Words from the Heart

Photo Credit: (c) 2016 Linda M. Rhinehart Neas The finish line is in site.  The 30 Poems in November challenge is at its end.  One more day of poeming and I will be ready to revise my poems, picking one to read at the celebration held at Smith College's Poetry Center in three weeks. Many, many thanks to family and friends who supported my efforts.  I am blessed, as are our students, by your generosity. For those who may wish to give but haven't yet, simply click on this link: 30 Poems in Nov! Linda Neas . Click on Donate Now and follow the directions.   Today's prompt was to write a love poem (my favorite!).  Here is my contribution: ANOTHER DAY  The alarm serenely plays  a gentle calling to awaken.  I roll over, gathered in by your arms.  Snuggling, we begin our daily ritual of life together.  Giggling over silliness,  we rise to greet the morn,  giving thanks for another day to dance  before breakfast;...

Writing a book of poetry is, in many ways, a thankless task.  Yet, we poets continue to write and re-write in order to publish our humble offerings in the hopes that someone somewhere will find them worthy. Poems are a labor of love. My latest book is one such labor of love.  I carried it, like my children, close to my heart for many years before it was ready to be delivered into this world of words and phrases.  Like many labors, it was difficult.  The gestation of this book was longer than I had hoped.  The first poem was written many years ago, when I first contemplated finding my Irish roots. It was the seed from which all others grew.  These poems quickened as we traveled through Ireland and later, after I was home, ruminating over the hundreds of photos I took. Where the Heather Meets the Stone is finally available to the public.  If you purchase it, I hope you will find something within the pages that will touch, inspire, enlighten o...

On this July 4th weekend, I have waxed nostalgic. Thinking of summers past, I decided to share some "summer poems."  Enjoy! Wet Cement   The hellacious heat of summer cooked us  as we sat in the shade of curtained rooms.  The rumblings of thunder could be heard  far away, like an oncoming train that is heard  long before it arrives, rattling into a station.  The air sat heavy on us, except when the fan,  positioned to blow like a zephyr back and forth,  happened to kiss our salt-laden skin.  Suddenly, light exploded outside the window  open to emit the tiniest relief from the building heat.  One by one, they come, loosed from clouds – We peek out the windowed shelter like hunters,  peering through the blind, waiting for the flock to land.  In moments, the streets become alive with the sound of  thousands of tiny fairy feet kissing the scalding concrete. The magic of their dance imme...

Photo Credit: (c) 2014 Linda M. Rhinehart Neas With the feast of St. Patrick quickly approaching and my book on Ireland still "in the works," I decided to share some of the inspired poems from my time in the Emerald Isle.  Nestled in the Ocean     Tectonic plates slammed together,  creating a land of mountains and valleys  so rich, so green that once there  the soul is changed forever.  Glaciers gripped the land,  leaving behind treasures that  still boggle the mind of those  who study the comings and goings  of stones and minerals.  Fifty-three and a smidgen degrees North  Six and a speck degrees West,  surrounded by wild blue ocean,  covered in heather and peat,  my ancestors lay silent,  part of a historic fabric sewn  in blood, sweat, tears and rainbows.  LMRN © 2014     O’Riordan –The King’s Poet When I was half-past six years old,  the wo...

The 30 Poems in November Challenge has begun! My first poem is dedicated to my newest grandchild.  The prompt was to write a "day after" poem, which came from the Poetic Asides website. So many great poets share their work there. The 30 Poems in November Challenge is a fundraiser for the Center for New Americans, at which I teach.  This is a non-profit organization with a mission that " provides the under-served immigrant, refugee and migrant communities of Massachusetts' Pioneer Valley with education and resources to learn English, become involved community members and obtain tools necessary to maintain economic independence and stability. "  If you are interested in supporting my efforts, please visit my Razoo site: https://www.razoo.com/story/Linda-M-Rhinehart-Neas    All donations are tax deductible. Thank you in advance for all your support in whatever form it takes.   ‪ #‎ 30poemsnov‬ 

Another Poem-a-day challenge has begun and I am so excited! First of all, because it means I am challenged to write at least one poem a day and secondly because I have been invited to teach poetry in my granddaughter's class. For those who create, this time of year seems to reawaken the creative powers.  At least, I know this to be true for me.  The thing is, it create during winter, but it isn't the same as creating in the spring. For me, as the first full moon of spring rises, so do all these creative ideas! Poetry, crafts, painting and writing all seem to pour from me.  So, in celebration (and thanksgiving) for being able to create and share those creations, here are two poems.  The first is the poem I wrote for the first day of the Poem-a-day challenge.  The prompt was to write about resistance.  The second is a poem in celebration of teaching children to love poetry.  Enjoy!  Should I -  take advantage of the sun  warming t...

