Saturday, April 30, 2011
DAY 30 - PA FINAL PROMPT- "AFTER I LEAVE HERE" FINAL DAY POEM-A-DAY APRIL CHALLENGE - POEM 1. BALLOONS WILL FOREVER FLOAT
Balloons Will Forever Float
After leaving here no looking back there
The flowers will stay until thrown away
Balloons will float to the ceiling and stick
The covers will be neatly folded back
Soft stuffed animals placed into the trash
Today - Flowers will celebrate us two
Balloon bouquets tied to your bassinet
Tiny bear, yellow duck, flop-eared plush pup
Pastel covers shield signed papers from view
After leaving you here no looking back
After leaving here no looking back there
The flowers will stay until thrown away
Balloons will float to the ceiling and stick
The covers will be neatly folded back
Soft stuffed animals placed into the trash
Today - Flowers will celebrate us two
Balloon bouquets tied to your bassinet
Tiny bear, yellow duck, flop-eared plush pup
Pastel covers shield signed papers from view
After leaving you here no looking back
Friday, April 29, 2011
DAY 29 - PA PROMPT ODE - 5 ODES
POEM 1. Ode To A Street
Cobblestones pavers
Gentle underfoot sheened
Whispering lyrical loveliness
Through from earliest dawnAll the night through
Someone, somewhere stirs
For a stroll
Under bowers of word petals
Because there is no beginning or end
I honor The Street both teeming and serenely still
************************************************************************
POEM 2. A TWEAKED ODE TO OBSESSIVE YET SINCERE THANKING....AKA ODE TO PA AND PA'ERs
A World Without Poetic Asides Fondly Called By Some The Street
Would Be a World Emptied of Images, Rhythms, and Poets to Greet
There would be no Robert Lee Brewer
Our fearless leader whose pens through
A “Strep Throat"
No Walt writing of “A World Without Poetry”
“There would be no beauty if poetry was not…” it would come to an end
No De Jackson writing “Sans” of “Hearts that won’t mend…”
There would not be Sam Nielson’s humor as in “Without Wind” writing how “There are those who say – I am like an unwanted wind”…
There would be no Chev or Jerry either – no words of “The World Without Dandelions”
no indented lines that showed wishes floating away
No Gloria Bostic… who pen no poems about the sons never born
Nor Mariya Koleva – musing on “The world without its center?”
No Kit Cooley - no “Bee-less” images of flowers blossom
No PKP and “Dr. Kulachs’ Piano Recital”
No musings of Michael Grove penning on “Hate No More” or “peace …that rise from oceans floor.
No chuckle poetic flirtation between Daniel and De who would not have “this prompt so…promptly
No De Jackson and her wide range – no “Poof” …(abracadabra) Wave of wand, ..All gone.
No Mike M. pondering a still life “Without Storms
No Marie Elena’ s sweet membership in the commentary team that have gotten many including this poem to return and boosted esteem
No souls would be held as Gloria’s father
No M.A. Dobson writing “The World Without Sleep…” in the throes on insomnia vividly
There would be no Autumn N. Hall’s unique twist removing the “E”
No Anders Byland … and his wonderful search instrument nor his knowledge” about why the cage bird” does sing
No Zeb with his enthusiasm playfully “Imagining a World without Z”
No Linda M. Rhinehart Neas no “ The World without PAD”
Nor Maxi Steer or “The World Without Slime”
No Patricia Hawkenson with a range from the celestial to “The World without Casseroles
nor “curry” nor mush…
No Michele (Banana) penning “Hopeless” “as things are calmer now…”
No Walt imagining a world “Without Gravity”
Gone Joseph Harker – and his “Sonnet For Peak Fuels”
No Walt continuing on – no “WHERE HAVE YOU GONE, JOE DiMAGGIO recalling an era’s jewels.
No Katie Dixon and her “Ambrosia" no “from the night on the rising steam.”
No Dare Gaither, no “Poison Ivy” Without TemptationNor Shannon Lockhard sweet “Temptation”
No Rose Anna Hines and her piercing “ A World Without Taste”
No Marie Elena and “These Things I can Do Without” from “brussels sprout to falling out” they would not exist absolutely no doubt.
No Janet Rice Carnahan how could that be? No “WORLD WITHOUT ANTS” and all her commentary
No Ivanius just come me to know …none of her poems “No Blanks” how would that go?
No meeting of Jane Schlensky and “The World Without You” a richness of images what would we do?
No Mike Maher and his multiple attempts of the day as “The World Wihout Something Else” whatever could one say?
No Pamela Murray Winters waxing on “In a world without clouds”
In a world without clouds
No Beth Rodgers as the world falls silent in “The World Without Music”
Nor Elizabeth Johnson in “Without dogs”
No Linda Voit taking up no cause because there’d be none and so no “Without Labels Taking the Lead” and no Lois S.
No Joe writing actively of “Monotony”
No Nancy Posey no prompts, no “World Without Weather”
No Margaret Van Pelt sweetly combining “Strep Throat” and kisses
No Catherine Lee who this year has come and then “No World Without Rhythm… what a vacuum
No Bruce contemplating “less terrifying” “A World without Tornadoes”
No Connie Peters imagining “A World Without Flowers”
No J.D. MacKenzie “Without a Place to Call Our Own”
No Richard-Merlin Atwater or “A World Without Love”
No Justine Hemmestad “with no reason for expression” in “A World Without Passion”
No Kim King who could not leave “The World Without Poetry”
No Mike Bayles in a “World Without Music”
No Karen Legg to wittily imagine what “A World without Will”
No Nikki Markle who I can never read without hearing my favorite poetic word sparkle – no “Starless Shadorma”
No Taylor Graham – no lush language of “Fleas”
No Gil Gallager – no Stephen King of PA no today “Without Sky”
No Rob Halpin pointing to the perils of our “PAPERLESS SOCIETY”No Rachel Green would e’er be seen and no “One Demon Less”
Nor Marian Ververka in “A World without Music”
No Andrew Kreider and no “The World Without His Genius” a place of far less caffeinated flash and fun.
No Autumn Hall nor “A World without Proselytizing”
No Katreylu Angus no one to write a poem of a world “WITHOUT ANIMAL RIGHTS ACTIVISTS”
Nor Mbschied in “a world without whining”
No Dheepika – No passionate poem no “ A Surrogate Mother”
No M. Wood – none of his intellect no “Without” speaking of “Books molder on shelves.”
Nor Chimnese and therefore “ No World Without Homophobia”
No J. Lynn giving tribute to the tornado victims “Home” …falling-…into the center
of the earth.”
No Michele Hed and no “Blue” oh how sad that would be if she were not here, true
No P. Wanken creating an empty reality without her “Without You”
No prolific Walt .. and so no giggle at “NO UNDERWEAR”
No LBC and then No “World Without Sound
Nor Sara V? how could that be no “Staunching the Flow”
No Marcia Gaye finding a poem by James Gaye Jr. thinking on “The World Without Dress Codes” and how that all might be
No Sheree Rabe to think “On Utopia”
No Arielle Lancaster-LaBrea! This “new-to-me” voice of brilliance no today of “Without that morning at your house”
Nor Heiberg and never “INTO ACROBATICS” having me smiling still
No Barbara Young no “world without walls…”
No Lori Thatcher penning “A World without Us”
Nor Joseph Beckman who can write a poem “Sans Inspiration” which of course inspires
No Hannah Gosselin no fairies, creatures, and such things as “A World Without Marshes”
No RJ Clarken and her unique take. No “World Without Sticky Notes”
No “meeting” Domino and no “The World Without Lies”
No Mariel Dumas – No “Projection-less World”No Miskmask- and then no “A World Without Arthritis”
No ACD and as it would be no “Without Fear”
No Nina B Lanctot and none of “THE WORLD WITHOUT AGENCY”
Nor Joe or “A World Without Lovers”
No Kyhaara or a “World Without Chocolate”
No Daniel Ari’s 3 “Without Judgment"
Nor Angel V and a “World Without Sin”
No “meeting” for me Andrea Boltwood and never reading terrific “A World Without Onomatopoeia”
No Sara McNulty! “No World Without Your Smile”
No De Jackson – hard to imagine the shrinking of scope no “Bumble”
No Ideurmyer and therefore no “Gripers and Complainers”
Running out of steam and want to be sure to include everyone I read this last April PAD night
No Ann No “I heard the black crows” a voice that finds the light in the dark
No Annie McWilliams. No “at the edge of the world”
No Genevieve Fitzgerald. “No World Without Words”
No Benjamin Thomas . No “A Dog-less World”
No, Amy Barlow Liberatore!! No Advocacy! As in tonight’s “No Gay Men” how would that be?
No Salvatore Buttaci –No “Worlds Will Grow Silent” ????
No Michael Grove – such kind words directed to me no “family” or “my baby, baseball..”
No “meeting” PSC in Ct wonderful poems and commentary No “The World Without Goodbye”
No Jacqueline Hallenbeck sensitive as all heck. No “World without gossip”
No Sandra Robinson – new to me on PA street – No “World Without Sports”
No Buddha Moskowitz – no lists – no scintillating lines? “No Color TV”
No Melissa Rossetti Folini one of the most beautiful names on this street.No Karen Phillips – coupling of lines and images in her own style
Nor Jo Lightfoot – a distinctive voice that lingers on
No Cameron Steele – remember shedding a tear
No Judy Rodney – a wonderful blog site and great visiting there
No Rose Anna Hines – tender heart, writing of difficult times
Nor Kendall A Bell – No “Imagining a world without hippies”
No John Pupo – No “Stevie Nicks” who I distinctly remember someone no being able to sleep til she found
No Robin Morris – new I do believe welcome and sound
No A.C. Leming and not tonight’s “The Last Straw”And finally in the way of all mortal beings hard to imagine especially on tonight the beginning of a special day that there would be no PKP's
World Without From Here To Eternity
A world without the crashing waves
Of Lancaster 's from Here to Eternity
would have left this April baby
with a different paternity
I mis-estimated the time this might take and looking at the clock see that I’m in the process of an all-nighter to take which would be my pleasure which would be my joy to somehow even for only myself to synthesize the month into the now … but today is a day that others want to celebrate and so I must leave as Janet might call this pearl necklace for it is late. I thought that I’d say much more witty and light as I begun that this street would be emptied, cold and deprived of much light, if even one single voice here was not heard, read, created into a post, a time of community, of sharing of dedication and perhaps a kind of collective like-minded poetic love most…Whoops ... Here's to NINA AND GEORGINA who perhaps
Because you somewhat rhyme stayed floating together in mind's predawn foggy mistAnd as I drifted and realized where were you on that PA LIST!
So this was last night's ODE TO PA rough iPad dear compatriots in poeming...as the night turned to day and at my own erodes I was groaning ...as a complete tribute a testament inevitably I must have failed although I tried... To any slips of mind but not affection or admiration I apologize and thank you for sharing with me and allowing me the place to share with you!
****************************************************************
POEM 3. Ode to creativity
To that flotsam and
Skittering glittering scatter
To the skin creeping draw
To all that seems profoundly to matter
To the forms and the styles that
To to the glitter falling try to contain
To the surrender to falling
As particles join into shape
To that which comes from
No one truly knows where
Ode and honor some say the same
To the coalescence of the spark to the sparkle
Shining-Shared
*******************************************
POEM 3. Ode to An Ode
Perhaps the first remembered bit of poetry
was an Urn that was odes for all us to see
That idea might not have been great
For all these years later late
Not too much about odes committed to memory .....
*******************************************************
POEM 4. Ode to a Feline
An ode is a celebratory homage
Traditionally respectful, solemn all that
Most decidedly the subject would exclude
That of a cat...
**********************************
POEM 5. Ode to an Ode
A form both austere and someMight say -antiquated in your hpristine way
And yet
And yet
To you dear ancient ode
Fare-the-well shall I never bode
To you dear venerable through ages strong
For you dear ode to honor by mastery I still long
Long live the Ode!
