasted peanuts, old canvas, the Big Top!
Childhood rushes back.

New trees, old petroleum, pine sol,
stale baloney, truck exhaust, tired clothes.
Drive on down the highway.

Quaking aspen, pitchy sap, crackling’ fire,
snowy air assaults the senses and warms
the heart.
The loon sings.

Available in Moths and Machetes, Book of Poetry
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My weekly BLOG features INTERVIEWS with  best-selling AUTHORS!    January: Madeline Hunter, February: Mike Lupica, March: Lee Matthew Goldberg, May: Jenny Colgan, June: Don Bentley writing for Tom Clancy, July: Veronica Henry.
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  On the home page, enter your email address.  Thanks!

BOOKS BY TRISHA SUGAREK

 

 

 

A Little Poetry and Where It was Born

ferry landing, poetry, foggy night, blogs, writing,I was sitting, late one night, at a ferry landing, waiting and watching the boats ferry back and forth until it was my turn to board.  Fog horns, misty fog, reflections on the black water, the screech of the gulls, and the silent hunting of the pelicans.

The wet air, the silence, the sound of a lone fog horn warning vessels of danger.  The fog smearing everything I looked at… I was inspired  to write poetry.  But the scene could have inspired a murder mystery writer to write about a body, weighted down, being slipped into the water;  or it could have inspired a romance writer to write about two lovers parting as the boat docked.  Never to be together again.  For me, it was poetry.  Here is an excerpt of what came out of that black night……..

FOGGY NIGHT  © 

The white orb, saturated with tidal flows 

peers through the veil, 

a ghost ship slips up the fog laden channel

 Night gulls’ sing with strident cries 

fog seeps in, the tide rolls out, 

day is gone, the night creeps on

Trees, dressed in ebony, drift by 

water glistens, gold and wet 

Night is soft and tender, edges blurred 

damp seeps into cloth, hair, bone 

Fog casts tents of light over the landing 

Hunters of the sea know not day nor night 

Fishers all, white feathers stark 

against the night shadows 

Palm trees, silhouetted against the ochre gauze,

brushes hardened with black paint……

I raced home as I had nothing to write with in the car.  Opening my front door, I dropped my keys and purse onto a chair, tore off my coat as I sped down the hall to my studio.  Waking up my computer, my fingers flew across the key board, lest I forget the words that were born in the night.

To read more click here for the books, Butterflies and Bullets and Moths and Machetes
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One Candle Can Light Another

Gary Swindell
1961-2020

One day a good friend called me; Gary was  a very accomplished pianist, guitarist and musical director. He was reading my book of poetry, Butterflies and Bullets. He went on to say that while reading my work he kept hearing music in his head. And could I give him permission to use my poetry for lyrics. What a compliment! He said he was especially taken with, “Hair-cut…Two Bits”, about a down-and-out cellist, gambler and barber in New Orleans.

Gary  had previously written a song based on my play, Scent of Magnolia (Billie Holiday).  The world lost a beautiful musician and friend this past December. 

We artists, regardless of what we do or what we write, should lift each other up whenever or wherever we can.  When I review a book I make certain that my review (if bad) lists helpful and constructive criticism and is never cruel. 

It is my hope that my posts relating to writing helps a new writer begin their journey in writing….and helps experienced writers learn something new. My hope is to light someone else’s candle of creativity.

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My weekly BLOG features INTERVIEWS with  best-selling AUTHORS!    November: Ella Quinn, December: Lauren Willig,
January: Madeline Hunter, February: Mike Lupica 
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PoetrySoup.com honors my Poem

Dear Trisha,

Congratulations, this is just a quick notice to let you know that your poem The Garden is one of the poems being featured on the PoetrySoup home page this week. 

Thanks again and congratulations.

Sincerely,

PoetrySoup

The Garden ©

I wander my garden
the morning sun barely peeking
above the distant hills

dew drops wet my toes
and the damp earth seeps between them
cool and wet

my flowers nod their heads to me
as if to say ‘good morning’
their colors soft and muted without
the rays of the sun to spike their flagrant color
the over-achieving bee dips into the golden nectar

a bird trills a celebration to the new day

from the book of poetry
Moths and Machetes
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My weekly BLOG features INTERVIEWS with  best-selling AUTHORS!    October: George Scott, November: Ella Quinn, December: Lauren Willig, January: Madeline Hunter, February: Mike Lupica 
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Book Review ~~ Haiku Journal

Book Review             D. Donovan, Midwest Book Review 

Haiku Journal acts as both an inspirational collection of diverse haiku by master writers such as Matsuo Basho and Masaoka Shiki and an encouragement for readers to fill in their own blank books with haiku creativity. It pairs lovely black and white drawings with examples of the diversity that can be incorporated into the traditional haiku form.

