Tag Archives: poem

Summer Love

9 Aug

They met in the summer,
on the south end of Pawleys Island
where the waves slap high-fives
and the north wind runs free.
And on one star-filled night,
while the moon shone bright,
the green marsh fell deeply
in love with the blue sea.

You could feel it everywhere,
their love was swirling in the air.
She loved his blue intensity,
he loved her green positivity.
It was right as the tides,
so it came as no surprise,
when the dashing blue groom,
took the luminous green bride.

For the great wedding feast
came the turtles, from the east
and other privileged guests,
including the egrets from the west.
The mullets came from up north,
a procession of pelicans from down south,
and the blue creek crabs
just popped in, unannounced.

“I will love you when it storms,
and when its sunny, I will rejoice.”
“I will provide a place for you,
I will listen for your voice.”
“And whether the tides are high or low,
no matter how the wind blows,
we will ride it all together
so our precious love grows.”

As long as time will be,
every year on Pawleys,
all shall celebrate the day
the green marsh
married the blue sea.
Because Forever, the blue sea
will run his gentle fingers through her hair.
Forever, the green marsh
will whisper sweet nothings in his ear.
And when only sand and shells remain,
the air will still smell like champagne.

Weddings

Little Things that are actually Big Things

15 Jul

a poem of thanksgiving

shoes to protect my tender feet,
a campfire and its healing heat
a boat, and sail to make it heel
the compass, the sextant, and the wheel

a pen, with all its inky bliss
a big bear hug, a deep French kiss.

spectacles for my weary eyes
journalists, to help me realize
the on/off switch, zeroes and ones
spreadsheets, and balanced sums

big fluffy towels, to lie on hot sand
phone calls from friends, helping hands

the hot water heater, a convertible two-seater,
a syncopated beat, iambic pentameter

a passport, for when I need to roam
a light on, for when I come home
photographs to keep my memories true,
especially my fondest ones of you

slow dancing, with intimate grace,
a blanket, and its warm embrace,
a pillow for my sleepy head
and silence, after all is said.

I wrote this poem around Thanksgiving 2012, just reflecting on things, inventions, contributions to society that I am grateful for. Copyright 2012 Lupe Tucker.

The internet is full of rants. Help tip the balance: today, simply be thankful for something (or someone).

NYC Moma

View from the 4th Floor gallery of the Museum of Modern Art

“Look at your immediate surroundings with a fresh eye ..”

Nantucket

11 Jul

A congregation of clouds,
protective mothers, hover over
stoic buildings, neatly arranged
cobbled into place by time
and if the sun dares to shine
you greet it, with an air of indifference
because the flowers will still burst
jubilantly, from their window boxes.

The sea gives, the sea takes away
Nantucket has weathered it all
and stalwart, it continues
living, breathing history
with arrivals and departures
marking the days, because
in this far away place
nature bats last.

First

5 Jun

It was in a dream
in a low-light room
in a box of matches
from a pocket

It was a rapid friction
a flare of passion
reflected in dark eyes

It was in a dream
I sometimes tell myself
where nothing I touched
could touch me back

It was in my skin
in the evidence of
the scars, the burns,
the scratches

In a crying moment
in a chosen fashion
that a game of arms
struck like matches

in the beating heart
of a dream
pleasure & pain
are the same muscle.

Sparks

Sparks

I wrote this poem in 1993. I was taking an Environmental Science class in college and it was so boring, and so long, that I would write poetry to help myself stay awake. It was inspired by a friend, and I was trying to write a poem from his perspective. This poem was originally published in the Garnet & Black Quarterly, 1994. Copyright Lupita Eyde.

Daily Prompt – Sensitive

Oxford Blues

3 Jun

A poem about my Dad.

You had a closet full of English Leather.
A smell I still remember,
because when I was sixteen,
I would raid your collection
of blue oxford shirts,
hanging, starched and cleaned.

Allen Solly, Brooks Bros., et al
were my favorite uniform.
To my mother’s chagrin,
I refused to conform
to the current fashions
and teenage norms.

When I was sixteen,
your hand-me-down shirts
were way too big for me,
but I aspired to grow into them,
eventually.

I still do.

Image

Mil y uno

3 Jun

Mil conversaciones
con mil sentidos,
mil esperanzas
con mil suspiros,
Sin contar las
mil miradas
con mil anhelos,
mil jugadas,
mil duelos.

Mil horas
esperando.
Mil dias
sin verano.
Hay mil formas
de olvidar,
pero mil formas más
de recordar.

Yo te juro:
con solo una palabra
mil campanas
suenan en mi alma,
y mil millas-
mil millas
no son nada.

This is my very first complete poem written in Spanish. Lots of influences coming into play here. Thank you Miss Aurea Perez  and Mrs. Miriam Torranzos, two wonderful teachers who shared their love of poetry with their students, and enriched my life in the process.

Mil campanas suenan en mi corazón.

Mil campanas suenan en mi corazón. Butterflies, by Enrique Tábara, photographed at the Hilton Colon hotel in Guayaquil, Ecuador

Circumspice!

17 May

Tree limbs reaching to the sky.
Children laughing-out carbon dioxide.
Birds singing the leaves awake,
who, in turn, make oxygen for our sake.
Ants working diligently,
Grass releasing dew,
Clouds gathering patiently,
Sunshine bathing us, anew.
Bees dancing from flower to flower,
A slight breeze sowing the seeds;
This cathedral of invisible motion
is all my soul needs.

Testimonium ad infinitum.
Circumspice!

Gardenia by Lupe Eyde-Tucker

Look around, there is evidence everywhere.

What does nature mean to you?

Ultra Marine

29 Apr

Once upon a time I spent 10 days on a sailboat in the ocean, sailing north. The blue water has been calling me back ever since.

Ultramarine Gulf Stream
liquid conveyor belt, carry my dreams
let me skip along your surface
don’t let me get too deep

Each periwinkle morning
turns to a turquoise blanket of hope
entreating us to sail boldly
past the continental slope

And in the afternoon
a bluefin tuna of iridescent azure
is plucked from the waters
with a silver spoon lure

Sir, we royally salute you
and your noble fate
served up, shimmering,
upon a sapphire plate

Herculean cerulean
yet effortlessly triumphant
we scan for the next horizon
to grasp the earth’s circumference

until we rest our heads
under a diamond indigo shawl
the blue will fuel our reveries-
sailors, explorers, dreamers, all.

Ultramarine is the color of the Gulf Stream.

Ultramarine is the color of the Gulf Stream.

Check out the blog “A Life Nomadik” – a living example of my poem.

Beach Nap

27 Apr

The terry cloth
has got my back.
Salt air fills my nose.
The children play in stereo sound.
Waves crash from ear to ear
in the background.
Parts of my skin
feel warmer than others.
The fresh breeze mitigates the burn.
The words dance before me,
and are all topsy-turvy
on the page
I have no strength to turn.
My eyelids feel heavy,
my arms go slack,
as I slip,
I surrender,
to the inevitable
beach nap.

image

Children running on the beach.

In the Kitchen

22 Apr

You were in the kitchen
and I was upstairs

I could hear you clanging
mixing and sizzling

opening and closing
the fridge, but

what made me
the happiest girl

were the garlic and onions
wafting up the staircase

promising dinner
to my nose

who promptly whispered it
to my stomach

as I finished my homework
on the old Smith Corona

you bought me
at a yard sale

for two dollars
all of which

made me feel
incredibly warm and loved.

Mom

Mom & I