***********************************
Thursday, April 28, 2011
DAY 28. PA PROMPT - WORLD WITHOUT - POEM 2. The World Without War
The World Without War
No body bags
Or flags draped
And folded just so
No proud seminal moments
Of current horrors
Survived into the now
So they become the long ago
Too easy to say this dictator
Or Fascist or Terrorist monster would rule
For truth would be if the world without war
No war for any ideological school
No body bags
Or flags draped
And folded just so
No proud seminal moments
Of current horrors
Survived into the now
So they become the long ago
Too easy to say this dictator
Or Fascist or Terrorist monster would rule
For truth would be if the world without war
No war for any ideological school
DAY 28. PA PROMPT " A World Without.." - POEM 1. - Without Dr. Kulachs' Piano Recital
Without this recital who knows what might have come to be
The etiology of a "pianist's" drama follows immediately:
~
She was sixteen when finally
She got a seen-better-days-upright
For her birthday
She had wanted to play with a
Passion burnt since age three
The upright could have been the grandest Steinway
Found Dr. Kulachs Viennese teacher
In a small studio above the place where they sold pizza
He had a metronome a chair, silver mustache and thick accent
And understood serious classical music her bent
You will not play a single recognizable line for ten years
You will play scales and exercises, You understand there will be no tears
With a commitment only a fervent sixteen year old can make
She begins and with full heart and three daily hours of practice did lessons take
For three weeks and came on a day quite cold
Sat at the metronome and he stopped her with her name written in bold
In a program for first years
A piano recital on January to be
Play a single line of a Brahms lullabye would she
This was not their contract the others were six
She was respectful but pleaded do not humiliate me in this mix
The programs were printed the line she would learn her name there printed in bold
"She would not disrespect him". he would not accept this said he icy cold
He gave her the line simple , she told her family they were not to attend, no tickets sold
At the school that evening she sat a young woman with breasts
Amongst tiny talented kindergarteners all by proud mommy's very best dressed
Finally after the little ones went one then another again and again her name on the page
It was called and-stun stumbled to the center of that vicious floor creaking stage
Took a deep breath it was one line only, this she could do
And on the third note hit it wrong,and clamorously too
And at that moment precisely was through
She stood calmly there with a heart drained pounding and wan
Walked to the front of the stage offered apologies said she could not go on
Turned and walked quickly trying to find the opening curtain
The exit would be there of that she was certain
It was not and she wandered in nightmare rush
Until eventually found a door to the outside to push
She did not see. Dr. Kulachs until a woman with a babe if her own
Met at the produce section when she returned home for a visit all grown
"Do you play?" he asked her holding onto his cart
She just shook her head as she thought, No not really, just scales, although still in my heart
"It was my mistake you were all children to me
I did not notice the serious young woman, I did not see"
In the bright light of the market in that flourescented aisle
Her heart filled with music as they hard-teared embraced in duet crescendoed smile
PKP aka Pearl Ketover Prilik
The etiology of a "pianist's" drama follows immediately:
~
She was sixteen when finally
She got a seen-better-days-upright
For her birthday
She had wanted to play with a
Passion burnt since age three
The upright could have been the grandest Steinway
Found Dr. Kulachs Viennese teacher
In a small studio above the place where they sold pizza
He had a metronome a chair, silver mustache and thick accent
And understood serious classical music her bent
You will not play a single recognizable line for ten years
You will play scales and exercises, You understand there will be no tears
With a commitment only a fervent sixteen year old can make
She begins and with full heart and three daily hours of practice did lessons take
For three weeks and came on a day quite cold
Sat at the metronome and he stopped her with her name written in bold
In a program for first years
A piano recital on January to be
Play a single line of a Brahms lullabye would she
This was not their contract the others were six
She was respectful but pleaded do not humiliate me in this mix
The programs were printed the line she would learn her name there printed in bold
"She would not disrespect him". he would not accept this said he icy cold
He gave her the line simple , she told her family they were not to attend, no tickets sold
At the school that evening she sat a young woman with breasts
Amongst tiny talented kindergarteners all by proud mommy's very best dressed
Finally after the little ones went one then another again and again her name on the page
It was called and-stun stumbled to the center of that vicious floor creaking stage
Took a deep breath it was one line only, this she could do
And on the third note hit it wrong,and clamorously too
And at that moment precisely was through
She stood calmly there with a heart drained pounding and wan
Walked to the front of the stage offered apologies said she could not go on
Turned and walked quickly trying to find the opening curtain
The exit would be there of that she was certain
It was not and she wandered in nightmare rush
Until eventually found a door to the outside to push
She did not see. Dr. Kulachs until a woman with a babe if her own
Met at the produce section when she returned home for a visit all grown
"Do you play?" he asked her holding onto his cart
She just shook her head as she thought, No not really, just scales, although still in my heart
"It was my mistake you were all children to me
I did not notice the serious young woman, I did not see"
In the bright light of the market in that flourescented aisle
Her heart filled with music as they hard-teared embraced in duet crescendoed smile
PKP aka Pearl Ketover Prilik
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
DAY 27. - POEM 10.
There once was a November NaNo would-be poet novelist
whose fingers flew on her keyboard between being an analyst
up the stairs from her office she'd run
to complete a few poems and a word count that morning begun
stopped at the door to a tiny meow to find a co-writer fluff ball of fun
DAY 27. - POEM 9. - In the Pouring of the Flow
There has been talk of the "flow"
of writing, thinking, acting in
a motion that has no stop only go
where time takes on a different beat
and little thought or agitation greet
in the pouring of the flow
when to stop is impossible to know
DAY 27. - POEM 11. - In The Gloaming of the April-Poem-A-Day-Challenge
In the golden-gloaming-winding-down-days of April PAD
there is an inclination for me to become gree-a-dy
to take up space in this haven-ish place
with fingers typing at a frantic-flash pace
As though spilling words from this head equalled quality
DAY 27.- POEM 10. - In The Joined Luck of Feral Kitten Meeting NanoWriMo/Analyst on the Run
whose fingers flew on her keyboard between being an analyst
up the stairs from her office she'd run
to complete a few poems and a word count that morning begun
stopped at the door to a tiny meow to find a co-writer fluff ball of fun
DAY 27. POEM 8. - In the Split of Pants
In that split of pants
spills...
a decade of teasing
a one-time joke
a life-time of shame
a non-event elbow poke
it all depends
it all depends
DAY 27. POEM 7. - In the Quiet of a Pre-dawn Morning
In the quiet of a pre-dawn morning
There is a special quiet
in that not so silent night
filled with breath and dreams
and things that have not yet
gone bump
DAY 27. - POEM 6. - In Friends of Friends
In friends of friends
lurks those dropped and forgotten
In seasoned grievance
lurks those dropped and forgotten
In seasoned grievance
DAY 27 - POEM 5. - In the center of the cookie
White sugar creamed filling
Taunting the tongue come hitherTo season "Bets-Off"
DAY 27. POEM 4. In the Middle of Your Hate
Wednesday, April 27, 2011 3:33:41 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
In the Middle of your Hate
From bottom up, your chin
Has a few hairs trembling
As you yell
From bottom up
On you I can only see
your far-off shoulder swell
Your nails look shiny painted-
with-his-blood-bright-red
Your fists on thighs
Rest clenched, huge knuckles
Close to my head
In your sputtering, shouted, love shuttered, animosity
You have forgotten the you and he, you and she
That became that me,
that is still
me
in the middle of your hate
In the Middle of your Hate
From bottom up, your chin
Has a few hairs trembling
As you yell
From bottom up
On you I can only see
your far-off shoulder swell
Your nails look shiny painted-
with-his-blood-bright-red
Your fists on thighs
Rest clenched, huge knuckles
Close to my head
In your sputtering, shouted, love shuttered, animosity
You have forgotten the you and he, you and she
That became that me,
that is still
me
in the middle of your hate
DAY 27. POEM 3. In the Middle With You
In the Middle With You
Wish it were so
Wonderful if it were true
If I could stay stuck with you
Wish it were so
Wonderful if it were true
If I could stay stuck with you
DAY 27-POEM 2.In the Middle of the Aisle
Wednesday, April 27, 2011 3:24:31 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
In the Middle of the Aisle
Wedding march plays on
She grips the paternal crisp
Suited arm
And simply stops
In the Middle of the Aisle
Wedding march plays on
She grips the paternal crisp
Suited arm
And simply stops
DAY 27-PA PROMPT-In the BLANK of BLANK-POEM 1. In The Middle of the Street
In the Middle of the Street
Cobblestones wet with fresh dew
In distance behind glisten
Ahead blurred on mists of
not-yet-set
Here in the middle of the street
Sun golden
Shoulders showered in white petals
Blowing in the still warm breeze
Here in the middle of the street
Cobblestones wet with fresh dew
In distance behind glisten
Ahead blurred on mists of
not-yet-set
Here in the middle of the street
Sun golden
Shoulders showered in white petals
Blowing in the still warm breeze
Here in the middle of the street
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
DAY 26- POEM 7. Strike Up the Band
Here we go and here we come
marching from four corners there
our leader carrying that four legged chair
Banging, clanging, singing proud and loud
Trumpets blasting in the air
Our leader carrying that four-legged chair
In a circle jiggling, wriggling, stomping fun
Forgetting why or where we have begun
Until someone finally shouts in the air
Why does that person have a chair?
And in the way we've come to know
The chair is handed to that person and
on we go
In the march from here to there
With only one four-legged chair
marching from four corners there
our leader carrying that four legged chair
Banging, clanging, singing proud and loud
Trumpets blasting in the air
Our leader carrying that four-legged chair
In a circle jiggling, wriggling, stomping fun
Forgetting why or where we have begun
Until someone finally shouts in the air
Why does that person have a chair?
And in the way we've come to know
The chair is handed to that person and
on we go
In the march from here to there
With only one four-legged chair
DAY 26 - POEM 5. Dance
Dance
The only man
that I could follow
no matter what the
dance - was the first man in my world
who held my pajamaed
bottom against his tuxedoed
chest, my bath wet curls resting
on his sweet cologned neck
as around the living room we whirled
The only man
that I could follow
no matter what the
dance - was the first man in my world
who held my pajamaed
bottom against his tuxedoed
chest, my bath wet curls resting
on his sweet cologned neck
as around the living room we whirled
DAY 26- POEM 4. Pledge of Allegiance
I pledged allegiance to the flag
My hand upon my chest
and worried in grades one through three
where my right hand would go
when I finally grew my awaited breast
My hand upon my chest
and worried in grades one through three
where my right hand would go
when I finally grew my awaited breast
DAY 26- POEM 3. I'll Show You Mine if You Show Me Yours
Here we go said he to me
Behind that leafy banyan tree
I'll show you mine
Here right now you'll see
Hmmm I've seen my Dad and
brothers three
Not sure what you might offer
differently
Now maybe mine you have not yet to see
But you will not in front or behind
this banyan tree
So pick up your trousers from your knee
Before your bum is bit by that circling chubby bee
Behind that leafy banyan tree
I'll show you mine
Here right now you'll see
Hmmm I've seen my Dad and
brothers three
Not sure what you might offer
differently
Now maybe mine you have not yet to see
But you will not in front or behind
this banyan tree
So pick up your trousers from your knee
Before your bum is bit by that circling chubby bee
POEM 2. First Grade
Paper card clutched in eager hand
reading the words, that hot June final Friday
"she is a natural born leader" they did say
Read and birthed a "follower" of all rule
A good little girl in love with a loving school
Voracious to read those same "leader" words another day
Learned to scope out the teacher eye and learn his or her "game"
Before to the class or perhaps even to the teacher "it" even had a name
"Leader, leader, leader" in years two
and then on and on and on years tumbled through
Watching the eyes, the tilt of a head,
the smile of approval an addict led
From that original well-intentioned
neatly written "leader" writ on paper lined
a hyper-vigilant follower only seeming to lead - defined
reading the words, that hot June final Friday
"she is a natural born leader" they did say
Read and birthed a "follower" of all rule
A good little girl in love with a loving school
Voracious to read those same "leader" words another day
Learned to scope out the teacher eye and learn his or her "game"
Before to the class or perhaps even to the teacher "it" even had a name
"Leader, leader, leader" in years two
and then on and on and on years tumbled through
Watching the eyes, the tilt of a head,
the smile of approval an addict led
From that original well-intentioned
neatly written "leader" writ on paper lined
a hyper-vigilant follower only seeming to lead - defined
DAY 26- PA PROMPT LEADER/ FOLLOWER -POEM 1. Neither
Neither follower nor leader be
Listen to the shifts of paradigms
Cracking the box and see what you shall see
Listen to the shifts of paradigms
Cracking the box and see what you shall see
Monday, April 25, 2011
DAY 25-PA PROMPT FALLING -POEM 7. The Falling
Tossing as a filly
Pawing at the gate
She throws her mane
In his direction
Mindful of the hairpins
Pulling her sacrificial scalp
Pawing at the gate
She throws her mane
In his direction
Mindful of the hairpins
Pulling her sacrificial scalp
POEM 6. All Fall
All Fell
For a moment
Return to melt
One onto another
In giddy loose limbed
Abandon
United
In one tickled tone
All fall down
For a moment
Return to melt
One onto another
In giddy loose limbed
Abandon
United
In one tickled tone
All fall down
Poem 5. Failing Falling
Failing Falling
She thought she could skate
Until they told her she was
Failing at falling
She thought she could skate
Until they told her she was
Failing at falling
DAY -25-POEM 4. -Into Arms of Nitrous Oxide
Into The Arms of Nitrous Oxide
Head back breathe in
Float into the sweet embrace
Where drills are rushing rivers
And burnt bone, crackling fireplace
Breathe in the floating
The hand on cheek suddenly
Softly sensuous as the
River runs and the fire perfumes
The air of most precious intimacy
He with his arm in your opened mouth
You, eyes closed drifting deeper
Into the sweet embrace
PKP aka Pearl Ketover Prilik
Head back breathe in
Float into the sweet embrace
Where drills are rushing rivers
And burnt bone, crackling fireplace
Breathe in the floating
The hand on cheek suddenly
Softly sensuous as the
River runs and the fire perfumes
The air of most precious intimacy
He with his arm in your opened mouth
You, eyes closed drifting deeper
Into the sweet embrace
PKP aka Pearl Ketover Prilik
DAY 25- POEM 3. In The Twinkling-
In The Twinkling
High above the twinkled twirls
Of breathless children eyes wide
She walks soft pink shoes on
The white rope solely tulle
Fluttering with the quiet
Calm of folding
Butterfly flicker
High above the twinkled twirls
One delicate doe ankle crosses
Again and then again
Tulle catching the light
As breathless children eyes
Silent but for the first
Piercing scream of the
First child to see a perfect
Pink toe about to step
Onto the air
High above the twinkled twirls
Of breathless children eyes wide
She walks soft pink shoes on
The white rope solely tulle
Fluttering with the quiet
Calm of folding
Butterfly flicker
High above the twinkled twirls
One delicate doe ankle crosses
Again and then again
Tulle catching the light
As breathless children eyes
Silent but for the first
Piercing scream of the
First child to see a perfect
Pink toe about to step
Onto the air
DAY 25-PA PROMPT-FALLING-POEM 2.-FEAR OF FALLING
Fear of falling
She is ninety and they keep repeating "oh quite spry"
Bends easily o,er her electric blue Nikes
Tightly to tie
Along the boardwalk
Others bike and run
She walked proud
Until this fear
This fear begun
So strange to fear
To fear at all
The fall she took just last week
That now out of family sight has
Her treading meek
Buying new sneakers
Bending to tie
Reminding herself
"pick up your feet"
"don't shuffle"
So annoyed at this new
Frail old shuffling woman
She'd like to spit in her own
Fear wide eye
She is ninety and they keep repeating "oh quite spry"
Bends easily o,er her electric blue Nikes
Tightly to tie
Along the boardwalk
Others bike and run
She walked proud
Until this fear
This fear begun
So strange to fear
To fear at all
The fall she took just last week
That now out of family sight has
Her treading meek
Buying new sneakers
Bending to tie
Reminding herself
"pick up your feet"
"don't shuffle"
So annoyed at this new
Frail old shuffling woman
She'd like to spit in her own
Fear wide eye
DAY 25-PA PROMPT-FALL-POEM 1.- The Fall
The Fall
Whispered in dappled
Days of long ago
Leaves rustled above
As long lean
Muscular legs flexed and grew
Ran within strong safe
Boundaried solid edges
Toward a horizonless tomorrow
Here a loss, there a dimpled
Despair, an edge crumble
Until in an incomprehensible
Instant almost nothing
Remains here in the wisp
Of frightened
Filaments of fear
Wavering shaky legged in the finite
Marginalization of the unmisty
Ultimate
Final
Fall
Whispering of days long ago
Invisible to those of strong
Legs running
Whispered in dappled
Days of long ago
Leaves rustled above
As long lean
Muscular legs flexed and grew
Ran within strong safe
Boundaried solid edges
Toward a horizonless tomorrow
Here a loss, there a dimpled
Despair, an edge crumble
Until in an incomprehensible
Instant almost nothing
Remains here in the wisp
Of frightened
Filaments of fear
Wavering shaky legged in the finite
Marginalization of the unmisty
Ultimate
Final
Fall
Whispering of days long ago
Invisible to those of strong
Legs running
Sunday, April 24, 2011
DAY 24 -PA PROMPT -A "PRAYER"- POEM 1. An Agnostic's Prayer
Wouldn't it be nice
If in this fathomless stratosphere
There actually was a Universal Consciousness
Sparking, Sparkling, Sentiently, Sensitively, Simply, There
If in this fathomless stratosphere
There actually was a Universal Consciousness
Sparking, Sparkling, Sentiently, Sensitively, Simply, There
DAY 24 -POEM BIG TENT PROMPT -ESCAPE -POEM 1. Return to Eversun
Slipping the bonds
Of feared hum-drum
The weighty chains of
Mediocrity, breathe
Deeply, eyes loosely
Shut against the
Here and drift
To the there of that
Turquoised island
Of that never setting
ribboned horizon free
Youth sparkled ever sun
Of feared hum-drum
The weighty chains of
Mediocrity, breathe
Deeply, eyes loosely
Shut against the
Here and drift
To the there of that
Turquoised island
Of that never setting
ribboned horizon free
Youth sparkled ever sun
Saturday, April 23, 2011
DAY 23-PA PROMPT -QUIT-POEM 3. -Quit Pecking Those Peeps
You think that no one can see you there
You think no one will notice or even care
That no one the indentations will even know
Match precisely your tiny fingers sugar sticky in bright peepy yellow-oh
You think no one will notice or even care
That no one the indentations will even know
Match precisely your tiny fingers sugar sticky in bright peepy yellow-oh
DAY 23 -PA PROMPT -QUIT-POEM 2. -QUIT FIXATING
Warning political/sexual content parodied.......