Where creative writing books might focus on the three-line stanza approach of its poetic structure, Trisha Sugarek provides a deeper interpretation of what makes a haiku piece stand out: “A haiku is a way of looking at the physical world and seeing something deeper, like the very nature of existence. It should leave the reader with a strong feeling or impression. Traditionally the natural world is mentioned.” She also includes works by master poets which didn’t always strictly adhere to the 5/7/5 haiku foundation because “They were too beautiful to ignore and not be included.”

This note advises readers that there is an attention to excellence, here, that goes beyond strict regimentation. Any poem that is uplifting, beautiful, and an example of unique expression is included, such as this: “Well, what must we think of it?/From the sky we came./Now we may go back again./That’s at least one point of view.” –Hôjô Ujimasa

These works appear alongside lined blank pages that encourage readers to become writers through example. The poems are juxtaposed

haiku, poetry, pen and ink art, poems, Japanese haiku,

Haiku Poetry

 with tips on how Sugarek chooses to write, including creative writing and history information that supports various approaches (i.e. producing a complete poem in three sets of three lines, known as Renku).

Sugarek’s own poetry is juxtaposed with verse and free verse from others, adding just the right blend of encouragement and a flavor of diversity to a haiku journal that serves as both an encouragement and an example.

Wannabe haiku writers looking for inspiration could not find a better wellspring of support than in Haiku Journal. Its format and presentation lend to not just inspiration, but creative effort.  Purchase here
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My weekly BLOG features INTERVIEWS with  best-selling AUTHORS!    October: George Scott, November: Ella Quinn, December: Lauren Willig, February: Mike Lupica 
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  On the home page, enter your email address.  Thanks!

 

 

NEW Haiku Journal

Just  published.  A NEW  journal   for  your  Haiku  poetry.  Some  instruction  and  tips  to  help  get  you started.  190  lined,  blank  pages  for  YOUR  poetry. Poetry is  imbedded  in  the  margins  of  the pages  to  inspire  your  writing.

An old silent pond
A frog jumps into the pond,
splash! Silence again.
Matsuo Basho

      morning sun dapples
      trees in a polka-dot dress
      shines soft green and light
           ~ T. Sugarek

 

Light of the moon
Moves west, flowers’ shadows
Creep eastward.
Yosa Buson 

                                                       Black, gnarled branch
                                                         green leaves blush
                                                       droop in autumn rain
                                                              ~ Unknown

angle of fall’s sun
so different from spring’s rays
dapples the sun porch

end of hot summer
the crisp, sharp tang of fall’s breath
smokes the air about

a waiting for sleep
under the blanket of snow
until spring sun beams ~ T. Sugarek

                                               Whether one passes on
                                             or remains is all the same.
                                       That you can take no one with you
                                                is the only difference.

                                                Ah, how pleasant!
                                    Two awakenings and one sleep.

                                  This dream of a fleeing world!
                                 The roseate hues of early dawn!
                                               Tokugawa Ieyasu

Perfect size to fit into backpack, handbag, tote or briefcase. 
Available NOW. Purchase. Click here 
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Poetry featured on PoetrySoup.com

Dear Trisha,

Congratulations, this is just a quick notice to let you know that your poem Remembered Love is one of the poems being featured on the PoetrySoup.com home page this week. 

Thanks again and congratulations.

Sincerely,
PoetrySoup

Remembered Love

Ashes waft over the meadow
a jet stream of sorrow,
beckoning the widow to the
edge, down to the river.

Contented epoch, at the
creek where the wolves run,
he lived and laughed.

We watched the bright blue
stars foxtrot across the milky
way, a midnight indigo quilt
shivering with light.

Mountain men whose
toughened hands cradle their
violin and mouth harp. Music
soared amidst craggy
chiseled countenance.

We listened to the chaste
screech of a hawk, the forlorn
cry of a mountain cat,
soft snuffling of a bear,
watery splash of a fish.

You and I waltzed in the
meadow; no music needed
other than the love song that
pulsed in our hearts.

Can I have this dance for
the rest of my life?
Together it seemed so…

right,
wrong,
simple,
eternal,
joyful,
lonely,
sad…

…happily ever after?

No.

Time enough for us to love,
laugh, share, be silly, fight,
forgive, and cry?
To seethe and despair?
Yes.

 

Copyright © Trisha Sugarek | Year Posted 2014     
Books of poetry:  Butterflies and Bullets  ~~ Moths and Machetes
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How To Write Poetry (Isolation Series)

Poetry is created in much the same way as other genres of writing. Something will trigger my poetic side. It might be a crushed carnation on a hot, asphalt parking lot or the combination of smells from the biting snow air to a bonfire. The call of a wild bird or a memory from childhood. I begin with the first line of the poem. Duh! Perhaps I won’t write the second line for several days. I can’t stress this enough; it’s okay if that happens.
Nothing else in the writer’s world is more from their soul than poetry. Yes, there is structure that should be adhered to (Haiku) (Sestina) but the creation of words should originate from the soul. Flowing like life’s blood from the heart.
I include here other types/forms of poetry and their disciplines. What is the difference between a sonnet and an epigram? A canzone and a narrative? Every poet is attracted to different styles. Why don’t you try one?
All of my poetry is limited to free verse or Haiku and Renku. This is where my soul sings and my heart beats. 
Start with free verse so you are not hindered by strict rules of construction, (see below). 

