Welcome to Four Lines! I have a goal I would like to write at least four lines of poetry or a haiku every day for the rest of my life. I'm excited about this challenge! Also, along with my daily poem, I will be reading at least four lines of another author's poetry. I'll try to include that here also. So I'm thinking - how difficult can it be to read and then write one poem a day? We will see! - Claudia

All poems on this blog, unless noted, are written by Claudia Callaghan.
© 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016 Claudia Callaghan
Used only with permission. Please feel free to join Four Lines and request permission.

Monday, February 23, 2015

He is returning and we try,
we encourage each other to remember
our own words.

What matters, if not that we live
by our own words?
We say to forget yesterday.
Each day is new,
another chance to choose.

I choose I tell them they can fly.
Disabilities are not real
and I believe it.

He is returning and we are learning
the meaning of our words,
what it is to forgive.

Forgiveness is not only to forget.
Forgiveness is to love.
Love sees he is flying.

Love knows he never left.

Sunday, February 22, 2015

This morning don't write upon
the early white sky.
Don't fill in space with yourself,
who you think you are -
like a defending pufferfish,
what you think the day will be -
a bowing down to you.
Let this habit disappear.
White turns blue.
Everything shines in this detailed blur,
including you.

Thursday, February 19, 2015

On a diet and all I can think about is
orange gnocchi from La Grassa.
A path in my brain is lighting up,
dinging like a pinball machine.
Orange gnocchi,
Orange gnocchi.
Orange gnocchi.
Orange gnocchi.
My mind is preoccupied with past thoughts.
Orange gnocchi.
Orange gnocchi.
Orange gnocchi.
Orange gnocchi.
This morning smacking my lips
I hear the alarm while dreaming.
Orange potato pasta silkiness
melting in my mouth
perfect as chocolate ganache.
Orange gnocchi,
like Winnie the Pooh's honey.
Orange gnocchi.
Follow the orange gnocchi!
God is in everything, after all.
Orange gnocchi.
Orange gnocchi.
Orange gnocchi.


Sunday, February 15, 2015

It reached enlightenment,
my cranberry liqueur,
meditating for months,
silently blending,
cranberries, orange rind,
sugar, vanilla bean, vodka,
peace.
Cross-legged in the ebb and flow
of simple, effortless being,
changing into the heart-red
ripeness of a cherry, a ruby,
a given rose,
it is not only liqueur,
like bread is not just bread.
Today it is ready.
I pour yours,
reaching through.
Cheers!