Quit Fixating
There are too many people around heah
Who are fixated on the President's birth year
With so much to do
And to get us all through
I am confident that before he did run
Before all this had begun
Others certified the respected US State of Maternal Vaginah
Quit Fixating
There are too many people around heah
Who are fixated on the President's birth year
With so much to do
And to get us all through
I am confident that before he did run
Before all this had begun
Others certified the respected US State of Maternal Vaginah
DAY 23 -PA PROMPT-QUIT-POEM 1- QUIT BELLY-ACHING
Quit.....
All brittle complaints
Desist every fallacious
guarded hate-filled illuminates
Juggle kindlessness laments
March never on pillaged-pavements
Quiet roads-instead surrender-you
there-before under vastly-view
Wander xanadued yammerless Zenith-graced in- peace-so-true
Quit your belly-aching-and love from a-z
Poem Happily!
All brittle complaints
Desist every fallacious
guarded hate-filled illuminates
Juggle kindlessness laments
March never on pillaged-pavements
Quiet roads-instead surrender-you
there-before under vastly-view
Wander xanadued yammerless Zenith-graced in- peace-so-true
Quit your belly-aching-and love from a-z
Poem Happily!
Friday, April 22, 2011
DAY 22 - PA PROMPT- ONE OF A KIND - POEM 4. - Mean Kids
No one is like you
Not at all
There is no sense looking
Behind us up and down
the hall
No one is like you
Do you not understand ?
You will never be like us
Will never carry a football
Across a touch down line
Will never wear a new outfit and feel fine
No one is like you
Do you not see
That you are hideously
One of a kind
And shunned and bullied
Your destiny
Not at all
There is no sense looking
Behind us up and down
the hall
No one is like you
Do you not understand ?
You will never be like us
Will never carry a football
Across a touch down line
Will never wear a new outfit and feel fine
No one is like you
Do you not see
That you are hideously
One of a kind
And shunned and bullied
Your destiny
DAY 22 -PA PROMPT - ONE OF A KIND - POEM 3. - Papa - Not A Looking Sort Of Guy
One of a kind Papa Jack
Never looked at another woman's front or her back
Until once on a tropic porch chair
A young lady walked by quite bare
And Papa Jack, chair and all, fell to the ground with a smack
Never looked at another woman's front or her back
Until once on a tropic porch chair
A young lady walked by quite bare
And Papa Jack, chair and all, fell to the ground with a smack
DAY 21 - PA PROMPT - ONE OF A KIND - POEM 2.- One of a Kind that Dear Boy
One of of a kind was he, softly she thought
That dear loving boy so harshly up brought
Had been shouted and screamed
For a child senseless it seemed
Understood as her lip split as in his fist caught
That dear loving boy so harshly up brought
Had been shouted and screamed
For a child senseless it seemed
Understood as her lip split as in his fist caught
DAY 22-PA PROMPT - ONE OF A KIND - POEM 1. - PAPA'S POSTMAN
Up the stairs
He would spryly come
Mail in hand
Smile on face
Stop! To him, shouted Papa
Let ME read MY mail
But he'd tell
Before you could see
What written
There for you
Electric bill or bright post-card
From missing Unk Lou
It was fun
It was very sweet
Comical
Giggle mire
Until the day he brought tears
Unsealed gaping wire
He folded
onto red brick step
head in hands
first to see
Death's announced delivery
no one wished to be
( mhmmmm not sure a shadorma can join a quartet,,,)
He would spryly come
Mail in hand
Smile on face
Stop! To him, shouted Papa
Let ME read MY mail
But he'd tell
Before you could see
What written
There for you
Electric bill or bright post-card
From missing Unk Lou
It was fun
It was very sweet
Comical
Giggle mire
Until the day he brought tears
Unsealed gaping wire
He folded
onto red brick step
head in hands
first to see
Death's announced delivery
no one wished to be
( mhmmmm not sure a shadorma can join a quartet,,,)
DAY 21 - PA PROMPT "SECOND THOUGHTS " - POEM 1. - In The Heated Hallway - There Went the Bride
Twenty in Alencon sharp edged bright white lace
Standing air in claustrophobic alcove
Father primping flop sweat off his black brow
Fan stilled above floats an omen shouting
Silent screams of impending disaster
In Alencon bright white lace jabbing skin
Pricking memory of broken teacups thrown
There in the eyes in the gilt edged mirror
Faded blue to yellow under long sleeves
In the heated hallway marches forward
Standing air in claustrophobic alcove
Father primping flop sweat off his black brow
Fan stilled above floats an omen shouting
Silent screams of impending disaster
In Alencon bright white lace jabbing skin
Pricking memory of broken teacups thrown
There in the eyes in the gilt edged mirror
Faded blue to yellow under long sleeves
In the heated hallway marches forward
DAY 21 - PA PROMPT "SECOND THOUGHTS " - POEM 2. - On Kaitlin - Murdered-Four-Year-Old
No second thoughts play
at the child in mud leafed sprawl
Spring awakening
at the child in mud leafed sprawl
Spring awakening
DAY 21 - PA PROMPT "SECOND THOUGHTS " -POEM 3. - If The Door Had Been Locked
if the door had been latched above plump fingers
reach, never opened to the calling breeze
never followed the summer scented air
to the incomprehensible beyond
never run barefoot o'er emerald grass
to the piney darkened woods awaiting
never to the open arms vile embrace
if the door had been latched above plump fingers
never silenced soiled-stuffed laughter frozen
never found thawed fresh drifting in this spring
reach, never opened to the calling breeze
never followed the summer scented air
to the incomprehensible beyond
never run barefoot o'er emerald grass
to the piney darkened woods awaiting
never to the open arms vile embrace
if the door had been latched above plump fingers
never silenced soiled-stuffed laughter frozen
never found thawed fresh drifting in this spring
DAY 21 - PA PROMPT "SECOND THOUGHTS " -POEM 4. -Second Thoughts
One-one thousand
Two-one thousand
Three-one thousand
Holding plastic stick
In hand baby thoughts
Bounce off bathroom
tiles to a future
With or
Without
Two-one thousand
Three-one thousand
Holding plastic stick
In hand baby thoughts
Bounce off bathroom
tiles to a future
With or
Without
DAY 21 - PA PROMPT "SECOND THOUGHTS " -POEM 5. - If He Passed On Coffee
That morning crisp
and by now blue cliche
if he passed on coffee
cream and sugar
took it black
where might he lay
and by now blue cliche
if he passed on coffee
cream and sugar
took it black
where might he lay
DAY 21 - PA PROMPT "SECOND THOUGHTS " - POEM 6. - Walk Away
If the would-be questioning bride
standing at her father's side
turned and ran as fast as she then could
never later able to birth a child she would
standing at her father's side
turned and ran as fast as she then could
never later able to birth a child she would
DAY 21 - PA PROMPT "SECOND THOUGHTS " - POEM 7. - Hickory Dickory Dock
Hickory dickory dock
all running to a clock
racing here and puffing there
as though it all matters getting where?
all running to a clock
racing here and puffing there
as though it all matters getting where?
DAY 21 - PA PROMPT "SECOND THOUGHTS " - POEM 8. - My Dog Spike
My dog Spike
would have run along side my bike
on fields of green
alone unseen
untouched and safe
on my bike
with my dog Spike
Instead of my dog Fluff
stuck inside a room of white
where she and I hid out of sight
And read and did not get out enough
would have run along side my bike
on fields of green
alone unseen
untouched and safe
on my bike
with my dog Spike
Instead of my dog Fluff
stuck inside a room of white
where she and I hid out of sight
And read and did not get out enough
Labels:
Day 21- My dog Spike
DAY 21 - PA PROMPT "SECOND THOUGHTS " - POEM 9. - If They Said We Simply Can't!
If the mad-man was treated as he such
And no one listened very much
But let him rant
Until all simply said "we can't" forseeing the inevitable followed cost
Six million would never have been, cargoed, killed and lost
If the mad-man was treated as he such
And no one listened very much
And no one listened very much
But let him rant
Until all simply said "we can't" forseeing the inevitable followed cost
Six million would never have been, cargoed, killed and lost
If the mad-man was treated as he such
And no one listened very much
DAY 21 - PA PROMPT "SECOND THOUGHTS " - POEM 10. - Aye
The raised hand
in the room where
decisons are irrevocably made
the second
thought
in the room where
decisons are irrevocably made
the second
thought
Labels:
Day 21 - poem Aye
DAY 21 - PA PROMPT "SECOND THOUGHTS " - POEM 11. - Several Hundred Poems
Neatly stored in folders
Computerized in labelled files
Even in a blog
Fingers fly on keyboard
Not much good, but easily
Lead to wonder .... Why?
Computerized in labelled files
Even in a blog
Fingers fly on keyboard
Not much good, but easily
Lead to wonder .... Why?
Labels:
Day 21- several hundred poems
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
DAY 20 PAD CHALLENGE PA PROMPT COURTESY OF NANCY POSEY. -POEM 1 ..SUN STRUCK ( this one's for you Nancy P.)
DEAR NANCY
Here on this sandy beach
Hidden from all grabby reach
Know you will understand if this you find
Leave me here and never mind!
SUN STRUCK
To whoever finds the note
To Nancy Posey writ
Wanted you to know I realize how
unlikely would be her finding it
Even more unlikely now I know
that you kind reader would find
not only one note but two
an indication of sun on the mind
Here on this sandy beach
Hidden from all grabby reach
Know you will understand if this you find
Leave me here and never mind!
SUN STRUCK
To whoever finds the note
To Nancy Posey writ
Wanted you to know I realize how
unlikely would be her finding it
Even more unlikely now I know
that you kind reader would find
not only one note but two
an indication of sun on the mind
DAY. 20 -PA PROMPT - MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE - POEM 2. HELP NEEDED NOT EXPECTED
Written here in this strong black life-proofed ink
Joy in the blackness on this page now white
Seal this bottle, with a ribbon to my ankle tie
From this bridge jump, sink from sight
and die...
Good-Bye
Joy in the blackness on this page now white
Seal this bottle, with a ribbon to my ankle tie
From this bridge jump, sink from sight
and die...
Good-Bye
DAY. 20 PA PROMPT - MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE - POEM 3 -TAKE NOTE & POEM 4-REMEMBER
TAKE NOTE
Here back of closet shelf
Paper stained with alcohol
The final vow proofed
~
REMEMBER
Recall and hold fast to all
that flushed your faced and
quickened your heart
that had you pause in
awe struck wonderment
that had you throw off your shoes
and dance in bare feet - even once
on the sandy shores
of receding time
Here back of closet shelf
Paper stained with alcohol
The final vow proofed
~
REMEMBER
Recall and hold fast to all
that flushed your faced and
quickened your heart
that had you pause in
awe struck wonderment
that had you throw off your shoes
and dance in bare feet - even once
on the sandy shores
of receding time
DAY 20 PA PROMPT -MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE -POEM 4 - APOLOGIES
Wednesday, April 20, 2011 3:42:30 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Apologies
I realized when I rolled
The paper carefully
With all written so precisely
Each word pain stakingly chosen for posterity
For beauty,
For Muse-icality
Writ in perfect penmanship
I realized as I rolled
The finished paper
That the bottle
This only bottle
Finally found
Was cracked
And listened as
The Muse laughed
And I in frustration
Threw it anyway
Into the rolling sea
Away
Apologies
I realized when I rolled
The paper carefully
With all written so precisely
Each word pain stakingly chosen for posterity
For beauty,
For Muse-icality
Writ in perfect penmanship
I realized as I rolled
The finished paper
That the bottle
This only bottle
Finally found
Was cracked
And listened as
The Muse laughed
And I in frustration
Threw it anyway
Into the rolling sea
Away
Labels:
PA Prompt - Message In A Bottle
DAY 19 PA TWO FOR TUESDAY PROMPT -LOVE/ANTI-LOVE - POEM -LOVE STICKS
Love Sticks
A sharp steel duckie headed safety pin
Pushed hard through the plastic diaper
Into your day old skin
Three decades later I feel the pain....
