1. Authors name: Idle Mind Wondering
3. Genre of poetry: Freeverse
(though, I like to push the boundaries
of old school restriction and form)
4. Collaborations:
Pamela A Lamppa http://allpoetry.com/poem/3445186
delightfulmess http://allpoetry.com/poem/3652758http://allpoetry.com/poem/3332338
http://allpoetry.com/poem/3321294
Tattboyspet http://allpoetry.com/poem/3781243
And, presently,
I am working on one with markgrif
5. How many other round contests have you entered:
Several, I am holding one
and particapating in three at the moment (not counting this one)
and only once have I backed out.
6. How often are you on AllPoetry:
Daily
7. who has been your inspiration to write:
Tolkien
Plath
Frost
8. Your likes: Finding the perfect set of words;
the ones where imagery, emotion
and understanding collide with intent. The same can be said about color and contrast.
9. Your dislikes: In the world: Mean people.
On Allpoerty: Unqualified and/or partial judges –
critics who need to hear
the sound of there own voice.
10. Why are you auditioning:
To be challenged beyond my comfort zone.
I Am The Artist
I am two and I have a secret.
I am five and if I close my eyes
I am not really here.
I am ten and I hate you.
I am fifteen and I don’t care.
I am twenty-two
and scared;
so scared.
I’m thirty,
finally, I understand what it means to breathe;
to tell the truth as people beside me
find acceptance and I experience freedom.
I stop burning pages of poetry.
At forty-three,
I look thirty and feel sixty;( ( I like looking thirty 
)
I have a well in depth of memory
and a universe of imagination
that guides my pen, heart and soul.
The hills are stacked with city houses,
above and below,
as the road disappears through a tunnel.
Sound diminishes within hushed echoes.
It seems so much more
than a couple of years
since decidedly standing
upon the on-ramp of escapement
from small-town views.
Now reaching the end
of this highway’s promise.
<~>
She was old
and called Tennessee
her home;
I was new
on the road to nowhere.
She picked me up out of the night
and we drove on;
Her beauty was beyond me
like a best friend’s mother.
She was watching my shy glances
as we talked away the miles;
until her eyes held mine
and a confident hand
touched me.
Somewhere on the side
of a Pennsylvanian road
I forgot all about the
high school girls.
<~>
What impresses me the most
is the limitless diversity of people
and their eager willingness
to befriend a stranger;
if a stranger is willing to be a friend.
<~>
Trees fall hard on the edge
of the Rockies;
at least for the new kid,
only three days in logger’s camp comrade.
But a skidder rolled today,
tomorrow we’ll bury a veteran
and I feel like I’ve known these people
my whole life.
<~>
Cultural and geographical changes
are superficial;
in the end we really are
all the same.
<~>
Backpack in tow
I climbed aboard
with a simple man
who spent hours
trying to sell me the Bible.
Carefully, I listened,
because every soul has a story to tell.
He dropped me off
at love’s doorstep
in the Pacific Northwest.
I became a second rate cook
for a lousy waitress -
barely out of high school.
She was exotic
with eyes to mesmerize
And I became the fool,
a puppet waiting for strings.
But boy,
could that girl dance,
may the bus boy
have the best of luck.
<~>
I could go home now
if I thought I might belong.
But the road only goes one way.
It’s not very far, but long enough
and as day light heralds the tunnels end
I am granted a view of virgin landscape.
A vast valley
without a single man-made-structure
and I am tempted to believe
that this is all undiscovered;
if not for the road running through it.
She is my world
Image by Pamela A Lamppa
may she always smile.
Adding your comment:
. The best poem was a wonderful one and your reason for taking up the challenge is admirable.
