A Poem & A Picture

The Epiphany

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

The epiphany has passed –

now gone are the 12 days of Christmas.

The winter sun is setting low; his colors scattered like coals of fire across the western sky. 

Our souls are satiated and hopeful of the things to come and so we sleep.

And we sleep. 

And we sleep. 

I was just pondering, a thing which I do often these days, while enjoying a glorious Texas sunset and these words came to me.

I think it is the first creative thing I’ve written in… well I don’t know how long.

And now, while sharing this with you all, the vexing lines of William Butler Yeats come to mind.

And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,   

Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

More to ponder no doubt.

Autumn Equinox 2024

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

Summer Adieu

It’s out of the flip-flops, and back in the Reeboks and long pants dug out of the dust

So long to the tank tops, bikinis and cut offs and lawn chairs left lying to rust

Adieu to the sand dune, the pelican and plain loon

My loves, we’ll see you `fore long

Leaves drop as trees swoon, long past the crop moon

With the scent of a sweet autumn song

Let’s all take a big swill to ward off the night chill

Winter’s a season away

Crank up the camp fire; avoid the ole quagmire

With children perched high on the hay.

Poem from Getting Me Back

More about the Autumn Equinox at Farmers Almanac

Hemingway’s Beloved (Friday’s Free for All)

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Torn [first] from the pages of Horror Writer’s Association Poetry Volume 1

DID YOU SHAKE HIS HAND –?
the hand of a man’s man?


Did you see how his eyes searched the space around him as the world grew smaller?


Did you learn the secrets of Africa or discuss his tomes over drinks?


Of course not.


You could not for we were mere children –
our wedding day marking the twenty second anniversary of his exodus… his rise to immortality.


He won the Nobel Prize for Literature the year you were born – did you know that?


I was but two months in the womb when he placed the beloved twelve-gauge inside his mouth and obliterated the ciphering pheasants once and for all.


Did you see how he caressed her?


How her cold, soft metal against his finger was as pacifying as the perfect daiquiri… how she (his beloved) alas cured him of the demons.


In a flash she rooted them loose one by one
from their hiding place – a place liquor nor currents could mole; a cavern so deep no joule or watt could grasp.


Ahh, but she did.


She exorcized them, set them to flight riding on soft grey tissue laden with hemochromatosis and fragments of bone.


Christ might have offered the fiends a swine but not her or better yet not him…


A sacrifice for the Bay of Pigs?


It was all such folly—such unholy madness for a simple man and a literary saint.


*Hemingway’s Beloved was republished in Getting Me Back ( The Voices Within)

Little Man (In Memoriam)

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

Sending love and gratitude on this Memorial Day. I pray you feel it in the wind.


It’s time to go to bed little man

Cover up your head little man

I’ll see you when the sun breaks in the morn.

Say your prayers and close your eyes,

I’ve locked the monsters all outside,

She’d sang those words to him since he was born.

He grew to be a brave young lad

And followed after his ole dad

Beneath a flag of pride his oath was sworn.

They brought him home in silk lined wood,

And all around him soldiers stood,

While Butterfield’s Lullaby played on the horn.

It’s time to go ahead little man,

I know that you weren’t scared little man,

My heart breaks I can’t see you and I mourn.

I’ve said my prayers for your closed eyes, 

I’ve tucked my feelings deep inside… She sang into a folded flag of thorns.

Little Man was taken from Getting Me Back (The Voices Within)

The tears of mother’s could create a flood if they all cried at once.

It’s April 1st and That Means …

/ Janna Hill / 1 Comment

Yep!

Why Poetry (from Getting Me Back)

Because it hurts deeper

Tastes sweeter

It is time to kick off National Poetry Month. #NPM Sooo- let’s get this party started.

Laughs louder

And lets me know I’m alive

The view from my wilderness sanctuary.

Write on!

Listen throughout the month via podcast

Happy Fall Y’all (Summer Adieu)

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

It’s out of the flip-flops and back in the Reeboks

and long pants dug out of the dust

So long to the tank tops, bikinis and cut offs

and lawn chairs left lying to rust

Adieu to the sand dune, the pelican and plain loon

My loves, we’ll see you `fore long

Leaves drop as trees swoon, long past the crop moon

With the scent of a sweet autumn song

Let’s all take a big swill to ward off the night chill

Winter’s a season away

Crank up the camp fire; avoid the ole quagmire

With children perched high on the hay

Poem from Getting Me Back

More about the Autumn Equinox at National Geographic