Unlove - Does Not Feel
A hand placed where
it does not ever belong
Tears that
Only annoy
Even decades later....
A sharp steel duckie headed safety pin
Pushed hard through the plastic diaper
Into your day old skin
Three decades later I feel the pain....
Unlove - Does Not Feel
A hand placed where
it does not ever belong
Tears that
Only annoy
Even decades later....
DAY. 18 PA PROMPT-LIKE .......-POEM 1. LIKE A VIRGIN
Innocent of all things
Physical and ephemeral
Expectant, tremulous,
Waiting for the
Right one..
Labels:
Day 18 Like A Virgin
Sunday, April 17, 2011
DAY 17 - PA PROMPT - BIG PICTURE - POEM 5. Big Picture - Little Girl
Take each day as a given gift
Drawn to share something in case he soon was dead
It is not guaranteed
Perhaps not the most reassuring
Intonement, perhaps not a three- year-old's
Life creed
Yet held in strong young arms
Black hair gleaming on his head
Drawn to share something in case he soon was dead
Showed me grains of sand and
Vast sky and rolling sea
Comforted by the grandness
By the beauty of the small
Of the interconnectedness of the tapestry
shimmering of each, in every, that is the Universal All
Take each day awake as a gift he said
Look at the sand, the sea, the sky
Each creature, flower petal, each leaf
Shimmer-whispering rustling in each tree
And, if I should soon leave and go,
You will find me there and everywhere
All is there for you to feel and come differently to know
Although you might as you know me, not see
I will be where all things living are, this I tell you so
Where all does shift, and merge one into the other
In the big picture, moving in the wind, seas, sky and very air
continuing in the ever flowing show
( will edit later....just a thought )
DAY 17 – PA PROMPT – BIG PICTURE - POEM 4. The Big Picture
About ten feet across
For all at the table
Leonardo painted
that last Seder supper
Passover, Palm Sunday
Could be joint celebrations
If not for an unpretty portrait
Painted for political purpose
Passed around and down
Through Inquisitions
To ovens
To less catastrophic castigation
Leonardo painted
That supper that
Might have been a supper last
But not a rendering
Of manipulated guilt
Purposefully misplaced
In that magnificent canvas
That could have been
Symbol of room enough
For all at the table
DAY 17 – PA PROMPT – BIG PICTURE- POEM 2. – In The Big Picture
In the huge shifting
Living canvas
The grandest is
But a single drop
Of color
DAY 17 – PA PROMPT – BIG PICTURE – POEM 1. - From Out There
From beyond out there
Things may not be as grimly
Self- involved as here
Things may not be as grimly
Self- involved as here
Labels:
Day 17 - PA Prompt Big Picture -
Saturday, April 16, 2011
DAY 16 PA PROMPT -SNAPSHOT POEM 4. - In Front Of the Piano - First Snapshot as a Family
In Front Of The Piano - First Snapshot as a Family
One curly haired dimpled nine year old boy, serious face watching the ceiling
One tiny girl espresso hair sleek as a wet baby otter, eyes sparkling
Both holding trailing ribbons tied to a dozen giant helium balloons, arched into a
Floating rainbow chuppa, bouncing inches above the top of each parent's head
The children dressed in their holiday best, the girl in a party dress, the boy in a jacket
As they wished
The rabbi wears jeans with ironed creases, a blue shirt and tie
The bride and groom white shirted, hers pure silk opened two buttons
His school teacher Oxford cotton rolled to the forearm
Her jeans ride low on slim hips, as do his, she on tiptoe in soft heeled boots, he in new Fryes
Snow falls outside the living room window
Shirts stretch as they soul seal kiss their vows, shining bands lighting their fingers
His and Hers German Shepherd dogs sit straight, ears up, eyes bright in the flash of the
Photo snapped by the older boy who did not want to be in the picture
~
POEM 3 - TWO SNAPSHOTS ONE DOUBLE FRAME
Two Snapshots In One Double Frame
Baby boy at breast
Flushed faced
One dimple showing
Eyes looking up
to the face
outside
the shot
Tall grown man at front of Capitol
High colored
One dimple showing
Eyes looking straight ahead
to the face
outside
the shot
Side by side in a double frame
Time passed - minimal needed to refocus
One curly haired dimpled nine year old boy, serious face watching the ceiling
One tiny girl espresso hair sleek as a wet baby otter, eyes sparkling
Both holding trailing ribbons tied to a dozen giant helium balloons, arched into a
Floating rainbow chuppa, bouncing inches above the top of each parent's head
The children dressed in their holiday best, the girl in a party dress, the boy in a jacket
As they wished
The rabbi wears jeans with ironed creases, a blue shirt and tie
The bride and groom white shirted, hers pure silk opened two buttons
His school teacher Oxford cotton rolled to the forearm
Her jeans ride low on slim hips, as do his, she on tiptoe in soft heeled boots, he in new Fryes
Snow falls outside the living room window
Shirts stretch as they soul seal kiss their vows, shining bands lighting their fingers
His and Hers German Shepherd dogs sit straight, ears up, eyes bright in the flash of the
Photo snapped by the older boy who did not want to be in the picture
~
POEM 3 - TWO SNAPSHOTS ONE DOUBLE FRAME
Two Snapshots In One Double Frame
Baby boy at breast
Flushed faced
One dimple showing
Eyes looking up
to the face
outside
the shot
Tall grown man at front of Capitol
High colored
One dimple showing
Eyes looking straight ahead
to the face
outside
the shot
Side by side in a double frame
Time passed - minimal needed to refocus
DAY 16 - PA Prompt Snapshot - Poem 2 - Graduation Day
Graduation Day
Black hair
Flopped on forehead
Flannel faded soft shirt
ripped
Over thin
jeans outlining
Maleness
Ropy veins
On the back of
Big hands
One on the base
Of her spine
Massaging, hidden
The other hanging open
Heavily on her graduation
White sun-dressed shoulder
Smirking, possessively for
Her daddy's camera
Black hair
Flopped on forehead
Flannel faded soft shirt
ripped
Over thin
jeans outlining
Maleness
Ropy veins
On the back of
Big hands
One on the base
Of her spine
Massaging, hidden
The other hanging open
Heavily on her graduation
White sun-dressed shoulder
Smirking, possessively for
Her daddy's camera
DAY 16 PA PROMPT - SNAPSHOT - Poem 1. Moment in the Sun
Moment In The Sun
Arched back
Lifted on lithe
arms
Hair brushes sand
Small waisted
Tight
Thighs to
Feet fingering
Sugared shore
Ribs ripple
Under full high
Breasts soft
On pulsing heart
In turquoise water's
Sun soaked time
Arched back
Lifted on lithe
arms
Hair brushes sand
Small waisted
Tight
Thighs to
Feet fingering
Sugared shore
Ribs ripple
Under full high
Breasts soft
On pulsing heart
In turquoise water's
Sun soaked time
DAY 15 - POEM 2- PKP
PKP -
Mother asked
"Why do you have
to analyze everything?"
So
she
became
an
analyst
to have
an irrefutable
albeit
smart-
mouthed
reponse
Which
of course
needed
to
be
analyzed
Poeming
just transcribing
the words
in the rhythyms
there since nine
Prosing
organizing
synthesizing
the flotsam floating
ever, always freely
in mind
Relaxation in the
release
************
Proverbial
Kinetic
Poet
(see I really don't know where
these things come from.. A reader
for the first time of my own words)
Mother asked
"Why do you have
to analyze everything?"
So
she
became
an
analyst
to have
an irrefutable
albeit
smart-
mouthed
reponse
Which
of course
needed
to
be
analyzed
Poeming
just transcribing
the words
in the rhythyms
there since nine
Prosing
organizing
synthesizing
the flotsam floating
ever, always freely
in mind
Relaxation in the
release
************
Proverbial
Kinetic
Poet
(see I really don't know where
these things come from.. A reader
for the first time of my own words)
Labels:
PA PROMPT -Profile-PKP
DAY 15 PA PROMPT - PROFILE -POEM 1 - Profile of an AKAer
This is one where it might be fun
To be concrete and have a physical likeness done
But this will not happen....
Just no way, so I will simply let it lay
That including all my names is a mouthful to say
To be concrete and have a physical likeness done
But this will not happen....
Just no way, so I will simply let it lay
That including all my names is a mouthful to say
Thursday, April 14, 2011
DAY 14 - PROMPT -"AIN'T" MY BUSINESS - POEM 7 - Ain't My Business
Actor's lives in the sun
Beehive hairdos you think are fun
Caramels surreptitiously sucked before you eat
Dogs that you are enthralled to greet
Earrings in three, or five lined holes
Fingering quietly your benign moles
Galloping on an invisible steed at four
Handling canned goods in the store
Inching to a window to watch the rain patter
Jiggling joggers stumbling scatter
Kitten neighbors well fed tumbled patter
Lanterns on a summer's night
Mittens worn out in plain sight
New careers begun, tried, and changed
Oranges in fruit stores pyramadically arranged
Passed unread classroom notes
Queenly monarchy for whom none did vote
Relay races, lovers of a boat
Secret smiles when one is alone
Terns swooping seeking a picnic bone
Useless memorabilia stored
Vacation photos even when mildly bored
Wandering guitarists should they appear
Xylophones accompanying those guitars clear
Yellow parking lot lines faded paint
Zen poses, all above and more, because my business they simply ain't
Beehive hairdos you think are fun
Caramels surreptitiously sucked before you eat
Dogs that you are enthralled to greet
Earrings in three, or five lined holes
Fingering quietly your benign moles
Galloping on an invisible steed at four
Handling canned goods in the store
Inching to a window to watch the rain patter
Jiggling joggers stumbling scatter
Kitten neighbors well fed tumbled patter
Lanterns on a summer's night
Mittens worn out in plain sight
New careers begun, tried, and changed
Oranges in fruit stores pyramadically arranged
Passed unread classroom notes
Queenly monarchy for whom none did vote
Relay races, lovers of a boat
Secret smiles when one is alone
Terns swooping seeking a picnic bone
Useless memorabilia stored
Vacation photos even when mildly bored
Wandering guitarists should they appear
Xylophones accompanying those guitars clear
Yellow parking lot lines faded paint
Zen poses, all above and more, because my business they simply ain't
POEM 5 - The Way of the Cat
Not my business
Sir or Madam
If your plate is bare
As long as my wastes
Are properly disposed
My dishes filled and clean
As long as you keep my
Environment as it should be
Pleasantly serene
Not my business if your fortune
Falls, if your plate is blankly bare
As long as you have time to
Meet my needs
I frankly do not care
Sir or Madam
If your plate is bare
As long as my wastes
Are properly disposed
My dishes filled and clean
As long as you keep my
Environment as it should be
Pleasantly serene
Not my business if your fortune
Falls, if your plate is blankly bare
As long as you have time to
Meet my needs
I frankly do not care
POEM 4 - Definitely Not My Business
If you want your hair bright green
If you wear a purple velvet hat
If you cross your legs this way
Or that
Not my business
Where you live
Or how or to whom
Your money you give
Or how you vote
Or if and where you pray
Or who you choose to love
And live and make your way
If you wear a purple velvet hat
If you cross your legs this way
Or that
Not my business
Where you live
Or how or to whom
Your money you give
Or how you vote
Or if and where you pray
Or who you choose to love
And live and make your way
POEM 3 - What Is My Business?
Am I my brother's keeper?
Asked someone long long ago
Am I?
Am I?
Some say yes
In all ways
Am I?
Am I?
Others no
Which way
To go?
Asked someone long long ago
Am I?
Am I?
Some say yes
In all ways
Am I?
Am I?
Others no
Which way
To go?
POEM 2 - Ain't My Business
Is not my business
that here in this started spring
written "ain't" as though no big ting
that here in this started spring
written "ain't" as though no big ting
DAY 14 - PA PROMPT - AIN'T MY BUSINESS
POEM 1 - Not My "Bidness
Let them pull up their
Bootstraps
Not my bidness
If their feet are bare
Let some phenomena clean
the water, land and air
Not my bidness
If toxic waste floats here and there
Let each child his or her parents
Responsibility be
Not my bidness
All that I choose not to see
Someone else's
Bidness be
Let them pull up their
Bootstraps
Not my bidness
If their feet are bare
Let some phenomena clean
the water, land and air
Not my bidness
If toxic waste floats here and there
Let each child his or her parents
Responsibility be
Not my bidness
All that I choose not to see
Someone else's
Bidness be
Labels:
PA Prompt - Not My Bidness
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
DAY 13 PROMPT - RELATIONSHIP POEMS
DAY. 12 PROMPT - RELATIONSHIP POEMS
POEM 1. To Big Matt. ( in response to editor Robert Lee Brewer's poem Big Matt)
He dropped Robert on his head
Eight times he said
And just look perhaps
Where all that head dropping
Led!
