Poetry Day 23: Pablo Neruda Loosely Translated

 Find a poem in a language you don’t know, and translate it into English based on the look of the words and their sounds.

Neruda Murel

Neruda Mural in Santiago, Chile

Pablo Neruda Translated

My English Transaction 
Treacherous mama rescued
passed the time playing solitaire
a sin that tests, hi ho
to the solders, violent delegates,
heavenly lines, fetching silver.

Poem Spanish
Tequendama, recuerda
solitario paso en las alturas
sin testimonio, hilo
de soloedades, voluntude delgada,
linea celeste, flecha de platino.

Spanish is so beautiful just to look at, I do know some but not enough to really understand or translate. I turned off my brain and just went by appearance of the words, and I didn’t look across to the translated page and I won’t look until after I press publish. I respected the obvious word celeste that must be sky or heaven. I also didn’t want to be too silly because I love and respect Neruda’s work.

Neruda's Home

Neruda’s Home

My Daughter did her Study Abroad in Chile and brought home these photos.

Thanks NaPoWriMo           Happy Writing and Reading!




Enjoy Earth Day with Silly Poetry

Chicken In a Hat

The Chicken In a Hat  that inspired this poem

What Kind of Meal Is That?

Is a chicken in a silly hat

happier than a chicken in a pot

with yucky celery and a stinky carrot?

Let’s pretend she is a Zombi Chicken Gal

She can become our new pal.

It’s plain you see we made her smile

As she dances on the stove

In her hat of purple onions and a garlic clove.

How about we invite her friend from school

The Goat Fish Ghoul?

To make sure there is enough to serve

We’ll mix up some gruel with a Ghost Cat herb

and add, of course, crunchy wing of Vampire Bat.

What kind of meal is that?

Carol Carlisle 4/22/14
Did I leave any creature out?
Please feel free to add your own.
Oh no, I just remembered Godzilla
He Rhymes with???


NaPoWriMo: Today, I challenge you to write a poem for children. I took my cue from Shel Silverstein who knew that children liked anything silly and yucky, the yuckier the better. This was designed to make even the grumpiest grown-up let down their chin and grin :D

Poetry Day 21: An Only In San Francisco Poem

Welcome To The San Francisco Bay Area.

San Francisco

San Francisco Skyline

Not A “New York School” Poem.  These are pieces of conversations that may or may not have taken place around around The San Francisco Bay Area.

If You Listen You Will Be Impressed?

Tech Talk
-Her boyfriend was one of the first programmers at Yelp.
-Our visiting student saw Nathan Blecharczyk in the cross walk at Castro and Market.
-What country is he from? He’s moving to Uberthey need his help.
-The founder of Airbnb.
-Is he Gay?

Family Ties
-My cousin’s friend was a cartoonist for Disney.
-My grandfather is a double cousin of Walt Disney.
-We have some of his drawings.
-His picture is in The Disney Museum.

-We had our reservation at Chez Panisse canceled
because Bill Clinton showed up out of the blue.
-I saw Jimmy Carter on the streets of Katmandu.

Top This
-I teach English to several Tibetan Lamas.
-We saw the Dali Lama at the Greek.
-Last night I heard God speak.
-Did She come to you for English lessons?

Carol Carlisle/ Not saying which voice is mine ;)

Are You Giggling

“New York School” poems display a sort of conversational tone, references to friends and to places in and around New York, humor, inclusion of pop culture, and a sense of the importance of art (visual, poetic, and otherwise).

NaPoWriMo Day 21 Happy Poetering


Poetry Day 20: Hymns My Mother Sang

 The Buzz of Hymn Singing

IMG_0057 - Version 2

The Gate Swings Wide

was the background sound of my childhood.

“the old rugged Cross, the emblem of suffering and shame”

accompanied dish washing and ironing.

If Grandma or Mama were feeling cheerful “What A Friend  we have in Jesus”
might be splashed in with the Palmolive or Tide.

If Daddy had to work too many overnight shift and Mama was feeling blue
the clothes would be pinned on the line with

“I come to the Garden alone while the dew is still on the roses…”

Those sweet words
seemed to be the top tune of Mama’s Gospel Chart
They accompanied everything
from pickle making to floor waxing,
I am still convinced that floors won’t shine as bright
without the buzz of a hymn.

Housework was all my mothers knew
My mother the child of the depression.
My grandmother a true pioneer woman.
she lived in a sod house
road from Colorado
to Arkansas in a covered wagon.

They didn’t need to go to church that often
their own voices provided the

 “blessed assurance”

of love and comfort
” where “gates swing wide”  while
dew is still on the roses” and every garden had

Fifty Miles of Elbow Room

When the gates swing wide on the other side,
Just beyond the sunset sea.
There’ll be room to spare as we enter there.
There’ll be room for you and room for me.
For the gates are wide on the other side,
Where the fairest flowers bloom.
On the right hand and on the left hand,
Fifty miles of elbow room.

Traditional Hymn

Carol Carlisle 4/20/14

NaPoWriMo prompt: Today I challenge you to write a poem in the voice of a member of your family. I instated wrote about the voices of my family.

Happy Easter and Sunday Writing


Sunday Post: Dying Eggs The Color of Dawn

Coloring Eggs In the light

Coloring Eggs In the late afternoon  sunlight as the days grow longer.

Caught in the Act. Who put those ears on me

Caught in the Act. Who put those ears on me?

Eggs are probably our oldest symbol of birth and renewal, reminders of the incredible persistence and variety of life. Dying these elegant packages the colors of dawn we join the spinning Earth bathing in the light of a new day. No matter my age I still thrill at how the once white egg is transformed by a quick swim in a cup of colored water.