  Reading poetry at Smith College During a very stormy night, approximately 50 people braved the weather to gather at the Smith College Poetry Center.  The occasion was the celebration of the conclusion of the 30 Poems in November fundraiser for the Center for New Americans . Poets from the community, including several young people, faculty of CNA and board members, read their poetry.  Poems by the students of CNA were on display.  The evening was a wonderful celebration of literacy. One of my dear sister/friends donated to the cause in honor of a friend of hers who had become a citizen.  When I read this, I contacted her to offer my thanks. I told her I would write a poem in honor of her friend. She was thrilled, immediately putting the two of us in contact. I had a wonderfully delightful chat with Amelia.  She immigrated to the US from Nicaragua.  She came as a young girl, becoming a citizen as an adult.  Her story touched me in so m...

  Starry Night by Vincent Van Gogh Public Domain - Wikimedia Commons Those that know me well, know that I have loved Vincent Van Gogh since childhood.  As a little girl, I believed that Starry Night was painted for me.  No one could dissuade me of this fact. So as an adult poet/writer, it is not surprising that often my work become entwined with his.  Here are a few examples for your reading pleasure. Alive with Color    Like Vincent, I too am “alive with color.”  With the artist’s eyes,  I see the purple dark,  Brightened by spiraling gold light.  No monochrome existence -  No shade of gray subsistence.  I am a tropical village, alive  With turquoise and salmon,  Buttercup and lilac -  Tones of singing color -  Unafraid of my rainbow palate life,  I paint the world!  Linda M. Rhinehart Neas © 2014  Vincent’s Sky   In a life, long before now,  you ...

Burma Poetry Protest (Photo credit: englishpen ) Over the past month, I have been writing poems to prompts on Poetic Asides.  I realized half way through the month, that some of the poems were speaking of things that I have been holding deep inside.  I guess you could say they are my protest poems. Funny, it wasn't until I read them back that I realized I had several that really hit on issues in education that have been bothering me for a long time.  This, of course, is the beauty of poetry!  Poetry is a means to teach, to heal, to romance, to instruct, to relate and to protest.  In fact, some of the greatest poems are poems of protest - some made into songs or some immortalized in great documents. For example:  Declaration of Independence  by Thomas Jefferson [1743-1826]  We hold these truths to be self-evident:  that all men are created equal,  that they are endowed by their Creator  with certain inalienable r...

There are some things in life that are pure poetry - without the words.  Holding my wee grandson, who was born 5 weeks early was one such moment.   As I greeting this tiny little miracle, the first child of my youngest daughter, he smiled.  He continued to smile as I sang to him.  Needless to say, I was in heaven! In celebration, a wee poem (haiku): Like the winter winds that blow early in the fall, the wee boy arrives    Namasté!

  Autumn in New England There is no place like New England in the autumn.  Poets and writers have captured the essence of the beauty in poems, essays and songs.  Indeed, many of my favorite poems are those written about the woods, trees, flora and fauna of New England. This weekend, I had the delight to go on a road trip up into the hill country of Western Massachusetts with my cousins.  We had a wonderful time discovering covered bridges, waterfalls and great landscapes, all of which will inspire future writings, I am sure. As we walked around the woods, I kept thinking of all the Robert Frost poems that speak of these hills.  I remembered how Thoreau loved them and how Emily Dickinson captured them in her lilting lyrics.  As the wind blew, causing leaves to rain down upon us, I recalled the song, Autumn Leaves.    I guess it is true, what I have been told so many times.  I am a romantic.  I love the sound of babbling ...

Poetry is a form of writing that is best heard from the poet's own voice.  By hearing what a poet says and how he/she says it, we are able to grasp the essence of the poem. This week, I taught myself how to create audio recordings of my poems.  I am so excited, because now I can actually share them with my family and friends as if I were sitting with them.  What fun! In introducing my first recording, it seems appropriate to begin with The Oak and the Maple.  This is a love poem of sorts, speaking of how some people come into our lives for a short time, but leave their mark on our souls forever. Listen to The Oak and the Maple here.   And, for those who wish to read along --   THE OAK AND THE MAPLE   Once upon a time, two trees grew side-by-side in the forest. On one, there grew a sturdy oak leaf and on the other a delicate maple.   As spring warmed to Summer, they grew stretching themselves out to meet the o...