POEM 2. My Dog Pal
Pal was half terrier and half bull
His face half white, half brown
He was the cutest pup
But as he grew squared t-shaped
Pugilist
He snarled, he snapped
He would have hissed
He slept in my girlhood bed
And would growl if awake I took up
Too much space, but if asleep
He left me alone my dreams peacefully
To face
No, he was not the most pleasant guy
And aging did not his personality improve
As chaperone he was a fifteen pound DeNiro
Growling inside the front door at my side, giving would be
Lothario's a shove
It was long ago, this ungentle guy snarled, snapped and would have hissed
Yet, it was he, who never ripped my throat, who is still sorely missed
POEM 3. The butcher's son-in- law
The butchers son- in- law
Was tall, black haired, blue eyed
Leading man stunning handsome
His apron was a startling blinding white
Each button neatly done
His name was Seymour and
At four it became a thrilling name
He'd lean over the high high counter
A piece of salami in his hand
And though I detested the garlicy treat
From him it was a gift unparalleled and grand
The butcher told my mother that
He thought Seymour was a no good bum
I did not care what any thought of him
To me, he was as good a man could come
POEM 4. Kindergarten Ruthie
I had waited for school to begin
For as long as I could recall
On tip toe turned the brassy knob
Found my unexpected all- on- my- own discovered friend
Ruthie, standing by light spilling windows
Ruthie, a little girl, quite tall
POEM 5. Azalea Baby
Waited that time
Until all was certain
butterfly wings
Fluttered
And then
Crimson pouring
Into the bright cold
Room where you
Trapped in your tube
Stopped
Wild child
Exploring inner
Worlds you lost
Your way
And stuck
Fluttered forever
Away
Leaving behind
Your wings
Under my heart
Forever four months
POEM 6. Azalea Baby .... Part 2
Wheeled past
Bundles full
An azalea plant
In my lap
Out the door
Without you
Ever
POEM 1. To Big Matt. ( in response to editor Robert Lee Brewer's poem Big Matt)
He dropped Robert on his head
Eight times he said
And just look perhaps
Where all that head dropping
Led!
POEM 2. My Dog Pal
Pal was half terrier and half bull
His face half white, half brown
He was the cutest pup
But as he grew squared t-shaped
Pugilist
He snarled, he snapped
He would have hissed
He slept in my girlhood bed
And would growl if awake I took up
Too much space, but if asleep
He left me alone my dreams peacefully
To face
No, he was not the most pleasant guy
And aging did not his personality improve
As chaperone he was a fifteen pound DeNiro
Growling inside the front door at my side, giving would be
Lothario's a shove
It was long ago, this ungentle guy snarled, snapped and would have hissed
Yet, it was he, who never ripped my throat, who is still sorely missed
POEM 3. The butcher's son-in- law
The butchers son- in- law
Was tall, black haired, blue eyed
Leading man stunning handsome
His apron was a startling blinding white
Each button neatly done
His name was Seymour and
At four it became a thrilling name
He'd lean over the high high counter
A piece of salami in his hand
And though I detested the garlicy treat
From him it was a gift unparalleled and grand
The butcher told my mother that
He thought Seymour was a no good bum
I did not care what any thought of him
To me, he was as good a man could come
POEM 4. Kindergarten Ruthie
I had waited for school to begin
For as long as I could recall
On tip toe turned the brassy knob
Found my unexpected all- on- my- own discovered friend
Ruthie, standing by light spilling windows
Ruthie, a little girl, quite tall
POEM 5. Azalea Baby
Waited that time
Until all was certain
butterfly wings
Fluttered
And then
Crimson pouring
Into the bright cold
Room where you
Trapped in your tube
Stopped
Wild child
Exploring inner
Worlds you lost
Your way
And stuck
Fluttered forever
Away
Leaving behind
Your wings
Under my heart
Forever four months
POEM 6. Azalea Baby .... Part 2
Wheeled past
Bundles full
An azalea plant
In my lap
Out the door
Without you
Ever
Labels:
Relationship poems
Azalea Baby
Waited that time
Until all was certain
butterfly wings
Fluttered
And then
Crimson pouring
Into the bright cold
Room where you
Trapped in your tube
Stopped
Wild child
Exploring inner
Worlds you lost
Your way
And stuck
Fluttered forever
Away
Leaving behind
Your wings
Under my heart
Forever four months
Azalea Baby .... Part 2
Wheeled past
Bundles full
An azalea plant
In my lap
Out the door
Without you
Ever
Waited that time
Until all was certain
butterfly wings
Fluttered
And then
Crimson pouring
Into the bright cold
Room where you
Trapped in your tube
Stopped
Wild child
Exploring inner
Worlds you lost
Your way
And stuck
Fluttered forever
Away
Leaving behind
Your wings
Under my heart
Forever four months
Azalea Baby .... Part 2
Wheeled past
Bundles full
An azalea plant
In my lap
Out the door
Without you
Ever
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
DAY 12 PROMPT -FORM/ANTI-FIRM. POEM - SHADORMA DANCES & SHANDRA COLLAPSES
DAY 12 PROMPT- TWO FOR TUESDAY- FORM AND ANTI FORM -POEM-SHADORMA
FORM - Shadorma Dances
Slips into the room
Gossamer
Veils swirl white
In the jasmine sunset light
Shadorma dances
ANTI-FORM - Shandra Collapses
In she slips
Banging open the
Bedroom door
Ripped tee-shirt
With baby spills
At the final end of day
Flops across the bed in disheveled splay
Posted by Dr. Pearl Ketover Prilik (PKP) at 8:41 PM 0 comments
Labels: Shadorma and Shandra
FORM - Shadorma Dances
Slips into the room
Gossamer
Veils swirl white
In the jasmine sunset light
Shadorma dances
ANTI-FORM - Shandra Collapses
In she slips
Banging open the
Bedroom door
Ripped tee-shirt
With baby spills
At the final end of day
Flops across the bed in disheveled splay
Posted by Dr. Pearl Ketover Prilik (PKP) at 8:41 PM 0 comments
Labels: Shadorma and Shandra
Labels:
Shadorma and Shandra
ALL SORTS OF POEMS IN DIFFERENT FORMS
Anti-Form?
Do no know how many I will be able to get through
Perhaps some will stymie and I shall not do...
Will start at absract and end at vinanelle
At least for a free spirit such as I that is Day 12's self-assigned hell....
**************************************************************
ABSTRACT
Jello Form
Squiggled wiggled
jiggled slither...
squish,squash,splat,
form...
**************************************************
ACROSTIC
Word Bound
For one like me both drawn and repelled
Onto the rack of rule captured thought
Radiant with precision found
Morbid in the panic of the words so bound
*********************************************************
ALPHABET
Muse In Hiding
And here we are and
Be there we
Come only three letters in until it is
Done, done and over ain't this
Fun
Gone, the jaunty Muse is
Hid -alive
Inside a sparkling
Jar within a tight turned lid
Kindled spark still deeply
Lit
Mourning quiet, still deep in recess fit
Neath the blanket
Of the letters safe from the battered hit
Purposefully asleep
Quiet as that proverbial
Rodent peep
Silent in
The leagues of the deepest deep
Well
X-ray vision only would
Yield a tell
Zealously protecting her creative spark from a from that her out would sell
***************************************************
Annagrammatic (Haiku-ish)
Creation
Race in on action
React, tear, not trace an arc
Create one actor
***************************************************
The Blitz Poem
Pen a form
Pen it in a poem
Poem it up and
Poem it down
Down into the depth of the poet soul
Down until the form is done
Done as you began when it was begun
Done – or moving toward the done in earnest try
Try, try to continue to mine for things to say
Try, and try again to keep all in the flow
Flow as crystal water over river rock
Flow as freely as one can
Can this happen
Can it be
Be a form that lets passion
Be not snagged on the rules
Rules not holding
Rules not impediments
Impediments drift only in the mind
Impediments will only then tie and bind
Bind one harsh and cutting off the sound
Bind one with blindfolds and mouth gags
Gags on with the incessant drum-beat of words stuffed
Gags on numbers forced onto image
Image breaking out and free
Image screaming let me be
Be not held by word placement that you say
Be not imprisoned in any way
Way beyond in horizonless flight
Way above what is wrong or so-called right
Right here and now
Right not left or down or up or on the side
Side turned backwards on its ear
Side turned ungraciously showing its full rear
Rear turning and then rearing up and full
Rear defaming this heinous binding bull
Bull stubborn chafing powerfully
Bull breaking from these binds to charge free
Free but not quite yet, no not at in the clear
Free still ranging on a plane still far from here
Here there is still the numbered game
Here stuck within this orchestrated same
Same repetition although if not in a state of transfix
Same could become different if not mired in this mix
Mix it up breathe and shake off the prison steel
Mix can coalesce within any space, created or invented real
Real is itself an image, not quite held
Real and rules and creativity can and do meld
Meld together, free the muse, let the words fly
Held only by the form of all that is in fact poetry
***************************************************
BOP – What To Do With Your Time?
Time a mecurial unmanageable thing
Moving, jiving along as we sing
Singing songs of days and things
Needing to get done
Personal stuff while folks
Starve and lives of desperation lived by some
What to do with your time? What to do with your time?
There are those who isolate
There are those who gravitate
Those who gather close and problem with brain storm
Those who run their hands upon each other’s form
There are simply those that seem to care
And others who seem to feel all too much to bear
What to do with your time? What to do with your time?
Isolate, gravitate, problem storm, hands upon each other’s form
What to do?
Concentrate on all of them
Or on those close to you
Do what you can when you know you must
Understanding that this way, that way, eventually all will turn to dust
What to do with your time? What to do with your time?
YIKES!!! I have wanted to go through the 30 odd forms listed on PA....!
Do no know how many I will be able to get through
Perhaps some will stymie and I shall not do...
Will start at absract and end at vinanelle
At least for a free spirit such as I that is Day 12's self-assigned hell....
**************************************************************
ABSTRACT
Jello Form
Squiggled wiggled
jiggled slither...
squish,squash,splat,
form...
**************************************************
ACROSTIC
Word Bound
For one like me both drawn and repelled
Onto the rack of rule captured thought
Radiant with precision found
Morbid in the panic of the words so bound
*********************************************************
ALPHABET
Muse In Hiding
And here we are and
Be there we
Come only three letters in until it is
Done, done and over ain't this
Fun
Gone, the jaunty Muse is
Hid -alive
Inside a sparkling
Jar within a tight turned lid
Kindled spark still deeply
Lit
Mourning quiet, still deep in recess fit
Neath the blanket
Of the letters safe from the battered hit
Purposefully asleep
Quiet as that proverbial
Rodent peep
Silent in
The leagues of the deepest deep
Well
X-ray vision only would
Yield a tell
Zealously protecting her creative spark from a from that her out would sell
***************************************************
Annagrammatic (Haiku-ish)
Creation
Race in on action
React, tear, not trace an arc
Create one actor
***************************************************
The Blitz Poem
Pen a form
Pen it in a poem
Poem it up and
Poem it down
Down into the depth of the poet soul
Down until the form is done
Done as you began when it was begun
Done – or moving toward the done in earnest try
Try, try to continue to mine for things to say
Try, and try again to keep all in the flow
Flow as crystal water over river rock
Flow as freely as one can
Can this happen
Can it be
Be a form that lets passion
Be not snagged on the rules
Rules not holding
Rules not impediments
Impediments drift only in the mind
Impediments will only then tie and bind
Bind one harsh and cutting off the sound
Bind one with blindfolds and mouth gags
Gags on with the incessant drum-beat of words stuffed
Gags on numbers forced onto image
Image breaking out and free
Image screaming let me be
Be not held by word placement that you say
Be not imprisoned in any way
Way beyond in horizonless flight
Way above what is wrong or so-called right
Right here and now
Right not left or down or up or on the side
Side turned backwards on its ear
Side turned ungraciously showing its full rear
Rear turning and then rearing up and full
Rear defaming this heinous binding bull
Bull stubborn chafing powerfully
Bull breaking from these binds to charge free
Free but not quite yet, no not at in the clear
Free still ranging on a plane still far from here
Here there is still the numbered game
Here stuck within this orchestrated same
Same repetition although if not in a state of transfix
Same could become different if not mired in this mix
Mix it up breathe and shake off the prison steel
Mix can coalesce within any space, created or invented real
Real is itself an image, not quite held
Real and rules and creativity can and do meld
Meld together, free the muse, let the words fly
Held only by the form of all that is in fact poetry
***************************************************
BOP – What To Do With Your Time?
Time a mecurial unmanageable thing
Moving, jiving along as we sing
Singing songs of days and things
Needing to get done
Personal stuff while folks
Starve and lives of desperation lived by some
What to do with your time? What to do with your time?
There are those who isolate
There are those who gravitate
Those who gather close and problem with brain storm
Those who run their hands upon each other’s form
There are simply those that seem to care
And others who seem to feel all too much to bear
What to do with your time? What to do with your time?
Isolate, gravitate, problem storm, hands upon each other’s form
What to do?
Concentrate on all of them
Or on those close to you
Do what you can when you know you must
Understanding that this way, that way, eventually all will turn to dust
What to do with your time? What to do with your time?
YIKES!!! I have wanted to go through the 30 odd forms listed on PA....!
DIFFERENT POEMS IN DIFFERENT FORMS CONTINUED....
CASCADE POEM .... 6 MINUTE RACE
Only six minutes to write a cascade poem
hands icy heart racing
rushing toward ending from start
thirsting to master this challenge set
Words fall from fingers onto the screen
eyes burn from the light in the room dimly lit
breath held, ears listening for an opening door
only six minutes to write a cascade poem
Time runnning short
will not be able to complete
clear this ridiculous bar that I set to meet
hands icy racing heart
Will not have time to rest in a room
footsteps coming on door opening down there
never will finish
rushing toward ending from the start
Faster, move faster
think not, simply move
Heart still, fingers, and face now
breath held, ears listening to an opening door
(191 words)
2011-04-12
CONCRETE POEM - (a poor attempt) F IS FOR FORM
Form is what I was supposed
to teach in school to those
who had never read poetry at
all - not to concentrate on
the passion
but to teach
the pentameter
and the style
leave them in
blank isolated
alone in stark
picked off the
bone senseless
words stripped
of all the fun
music deadened
in those rooms
where poetry is
taught and came
to despise form
over substance
leaving this F
here as a banal
concrete bent
as well as an
upraised middle
finger sent
***********************
ELEGY FOR THE FORM CHALLENGE
There comes a time when
it must be faced that
certain challenges are
done
When the light has drained
from the sky and taken all
the sun
There comes a time when
it must be faced that
some endeavors are private
to be set-personal-best-norms
There comes a time when
one must bury the strive to
write each of all the forms
And so perhaps there might be
one or two or more written in
a different way
But finally as darkness falls
this individual exercise played
for all to see - is done, and
laid to rest - enough mania to
last the remainder of this day...