Happy Easter, Eostar or Passover.

Jakesprinters offers a lovely animated Easter post including a history lesson.


Poetry Day 19: The Adventures of Captain Shoulderblade Cat



Today’s NaPoWriMo Challenge was to use actual shell names to write a poem…Names in Italics.

The Adventurers of Captain Shoulderblade Sea Cat

Alas, it was before the Gibbous and after the Full

The Incised Moon did rise, and allowed the tidal pull

That Captain Sholderblade Sea Cat used to push free in his woody canoe

to bubble safe with his precious treasures the Lazarus Jewel


Box and Peruvian Hat.  That is when he began his voyage across the Atlantic

Turkey Wings flapping to insure an escape most dramatic.

The Cat must still beware of the Ghastly Miter and Snout Otter Clam

or his arrival home could be unequal bittersweet, if he meets such creatures most satanic.


He willingly carries the heavy bonnet of this great oceanic endeavor

In hopes of wearing the Striped Engina and Tricolor Nisco forever and ever!

We wished him well, as we said farewell to Captain Shoulder Blade Sea Cat,

And prayed he survive the advances of the Shuttlecock Volva most cleaver.


After years and years I heard tell from Sparse Dove and Leather Donax

He had hidden out on Isle de False Cup-and-Sauser

where he contracted a horrible case of Tuberclate Emarginula

Which caused our Cat Captain to grow a Strawberry Tops on his nose,

Triangular Nutmegs between his toes, which goes to show

No good shall come when you start a voyage on the precarious

night of the Incised Moon.

4/19/14 Captain Carol Cat

There were 19 Shells in the list, which I took number of liberties, but I think I included every one. Let me know if I did.
Happy Reading Hope you’re smiling

Peruvian Hat
Snout Otter Clam
Strawberry Top
Incised Moon
Sparse Dove
False Cup-and-Saucer
Leather Donax
Shuttlecock Volva
Striped Engina
Tricolor Niso
Triangular Nutmeg
Shoulderblade Sea Cat
Woody Canoebubble
Ghastly Miter
Heavy Bonnet
Tuberculate Emarginula
Lazarus Jewel Box
Unequal Bittersweet
Atlantic Turkey Wing









Poetry Day 18: A Rubiayat

Rubaiyat of Carol

Each week I carried that small sweet green and gilded book,
To sunday school so like all the other children I would look.
No on notices that the cover read The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam
Truth by any hand is truth and this was my chosen book.

A Child of four or five I couldn’t or wouldn’t read,
You might believe innocence of intention I should plead
Except for the fact that I love its gold and scrolling words
Infused with the scent of leather and fresh ground cardamom seed.

To this day the mysteries of the East I do cherish.
All the people of this Earth have the right to their favorite dish
and favorite song and words that opens their hearts to love and praise.
Respect for all souls paths to paradise is my deepest heartfelt wish.

1/18/2014 Good Friday

So happy be reminded of this tender story of my childhood and to have this opportunity to share the mark it left on me.

Today I challenge you to write a ruba’i. What’s that? Well, it’s a Persian form — multipe stanzas in the ruba’i form are a rubaiyat, as in The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. Basically, a ruba’i is a four-line stanza, with a rhyme scheme of AABA. Robert Frost’s famous poem Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening uses this rhyme scheme. You can write a poem composed of one ruba’i, or try your hand at more, for a rubaiyat.

Photo Challenge: On Top of The World


Andersen on Top  of the World/ Indian Rock

It appears he’s high in the Sierras but Indian Rock is in the middle of Berkeley surrounded by homes. Folks go there to practice rock climbing. Shhh, don’t tell them there are steps.

On TOP of San Francisco

On TOP of San Francisco Bay

A post card to the world from the Vista Point at the North End of the Golden Gate Bridge.


Oriole on TOP of my apple tree. He Owns the World.

Photo Challenge On Top





Day 17 Poetry Makes Sense

Field Notes
Hummingbird dangles
beneath fuchsia’s  
bright parasol.
A jeweled ornament
in the back garden.
Soon gone 
like the dew
in the sun.
Let us taste
this sweet beauty
and sing a short 
song of remembering.
Let us spin
around the back garden
beneath invisible 
whirring wings.
For this is the day
we know why
the Earth spins
and the stars
in the sky!
Carol Carlisle 4/17/14
NaPoWriMo asked me to describe something with attention to the senses . I do believe you can feel this experience along with me, this poem just need to be written today.

Poetry Day 16: Lie To Me

True Lies about the Moomish

Aerial  View of Moomistan

Aerial View of Moomishstan Land

When You Visit the Moomish

Don’t step on the Mooms
They’re all squishy and slippery
They’ll stick on shoes
They’ll turn to blue goo
It smells like fresh poo
Then you must hide in the house
But you don’t have to grouse
At least you are not out
Where everything smells all Moomish

All the Mooms of Moomishtan Land belong to the Queen
Because of their eyes most sparkling and green
When they all blink it is quite a grand scene!

Don’t fooled the Mooms they taste like prime ribs 
Which goes quite well with a french fries  

But all who eat Moom pie
Just fall down and die.
So remember all the good that you may hear
about things most Moomish: Beware
they are shockingly filled with big fat green-eyed lies and a fibs.

Carol Moom

I misspelled Moon in the yesterday’s post  so it reads Prisoner’s Poem: No Moom!  Since then around my house it has become fun playing with who or what Moom might be. So low-and-behold today’s prompt was to  write a poem that each line was a lie so I went to town riffing on Moom and all things Moomish. NaPoWriMo This prompt is from Daisy Fried, and the basic idea is to write a ten-line poem in which each line is a lie. Your lies could be silly, complicated, tricky, or obvious.