ABC: A poem that has five lines and creates a mood, picture, or feeling. Lines 1 through 4 are made up of words, phrases or clauses while the first word of each line is in alphabetical order. Line 5 is one sentence long and begins with any letter.
Ballad: A poem that tells a story similar to a folk tale or legend which often has a repeated refrain.
Ballade: Poetry which has three stanzas of seven, eight or ten lines and a shorter final stanza
of four or five. All stanzas end with the same one line refrain.
Blank verse: A poem written in unrhymed iambic pentameter and is often unobtrusive. The iambic pentameter form often resembles the rhythms of speech.
Burlesque: Poetry that treats a serious subject as humor.
Canzone: Medieval Italian lyric style poetry with five or six stanzas and a shorter ending stanza.
Carpe diem: Latin expression that means ‘seize the day.’ Carpe diem poems have a theme of living for today.
Cinquain: Poetry with five lines. Line 1 has one word (the title). Line 2 has two words that describe the title. Line 3 has three words that tell the action. Line 4 has four words that express the feeling, and line 5 has one word which recalls the title.
Couplet: This type of poem is two lines which may be rhymed or unrhymed.
Dramatic monologue: A type of poem which is spoken to a listener.
Elegy: A sad and thoughtful poem about the death of an individual.
Epigram: A very short, ironic and witty poem usually written as a brief couplet or quatrain.
Haiku: A Japanese poem composed of three unrhymed lines of five, seven, and five morae, with three sets. Usually containing a season word.
Horatian ode: Short lyric poem written in two or four-line stanzas, each with its the same metrical pattern, often addressed to a friend and deal with friendship, love and the practice of poetry. It is named after its creator, Horace.
Idyll: Poetry that either depicts a peaceful, idealized country scene or a long poem telling a story about heroes of a bye gone age.
Lay: A long narrative poem, especially one that was sung by medieval minstrels.
Limerick: A short sometimes vulgar, humorous poem consisting of five anapestic lines. Lines 1, 2, and 5 have seven to ten syllables, rhyme and have the same verbal rhythm. The 3rd and 4th lines have five to seven syllables, rhyme and have the same rhythm.
Narrative: A poem that tells a story.
Ode: A lengthy lyric poem typically of a serious or meditative nature and having an elevated style and formal stanza structure.
Pastoral: A poem that depicts rural life in a peaceful, romanticized way.
Quatrain: A stanza or poem consisting of four lines. Lines 2 and 4 must rhyme while having a similar number of syllables.
Rhyme: A rhyming poem has the repetition of the same or similar sounds of two or more words, often at the end of the line.
Rondeau: A lyrical poem of French origin having 10 or 13 lines with two rhymes and with the opening phrase repeated twice as the refrain.
Senryu: A short Japanese style poem, similar to haiku in structure that treats human beings rather than nature: Often in a humorous or satiric way.
Sestina: A poem consisting of six six-line stanzas and a three-line envoy. The end words of the first stanza are repeated in varied order as end words in the other stanzas and also recur in the envoy.
Shakespearean: A 14-line sonnet consisting of three quatrains of abab cdcd efef followed by a couplet, gg. Shakespearean sonnets generally use iambic pentameter.
Sonnet: A lyric poem that consists of 14 lines which usually have one or more conventional rhyme schemes.
Tanka: A Japanese poem of five lines, the first and third composed of five syllables and the other seven.

test

Terza Rima: A type of poetry consisting of 10 or 11 syllable lines arranged in three-line tercets.
Verse: A single metrical line of poetry.

Free verse by yours truly:

Windstill © 

Subtle silence
Windstill
trees await the next
message on the air

Windstill
not a whisper of birdsong
not a leaf-rustle intrudes
it falls
fluttering to the ground

The wind has departed
beyond the next hill
leaving in its wake
Windstill

Will it return? The breeze
dancing amongst the leaves
to the tune of the forest

Shall the still wind haunt
amongst the trees?
or come roaring back, shrieking?
Windstill

Renku

Ruin © (Haiku)

The barn, sad and old
forgotten still standing strong
cob webs in sun beams

recycled boards raped
floor torn away, back bone gone
dust haze dance in light

the barn sad, noble
survives the last season proud
the roof falls, barn death

Did you Miss my Other Isolation Writing Ideas?
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Books by Trisha Sugarek