**********
EPITAPH - FOR DRIED LEATHER RUNNING SHOES
Fifteen years of jogging
only on a one track mind
**********************
FIBONACCI - THE HOWL
There
in
stellar
darkening
rises the haunting
howl of poetic discontent
**************
FOUND POETRY - PAY NOW
Donate
Please pay now
American
points
to
the Japan Earthquake
*****************
GHAZAL -
With the ghazal
I had no mazel
****************
HAIKU -
Rain falls on kitten
invisible in the dark
mewling in the storm
******************
HAY(naku - WHY?
Poet
writes forms
in the night
***************
INSULT POETRY - The Bigot
The bigot
stands with hands
over ears so whatever
brains there might be
there don't fall out -
The bigot does not see
even with glasses because
the bigot will not look
***********
Okay folks I think I am through putting myself and others through this personal challenge within the challenge. (PS I don't like insult poetry but don't much care for bigots...:)
Only six minutes to write a cascade poem
hands icy heart racing
rushing toward ending from start
thirsting to master this challenge set
Words fall from fingers onto the screen
eyes burn from the light in the room dimly lit
breath held, ears listening for an opening door
only six minutes to write a cascade poem
Time runnning short
will not be able to complete
clear this ridiculous bar that I set to meet
hands icy racing heart
Will not have time to rest in a room
footsteps coming on door opening down there
never will finish
rushing toward ending from the start
Faster, move faster
think not, simply move
Heart still, fingers, and face now
breath held, ears listening to an opening door
(191 words)
2011-04-12
CONCRETE POEM - (a poor attempt) F IS FOR FORM
Form is what I was supposed
to teach in school to those
who had never read poetry at
all - not to concentrate on
the passion
but to teach
the pentameter
and the style
leave them in
blank isolated
alone in stark
picked off the
bone senseless
words stripped
of all the fun
music deadened
in those rooms
where poetry is
taught and came
to despise form
over substance
leaving this F
here as a banal
concrete bent
as well as an
upraised middle
finger sent
***********************
ELEGY FOR THE FORM CHALLENGE
There comes a time when
it must be faced that
certain challenges are
done
When the light has drained
from the sky and taken all
the sun
There comes a time when
it must be faced that
some endeavors are private
to be set-personal-best-norms
There comes a time when
one must bury the strive to
write each of all the forms
And so perhaps there might be
one or two or more written in
a different way
But finally as darkness falls
this individual exercise played
for all to see - is done, and
laid to rest - enough mania to
last the remainder of this day...
**********
EPITAPH - FOR DRIED LEATHER RUNNING SHOES
Fifteen years of jogging
only on a one track mind
**********************
FIBONACCI - THE HOWL
There
in
stellar
darkening
rises the haunting
howl of poetic discontent
**************
FOUND POETRY - PAY NOW
Donate
Please pay now
American
points
to
the Japan Earthquake
*****************
GHAZAL -
With the ghazal
I had no mazel
****************
HAIKU -
Rain falls on kitten
invisible in the dark
mewling in the storm
******************
HAY(naku - WHY?
Poet
writes forms
in the night
***************
INSULT POETRY - The Bigot
The bigot
stands with hands
over ears so whatever
brains there might be
there don't fall out -
The bigot does not see
even with glasses because
the bigot will not look
***********
Okay folks I think I am through putting myself and others through this personal challenge within the challenge. (PS I don't like insult poetry but don't much care for bigots...:)
Monday, April 11, 2011
DAY 11 PROMPT -MAYBE ------ POEM - MAY BEA
May Bea
May Bea was a young girl when her widowed father keeled over in his garden, clutched his chest and died
Left her caretaker of the cottage and his roses, both of them his pride
May Bea had planned to go to schooling a teacher she was certain she would be
But first the roses needed pruning, growing up there round the willow tree
May Bea wore a hat upon her head but her hands in the wormy earth always they were bare
The roses bloomed in manic profusion pouring o'er the garden under ceaseless songful care
Out in front the garden there was a fence, a slat gated, simple white painted thing
Out there, on drifted air any passer by, could clearly hear sweet May Bea sing
May Bea sang in her high contralto, her tones at first pitch perfect crystal clear
Sang the songs of her father's boyhood country, the notes he held so dear
Months they kept on melting one year soft as rose petals becoming five, then ten, and on
Blue veins sprouted neath her white skinned hands and pushed her youth til it was true begone
Miss May Bea kept on singing for eighty years, although at last her voice grew whispered low
Her tattered hat slipped from her head, on rose strewn ground Miss May Bea, gardened go
May Bea had planned to go to schooling when her garden chores were through
Only there always was a something that was in desperate need for her to do
May Bea was a young girl when her widowed father keeled over in his garden, clutched his chest and died
Left her caretaker of the cottage and his roses, both of them his pride
May Bea had planned to go to schooling a teacher she was certain she would be
But first the roses needed pruning, growing up there round the willow tree
May Bea wore a hat upon her head but her hands in the wormy earth always they were bare
The roses bloomed in manic profusion pouring o'er the garden under ceaseless songful care
Out in front the garden there was a fence, a slat gated, simple white painted thing
Out there, on drifted air any passer by, could clearly hear sweet May Bea sing
May Bea sang in her high contralto, her tones at first pitch perfect crystal clear
Sang the songs of her father's boyhood country, the notes he held so dear
Months they kept on melting one year soft as rose petals becoming five, then ten, and on
Blue veins sprouted neath her white skinned hands and pushed her youth til it was true begone
Miss May Bea kept on singing for eighty years, although at last her voice grew whispered low
Her tattered hat slipped from her head, on rose strewn ground Miss May Bea, gardened go
May Bea had planned to go to schooling when her garden chores were through
Only there always was a something that was in desperate need for her to do
Labels:
MAY BEA
Sunday, April 10, 2011
DAY. 10 -PROMPT - NEVER AGAIN POEM 3 - NEVER AGAIN?
Does the never
Tell us ever
When it has arrived
Last dance, last kiss
Last chance, last
On those seldom times when it is true
That it is known something is now ever through
Hold it close savor each precious drop so dear
For never again, not usually either known or clear
Tell us ever
When it has arrived
Last dance, last kiss
Last chance, last
On those seldom times when it is true
That it is known something is now ever through
Hold it close savor each precious drop so dear
For never again, not usually either known or clear
Labels:
Never Again?
DAY 10 PROMPT -NEVER AGAIN POEM 2 - NEVER AGAIN A LITTLE GIRL
Never again
a little girl
Running barefoot
Hair a curl
Loose limbs
Whirling in a summer's twirl
Never again
A little girl
Except deep within
From this woman's eyes
A little girl's secret grin
a little girl
Running barefoot
Hair a curl
Loose limbs
Whirling in a summer's twirl
Never again
A little girl
Except deep within
From this woman's eyes
A little girl's secret grin
Labels:
Never again a little girl
DAY 10 PROMPT - NEVER AGAIN - POEM. 1. - NEVER AGAIN
Sunday, April 10, 2011 3:37:40 PM (GMT Daylight Time, UTC+01:00)
Never Again
Never again babies bayonetted
In courtyards for sport
Never again tattoeed numbers
On wrists, trainloads
Of human cargo
Poured into pain
ending in smoke
Thick, black smoke
of shame
Never again...
the end product
Of treating
Another like
The Other
Never again?
Look and smell
the wisp of smoke
drifting in the air
Never Again
Never again babies bayonetted
In courtyards for sport
Never again tattoeed numbers
On wrists, trainloads
Of human cargo
Poured into pain
ending in smoke
Thick, black smoke
of shame
Never again...
the end product
Of treating
Another like
The Other
Never again?
Look and smell
the wisp of smoke
drifting in the air
Labels:
Never Again
Saturday, April 9, 2011
DAY 9 PROMPT POEM WITH A SPECIFIC TIME - 8:23 1970-1990
8:23 - 1970 - 1990
It was the newest precision watch, accurate in unmatched accuracy
Correct to a fractional second no deviation ever would be
He was fascinated in one thousand, nineteen hundred and seventy
Called the time on the phone regularly, watched the second hand click in perfect synchronicity
This creation of the best science brought him this watch The unparalleled Accutron
Used by NASA to launch and yet, an alarm beeped each day although it was never turned on
At first we all searched for meaning what could 8:23 be?
When each family event neared we all would think this time it could be
Engagements and weddings, graduations and each new career
Babies born, surgeries, accidents, joyful surprises, even a death for a few came quite near
Things happened at all sorts of times obviously
Years melted one into the other and yet nothing happened at 8:23
Except, of course the alarm which a part of him came to be
A single quiet beep, in movies, in plays, even at second row Broadway shows we did see
A single beep during dinner, in fine restaurants, at home and away
And as the years passed, accepted and smiled at with nary a sigh and no more to say
He never did fix it, never would hear of a potential repair
Perhaps there was no reason, or perhaps there was, he did not either way care
The beep was part of the precision at eight twenty and three
Every evening for twenty years a beep beeped faithfully
Over the years becoming his quiet crisp signature sign
The familiar touchstone that signaled he was near and everything fine
Finally, a hot, searing hot summer came with a definite medical end
And though no one said it we wondered if 8:23 was ready finally its message to send
On that last day as he slept, woke and breathed in the air of another atmosphere
We watched and we waited as the sun set and 8:23 moved nearer and near
He died the next morning at 11:11 ... Not 8:23
Although it would have been pretty, death is not poetry
It was the newest precision watch, accurate in unmatched accuracy
Correct to a fractional second no deviation ever would be
He was fascinated in one thousand, nineteen hundred and seventy
Called the time on the phone regularly, watched the second hand click in perfect synchronicity
This creation of the best science brought him this watch The unparalleled Accutron
Used by NASA to launch and yet, an alarm beeped each day although it was never turned on
At first we all searched for meaning what could 8:23 be?
When each family event neared we all would think this time it could be
Engagements and weddings, graduations and each new career
Babies born, surgeries, accidents, joyful surprises, even a death for a few came quite near
Things happened at all sorts of times obviously
Years melted one into the other and yet nothing happened at 8:23
Except, of course the alarm which a part of him came to be
A single quiet beep, in movies, in plays, even at second row Broadway shows we did see
A single beep during dinner, in fine restaurants, at home and away
And as the years passed, accepted and smiled at with nary a sigh and no more to say
He never did fix it, never would hear of a potential repair
Perhaps there was no reason, or perhaps there was, he did not either way care
The beep was part of the precision at eight twenty and three
Every evening for twenty years a beep beeped faithfully
Over the years becoming his quiet crisp signature sign
The familiar touchstone that signaled he was near and everything fine
Finally, a hot, searing hot summer came with a definite medical end
And though no one said it we wondered if 8:23 was ready finally its message to send
On that last day as he slept, woke and breathed in the air of another atmosphere
We watched and we waited as the sun set and 8:23 moved nearer and near
He died the next morning at 11:11 ... Not 8:23
Although it would have been pretty, death is not poetry
Labels:
8:23. 1970-1990
Friday, April 8, 2011
DAY 8 - PROMPT - GETTING READY TO CELEBRATE
Hi all... out in the Big Apple today... prompt wasn't up before I left... and then when I did get the prompt had no WiFi service .... thanks to trusty IPAD was able to write a few on the LIRR (Long Island Railroad)....
Now computer is glitching...Website a mess...mhmmm a celebration simply to have this lap-top and be able to post some of the little ditties... from today...
Hopefully, later this evening will be able to read and comment!
Now computer is glitching...Website a mess...mhmmm a celebration simply to have this lap-top and be able to post some of the little ditties... from today...
Hopefully, later this evening will be able to read and comment!
Just a little preamble disclaimer... I think Day 5's "Goofy" prompt has infected my poetic hard drive... So.. here goes.... #1
DAY 8 - POEM 1. Ready To Sell A Brate
In today's economy
it is acknowledged that
retail sales are not all that great
so even if not quite certain
of the product description
there will undoubtedly be someone
ready, eager and able
to sell a brate
(Insert groan here)
DAY 8 - POEM 1. Ready To Sell A Brate
In today's economy
it is acknowledged that
retail sales are not all that great
so even if not quite certain
of the product description
there will undoubtedly be someone
ready, eager and able
to sell a brate
(Insert groan here)
There are the table set with sparkling crystal
Blossomed centerpieces
Napkins folded as fans
The floor glows waxed to the highest of sheen
Empty of all in the mid-afternoon shafted light
All but the mother to be of the bride cornered
At will out of any passing person's most vigilant sight
Room blurs before her
Into a mass of pink gleams
To where an infant daughter
Melts in her arms - arms suddenly empty it seems
With a sharp shake of her head
And a crisp squaring of shoulder
Blinking she clears the room, a calm smile on her face
Clearing the the clinging memories and repositioned
With welcoming de-lighted grace
Blossomed centerpieces
Napkins folded as fans
The floor glows waxed to the highest of sheen
Empty of all in the mid-afternoon shafted light
All but the mother to be of the bride cornered
At will out of any passing person's most vigilant sight
Room blurs before her
Into a mass of pink gleams
To where an infant daughter
Melts in her arms - arms suddenly empty it seems
With a sharp shake of her head
And a crisp squaring of shoulder
Blinking she clears the room, a calm smile on her face
Clearing the the clinging memories and repositioned
With welcoming de-lighted grace
DAY 8 POEM - 3 Ready Grin
Ready grin
Let's begin
the happy dance
we did back then
whirl and twirl
and hold on tight
lose that look - please
no fight tonight!
Ready grin
Let's begin
the happy dance
we did back then
whirl and twirl
and hold on tight
lose that look - please
no fight tonight!
DAY 8 POEM - 4 - Arms Ready Belly Full
Arms encircling
breasts against the buttoned shirt
mothering the speckeady Grin
DAY 8 - POEM - 5 - Ready grin
Let's begin
the happy dance
we did back then
whirl and twirl
and hold on tight
lose that look - please
no fight tonight!
Arms encircling
breasts against the buttoned shirt
mothering the speckeady Grin
DAY 8 - POEM - 5 - Ready grin
Let's begin
the happy dance
we did back then
whirl and twirl
and hold on tight
lose that look - please
no fight tonight!
DAY 8 - POEM 6. - Arms Ready Belly Full
Arms encircling
breasts against the buttoned shirt
mothering the speck
Arms encircling
breasts against the buttoned shirt
mothering the speck
DAY 8 - POEM - 5 - On The Train Ride Home
On the train ride home from the city
rocked into near slumber
liked a friendly spectre whisper
"You are fine, my dear."
Fine, as an antique tea cup nearly clear
in the meat-hooked paw
of the only now fleeing beast of fear
Before the laughter, hug and cheer
Rocked and alone
Allow this one single full fine-figured tear
On the train ride home from the city
rocked into near slumber
liked a friendly spectre whisper
"You are fine, my dear."
Fine, as an antique tea cup nearly clear
in the meat-hooked paw
of the only now fleeing beast of fear
Before the laughter, hug and cheer
Rocked and alone
Allow this one single full fine-figured tear
DAY 8 - POEM - 6 - Ready Set
All around the
Banyan tree
Children
Dance in purest
Energy
Falling, feeling
Glee from
Head to foot
Incorporated in the
Jasmined air
Kitten-limbed
Loose they
March in
Never measured
Prancing
Quixotically
Released at
Summer
Time
Until...
Verily there comes
With ponderous ground shaking lumber
X-rayed, precisely placed
Yet brute as well, his smashing shout
ZEE, ALL OF ZEE RETURN TO YOUR SEATS THREE MINUTES MORE TIL SCHOOL IS OUT!
DAY 8 - POEM 7 - OH DID WE!
Pizza pie called in
To be delivered and paid
In full with first check!
Pizza pie called in
To be delivered and paid
In full with first check!
DAY 8 POEM 8. - In The Birthday Chair
In the center
sitting there
powder on her cheeks
a flower in her hair
translucent skin reveals
cobalt veins tracking
one hundred years so far
As she looks about the room
and wonders
who all these people are
In the center
sitting there
powder on her cheeks
a flower in her hair
translucent skin reveals
cobalt veins tracking
one hundred years so far
As she looks about the room
and wonders
who all these people are
Thursday, April 7, 2011
POEM-A-DAY CHALLENGE POETIC ASIDES APRIL 2011
DAY 1. HOW DID I GET HERE?
DAY 1. – HELLO TO FELLOW POSTERS
A flick of the finger
A pop on the screen
Three years more ago
All burst forth to be seen
Too many to cite but
There in April they were
RB and WW and Marie Elena for sure
Barbara and Amy and Chev now in new name
Sharon, Linda and Sara both M and of course V
A word drenched street
Filled with the passion, poets and art
Soaked that April in sentiment musing the heart
Happy poetry month to all!
Hello to Laurie, my NaNoWriMo November buddy... Yes, you and Claudsy, and Janet and so many others were there a community that just kept growing... if I ommitted you in first thing in the morning poem... just consider it an April Fool from an April Fool :)
2011-04-01 DAY 1 – POEM 1- How Did I Get Here?
How did I get here
From where did I come
Was I somewhere before
Or just wispy flotsam?
Is all connected
a grand tapestry
woven of each singular
thread into living shimmered majesty
Or is it all random
Could I have been this or that
A bent willow weeping or a
Sleepy eyed cat?
Or perhaps I might never have
Come here at all
Remained stuck in neutral
In some cosmic stall
I have no idea how I got here
At all, although of course
The tale of the egg
and the swimmers was clear
its magic made no more sense
than flying storks or cabbage patch glory
I’ve a sneaky suspicion that only at the end of it all
Will I know the whole story
Until that day comes and I am in no hurry
I shall ponder and wonder, be open to all, and not worry
What got me here
Or even what here means to me
Open heart, open minded, relaxed I’ll just try to be…
2011-04-01 – DAY 1 – POEM 2 - Circles
What got me here
is the question
the question I see
Floating above me as
clear as can be
As clear as can be
What got me here that
is the mark I must beat
But as I walk
quiet round halls in
soft slippered feet
I know not where I am
or when me I will meet
2011-04-01 DAY 1 – POEM 3 - What Did Get Me Here?
Two teens in August
wrapped in the edge of the surf
Lancaster pounding
(14 words)
2011-04-01
2011-04-02 DAY 2 -- PROMPT- A POST-CARD
DAY 2 – POEM 1
Here I am
forever young dancing
on white sands forever
beneath wrinkling toes
2011-04-02 DAY 2- POEM 2
On a memoir likened edge
Wind blowing cold stinging cheek up on the top
Please receive before I drop
2011-04-02 DAY 2 – POEM 3
Turquoise agate water shimmers in
Perfume air drifts on iguana emerald back
Blinking in the unreality of the here
Without you
DAY 3 – PROMPT- IMAGINE A WORLD WITHOUT YOU
2011-04-03 POEM 1 - There without me
Far less words rushing
Unasked for into varied people's ears
Far more tears unshed in salted water coffers
2011-04-03 DAY 3 POEM 2 -Artists Paused
She was eighteen and would have started college
or slung her camera on her shoulder, her beret
on her head and traveled the world, smiling in
that bright white flash she had
He was nineteen and would have finished college or
walked from his parents' home and business, rolled canvas
under his arm, paints and black tee shirts in his duffle
he'd smoke in the perfect light of Paris or Tuscanny
scented with turpentine
She would pause one day in the darkroom
and he stop midstroke and smile in fleeting thought
of each other and the innocents they had been
before they journeyed, afar, alone, abroad
their passion ignited and alive in their work
Not their child
DAY 4 –PROMPT – DESCRIBE A TYPE OF PERSON
2011-04-04 DAY 4 – POEM 1 - Depressed
Through a veil of gray
dawns and dims each passing day
interested in nothing
(11 words)
2011-04-04 DAY 4 – POEM 2 - Happy Little Idiot
Papa used to say
show me a man
who smiles ALL
the day
and I'll show
you a schmuck
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 3 - Middling Ones
Does not go up too far
or down too low
stays on the line
plane perfectly balanced
as they go
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 4 - Mothers Of Grown Children
Hold their opines to this or that
Focus on the mundane, like not getting fat
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 4 - Editor Of Poetry Site
Come up with a prompt each day
Stand and watch as poets play
Poking sometimes by and by
A little fun but watch the eye
(Thank you Robert!)
2011-04-04 DAY 4 – POEM 5 - Lovers
Drowned in eyes, ears, touch of tongue on teeth
In the possible " all" they dance beneath
Fingers twined pulse as one
Sure that never this, no one felt this... not a one
(29 words)
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 5 - Teachers
Rise and shine
Look and live for
the light the sparkle
that they somehow did ignite
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 6 - The Young Man On The Corner With A Spoon
The young man on the corner
Holds his spoon
Against his thigh
Tapping gently
To his own tune
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 7 - The Morning Phone Caller
He calls in the morning filled
with good intentions galore
and I stop writing more...
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 8 - The Boy-friend In A Father's Eye
Hands
all hands
on and
shudder
in
her
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 9 - The Uncomfortable Self
The uncomfortable self
is not noble at all
the uncomfortable self does not stand very tall
nor view the world with the kind smiling eye
the uncomfortable self's
not a very nice guy
The uncomfortable self
wants what it wants when it wants it
its blood rises and boils at the slightest bit
The uncomfortable self
is not noble at all
the uncomfortable self does not stand very tall
And when it appears
and will not leave on its own accord
Smack yourself in the head and bring comfort aboard
For sometimes all we ever do need
Is a good self-smack to get righted in thought, action and deed
Indeed
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 10 - The Kindergartener
The smile spreads from ear to ear
Lunch box shining in September's first year
A skip to the step
A hop skip and a jump
Through the big doors
Heart going thump
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 11 - The Anxious Flyer
On the aisle sitting there
Icy hands in clasped in prayer
Lift off yet to begin
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 12 - Pretty Girl
Sashay of hip along the shore
in her bikini, flips her hair
as tide tickles her toes and she tickles much more
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 13 - The Nuns In The Park
I was but three
when I saw them walk
under an arbor in a Brooklyn park
chestnut blossoms white fluttered
down around on ebon shoulders and eyes clear brown
to me a glance of deepest calm did they give
and defined forever contemplative
(40 words)
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 14 - The Salty Fireman
At eighteen on a very hot dog day walked by the firehouse
as wet shirted, hero to me, firemen washed their fire truck
walked by short skirted, long hair swinging, smiled, face a flush
as one fireman...A FIREMAN mind you cried out implying he wanted to f--k
I would like to reverse that walk
and never hear from a FIREMAN that kind of talk
(Ah to be 18 again...or not)
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 15 - Poet Who Scans To Find Her Name
Who would do such a thing
A combination of crass, self-involved and neediest of needing
The skim that looks to find what has been said and does praise sing
Who? Who? Would do such a thing?
And now…… (appreciation for fellow poet’s comments)
Thanks to RC and thanks for the great word grinagog
Jerry …. Mhmm who is channeling whom that is the question …. lol
Debra E. glad you enjoyed depressed
Nancy J. thanks for the support
Robert thanks for the early morning encouragement
Linda thanks for the mention of Middlings glad you enjoyed
Miskmask thanks for the ‘go girl’ fun!
Patricia – thanks and great way of likening depression to a tooth-ache!
Joy thank you – prolific perhaps today – but really just having fun
Joseph – thank you, for taking the time to mention
Marcia – thank you happy you enjoyed Teachers… that is what it’s all about isn’t it?
PSC – Thanks glad you liked The Editor and In The Father’s Eye… promise I am not Walt and he is not me :)
Kerry – Thank you I had no idea where The Man With The Spoon came from! and thank you for enjoying the little kindergartener Love that you wanted to hug this “creature”
Please forgive me if I missed anyone but of course I am certainly not one who would actually look for my own name and just found these incidentally in reading... something like finding "those" pictures in Playboy while reading the articles…...
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 16 – The Type of Person Who Is Part of the PA Community
Look at what has transpired here today
Who cannot be awed and inspired... let them so say!
Good night to all and thank you for a wonderful shimmering mirage of life...
Here is one to us all! TO THE.....
(what followed here were snippets of poet’s work from the day…not included here as they were not properly cited)
DAY 5 PROMPT (TWO FOR TUESDAY) GOOFY AND SERIOUS POEMS
2011-04-05 DAY 5 POEM 1 – Goofy Taken To Cedar Sinai Hospital
It is with regret
to report that
Goofy
has been taken
to Cedar Sinai
hospital after
a random shooting
with long time associate
white glove found
at the scene
along with drug paraphernalia
details as they emerge
in what appears to be a
tragic ending for two icons
2011-04-05 DAY 5 POEM 2 - ittle Girl
She has the weight
of the world on
her shoulders it seems
sighing heavily in
her three year-old-dreams
2011-04-05 DAY 5 POEM 3 –That Grin
Lop-sided off his face
it slides toward
the giant sneakers
in which his thirteen-year-old
feet somehow glide
goofy grin
does not match skateboarded
serious feet
as he soars at his invented mete
2011-04-05 DAY 5 POEM 4 - Investigation Ongoing On Goofy Shooting
In a related story
it seems that a
motive has been established
LAPD is searching
for missing Micky Mouse
1950's star of film, print and TV
it is now reported that he may
be armed with a shotgun
reported missing from the
home of a Mr. E. Fudd
2011-04-05 DAY 5 POEM 5 - For Never A Goofy Girl
Never was a goofy girl out of place
Alongside all I knew
Told of children shoved to die in ovens
No Hansel. Gretel fable
Children starving in China because
of food left on my plate at table
We were to fear The Russians
Though they were my grandfather's family
So it was The Bomb they feared
Although we were the ones that launched one first
Did not seem fair at all to me
As they put a dog tag on my neck
On a chain cold underneath my shirt
From time to time we'd all get down
And hide underneath our desks
Watch for flying glass
That would shower us all
Duck so we would not get hurt
Think of children gone in ovens
And starving screaming far away
When recess time arrived
Being goofy was not seemly play
2011-04-05 DAY 5 POEM 6 - Breaking News
An earlier report that Minnie Mouse
fifties film star seems to be in error
Ms. Mouse spoke with Barbara Walters
calling into The View
for an exclusive interview
in strong although wavering
signature voice Ms. Mouse
announced from her Bel Aire mansion
that she has retained Raoul Felder and
plans to sue
2011-04-05 DAY 5 POEM 7 - First You Get Goofy
They got the news on one of those late hot Julys
The whole family there in plush icy offices
Smiling with teeth and ten staring skeleton eyes
Watching the door for the coming coat of white
Who came in films under an arm
and said something was not quite right
Smiling as though a family he was not about to rip assunder with harm
A simple error, said he, syllables beyond their wildest belief
pierced the thick shield of ragged collective incipient grief
It happens - just a block in a bile duct the endoscopy clear
No pancreatic cancer here!
As all in concert felt in that icy room the heat thaw through their fear
Mother to son, brother to sister
all to the father/husband center stage sitting a thrust upon starring role mister
Center stage black hair gleam against his barely lined face
yellowed, graying as eggs left too long to age
The air stopped,
each particle
paused
between tears
and cheers
and then together
they all
got goofy -
Six footed brother pointed a toe
and piroutted like a ballet - Why? To this day no one did know
Daughter circle shimmied round her father's chair, kicked up her heel
and pinched herself again and again, pinched herself real
In that plush office they shouted up to the heavens beyond the ceiling did they call
"That folks is all! That folks is all!"
Laughed, and shouted correctly this time again
"Tha...Tha... Tha... THAT'S ALL!"
Then helped their reprieved guy to his feet
shook the docs hand, yes it had been their pleasure to meet
Jabbed the elevator button and giggling quietly falling into one another
Once alone inside as when he was ten fart noises made the attorney brother
Alone together the still until then mother
stuck her tongue out - and they all stuck out their tongues grinning one after the other
So when the doors did open they were flushed and colored high
And stricken beyond despair to see
the having-run-down-six-floors to catch them doctor
waiting there
this time the correct films under his arm
death in hand, tear in steel granite eyes did he bear
2011-04-05 DAY 5 POEM 8 - August Dying
They sat in the still sun bright August room
white sheets upon his bed
crisp in the sun light that seemed
incongrous for him cologned against
his pillows knife creased pajamas lying
against his splayed fingertips
As he looked at his progeny and smiled
and ready all orchestrated closed his eyes.
A moment passed and then another
A jay called outside
Oxygen whooshed
The two year old in mother's arms stirred
And was shushed
the daughter on the bed covered one hand
the son sat on the other edge and covered the other
Together they sang ... Phantom ... The Night...
His face was calm
The song ended
Moments passed, the two-year-old needed to eat said she
A ten-year-old whispered "when?"
The son got up to pee
The daughter's leg began to cramp sitting as a child on knees
The grandmother stared, bit her bottom lip hard enough to bleed and fled
Half hour later he opened his eyes scanned room for the culprit and said
Am I still here, and not yet dead?
(153 words)
2011-04-05 DAY 5 POEM 9 - The Goofiest Joke Of All
Would it not be great
If all the consequences of violence
natural and human-kind hate
was just some sort of Universal
goofy global poke
to waken all the sleeping folk
DAY 6 PROMPT – DON’T _________ __________
2011-04-06 DAY 6 POEM 1 - Don't Look Back
Don't look back
The road ribbons ahead
What lies behind flattened
On the highway so much
Road- kill still and dead
2011-04-06 DAY 6 POEM 2 - Don't Rhyme Always
Don't rhyme all the time
Especially in haiku
Not appropriate
2011-04-07 DAY 6 POEM 3 – Don’t Turn Away
Even if it burns your eyes
and bile rises in your throat
even if you doubt there is
a single thing you can do
Don't turn away
Look, see and remember
If you can point the
way to others
If it is over repeat what you
have seen
You will be able to
If and only if
You
Do not
Look Away
2011-04-07 DAY 6 POEM 4 - Don't Keep Silent
You have the power
Of speech unique
Among species to
Relate, intimately,
Descriptively, the
Entire scope of perception,
Thought, and action,
Imagine, Ponder, Act
Shout, whisper, scream,
Implore, plead, demand
Ask, beg, sing,
Speak in any way
Each according to
The circumstance
It is the Universal mandate
For humanity's gift
Don't Stay Silent
2011-04-07 DAY 6 POEM 5 - Don't Stay Awake
The greatest poem ever read
Is not springing now from this head
As you lie upon your bed
Don't stay awake
( sweet dreams all...)
DAY 7 – PROMPT – WHAT IF…..
2011-04-07 DAY 7 POEM 1 - What If Pigs Really Flew
If pigs really flew
then what would you do
Until....
2011-04-07 DAY 7 POEM 2 - What If Oswald Had Sneezed
What if Oswald, that infamous Lee
Has sneezed or seized and misfired
How might the unspooling ribbon of history
transpired
2011-04-07 DAY 7 POEM 3 - What If Hitler's Mother Had A Headache
What sometime in that July
The synonymous frau had turned
Away, nein my dear please not today
2011-04-07 DAY 7 POEM 4 - What If That Novel Really Did Sell
What if that novel really did sell
What if all did know you well
After so long waiting for the shoe that now fell
What if it were simply calmly, merely, swell
(34 words)
2011-04-07 DAY 7 POEM 5 - What If I Read Before I Wrote
What if I read before I wrote?
Just relaxed and sat where I do sit
Saw Andrew's take on yesterday's spam*
Michael's path so divinely lit
Bruce's hubris and vulnerable Fuchushima
Daniel's Buddah birthday thema
Debra's yesterday's perhaps surreal dreama
What if I read before I wrote?
What if Robin had had a non furry bro or sis or two
What about RC's added syllable and deleted line down haiku?
What if Lori's surprise did not fall?
What if I read before I wrote at all?
Read Marie Elena's " Internet" and those she mused never met
MB's reflections on eternity and grace
and
Hannah, Hannah's sweet sun and the very air's musical dancing face
What if I before I wrote I read?
I think I'd never get out of bed!
With all these and more and Robert's possum dead!
(*The mentioned poets and work are all contributors to Poetic Asides)
DAY 7 POEM 5 – What if there was a PAA
What if there was a PAA
From reading writing and commenting
What if?
Would I really drag myself away?
DAY 1. – HELLO TO FELLOW POSTERS
A flick of the finger
A pop on the screen
Three years more ago
All burst forth to be seen
Too many to cite but
There in April they were
RB and WW and Marie Elena for sure
Barbara and Amy and Chev now in new name
Sharon, Linda and Sara both M and of course V
A word drenched street
Filled with the passion, poets and art
Soaked that April in sentiment musing the heart
Happy poetry month to all!
Hello to Laurie, my NaNoWriMo November buddy... Yes, you and Claudsy, and Janet and so many others were there a community that just kept growing... if I ommitted you in first thing in the morning poem... just consider it an April Fool from an April Fool :)
2011-04-01 DAY 1 – POEM 1- How Did I Get Here?
How did I get here
From where did I come
Was I somewhere before
Or just wispy flotsam?
Is all connected
a grand tapestry
woven of each singular
thread into living shimmered majesty
Or is it all random
Could I have been this or that
A bent willow weeping or a
Sleepy eyed cat?
Or perhaps I might never have
Come here at all
Remained stuck in neutral
In some cosmic stall
I have no idea how I got here
At all, although of course
The tale of the egg
and the swimmers was clear
its magic made no more sense
than flying storks or cabbage patch glory
I’ve a sneaky suspicion that only at the end of it all
Will I know the whole story
Until that day comes and I am in no hurry
I shall ponder and wonder, be open to all, and not worry
What got me here
Or even what here means to me
Open heart, open minded, relaxed I’ll just try to be…
2011-04-01 – DAY 1 – POEM 2 - Circles
What got me here
is the question
the question I see
Floating above me as
clear as can be
As clear as can be
What got me here that
is the mark I must beat
But as I walk
quiet round halls in
soft slippered feet
I know not where I am
or when me I will meet
2011-04-01 DAY 1 – POEM 3 - What Did Get Me Here?
Two teens in August
wrapped in the edge of the surf
Lancaster pounding
(14 words)
2011-04-01
2011-04-02 DAY 2 -- PROMPT- A POST-CARD
DAY 2 – POEM 1
Here I am
forever young dancing
on white sands forever
beneath wrinkling toes
2011-04-02 DAY 2- POEM 2
On a memoir likened edge
Wind blowing cold stinging cheek up on the top
Please receive before I drop
2011-04-02 DAY 2 – POEM 3
Turquoise agate water shimmers in
Perfume air drifts on iguana emerald back
Blinking in the unreality of the here
Without you
DAY 3 – PROMPT- IMAGINE A WORLD WITHOUT YOU
2011-04-03 POEM 1 - There without me
Far less words rushing
Unasked for into varied people's ears
Far more tears unshed in salted water coffers
2011-04-03 DAY 3 POEM 2 -Artists Paused
She was eighteen and would have started college
or slung her camera on her shoulder, her beret
on her head and traveled the world, smiling in
that bright white flash she had
He was nineteen and would have finished college or
walked from his parents' home and business, rolled canvas
under his arm, paints and black tee shirts in his duffle
he'd smoke in the perfect light of Paris or Tuscanny
scented with turpentine
She would pause one day in the darkroom
and he stop midstroke and smile in fleeting thought
of each other and the innocents they had been
before they journeyed, afar, alone, abroad
their passion ignited and alive in their work
Not their child
DAY 4 –PROMPT – DESCRIBE A TYPE OF PERSON
2011-04-04 DAY 4 – POEM 1 - Depressed
Through a veil of gray
dawns and dims each passing day
interested in nothing
(11 words)
2011-04-04 DAY 4 – POEM 2 - Happy Little Idiot
Papa used to say
show me a man
who smiles ALL
the day
and I'll show
you a schmuck
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 3 - Middling Ones
Does not go up too far
or down too low
stays on the line
plane perfectly balanced
as they go
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 4 - Mothers Of Grown Children
Hold their opines to this or that
Focus on the mundane, like not getting fat
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 4 - Editor Of Poetry Site
Come up with a prompt each day
Stand and watch as poets play
Poking sometimes by and by
A little fun but watch the eye
(Thank you Robert!)
2011-04-04 DAY 4 – POEM 5 - Lovers
Drowned in eyes, ears, touch of tongue on teeth
In the possible " all" they dance beneath
Fingers twined pulse as one
Sure that never this, no one felt this... not a one
(29 words)
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 5 - Teachers
Rise and shine
Look and live for
the light the sparkle
that they somehow did ignite
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 6 - The Young Man On The Corner With A Spoon
The young man on the corner
Holds his spoon
Against his thigh
Tapping gently
To his own tune
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 7 - The Morning Phone Caller
He calls in the morning filled
with good intentions galore
and I stop writing more...
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 8 - The Boy-friend In A Father's Eye
Hands
all hands
on and
shudder
in
her
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 9 - The Uncomfortable Self
The uncomfortable self
is not noble at all
the uncomfortable self does not stand very tall
nor view the world with the kind smiling eye
the uncomfortable self's
not a very nice guy
The uncomfortable self
wants what it wants when it wants it
its blood rises and boils at the slightest bit
The uncomfortable self
is not noble at all
the uncomfortable self does not stand very tall
And when it appears
and will not leave on its own accord
Smack yourself in the head and bring comfort aboard
For sometimes all we ever do need
Is a good self-smack to get righted in thought, action and deed
Indeed
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 10 - The Kindergartener
The smile spreads from ear to ear
Lunch box shining in September's first year
A skip to the step
A hop skip and a jump
Through the big doors
Heart going thump
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 11 - The Anxious Flyer
On the aisle sitting there
Icy hands in clasped in prayer
Lift off yet to begin
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 12 - Pretty Girl
Sashay of hip along the shore
in her bikini, flips her hair
as tide tickles her toes and she tickles much more
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 13 - The Nuns In The Park
I was but three
when I saw them walk
under an arbor in a Brooklyn park
chestnut blossoms white fluttered
down around on ebon shoulders and eyes clear brown
to me a glance of deepest calm did they give
and defined forever contemplative
(40 words)
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 14 - The Salty Fireman
At eighteen on a very hot dog day walked by the firehouse
as wet shirted, hero to me, firemen washed their fire truck
walked by short skirted, long hair swinging, smiled, face a flush
as one fireman...A FIREMAN mind you cried out implying he wanted to f--k
I would like to reverse that walk
and never hear from a FIREMAN that kind of talk
(Ah to be 18 again...or not)
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 15 - Poet Who Scans To Find Her Name
Who would do such a thing
A combination of crass, self-involved and neediest of needing
The skim that looks to find what has been said and does praise sing
Who? Who? Would do such a thing?
And now…… (appreciation for fellow poet’s comments)
Thanks to RC and thanks for the great word grinagog
Jerry …. Mhmm who is channeling whom that is the question …. lol
Debra E. glad you enjoyed depressed
Nancy J. thanks for the support
Robert thanks for the early morning encouragement
Linda thanks for the mention of Middlings glad you enjoyed
Miskmask thanks for the ‘go girl’ fun!
Patricia – thanks and great way of likening depression to a tooth-ache!
Joy thank you – prolific perhaps today – but really just having fun
Joseph – thank you, for taking the time to mention
Marcia – thank you happy you enjoyed Teachers… that is what it’s all about isn’t it?
PSC – Thanks glad you liked The Editor and In The Father’s Eye… promise I am not Walt and he is not me :)
Kerry – Thank you I had no idea where The Man With The Spoon came from! and thank you for enjoying the little kindergartener Love that you wanted to hug this “creature”
Please forgive me if I missed anyone but of course I am certainly not one who would actually look for my own name and just found these incidentally in reading... something like finding "those" pictures in Playboy while reading the articles…...
2011-04-04 DAY 4 POEM 16 – The Type of Person Who Is Part of the PA Community
Look at what has transpired here today
Who cannot be awed and inspired... let them so say!
Good night to all and thank you for a wonderful shimmering mirage of life...
Here is one to us all! TO THE.....
(what followed here were snippets of poet’s work from the day…not included here as they were not properly cited)
DAY 5 PROMPT (TWO FOR TUESDAY) GOOFY AND SERIOUS POEMS
2011-04-05 DAY 5 POEM 1 – Goofy Taken To Cedar Sinai Hospital
It is with regret
to report that
Goofy
has been taken
to Cedar Sinai
hospital after
a random shooting
with long time associate
white glove found
at the scene
along with drug paraphernalia
details as they emerge
in what appears to be a
tragic ending for two icons
2011-04-05 DAY 5 POEM 2 - ittle Girl
She has the weight
of the world on
her shoulders it seems
sighing heavily in
her three year-old-dreams
2011-04-05 DAY 5 POEM 3 –That Grin
Lop-sided off his face
it slides toward
the giant sneakers
in which his thirteen-year-old
feet somehow glide
goofy grin
does not match skateboarded
serious feet
as he soars at his invented mete
2011-04-05 DAY 5 POEM 4 - Investigation Ongoing On Goofy Shooting
In a related story
it seems that a
motive has been established
LAPD is searching
for missing Micky Mouse
1950's star of film, print and TV
it is now reported that he may
be armed with a shotgun
reported missing from the
home of a Mr. E. Fudd
2011-04-05 DAY 5 POEM 5 - For Never A Goofy Girl
Never was a goofy girl out of place
Alongside all I knew
Told of children shoved to die in ovens
No Hansel. Gretel fable
Children starving in China because
of food left on my plate at table
We were to fear The Russians
Though they were my grandfather's family
So it was The Bomb they feared
Although we were the ones that launched one first
Did not seem fair at all to me
As they put a dog tag on my neck
On a chain cold underneath my shirt
From time to time we'd all get down
And hide underneath our desks
Watch for flying glass
That would shower us all
Duck so we would not get hurt
Think of children gone in ovens
And starving screaming far away
When recess time arrived
Being goofy was not seemly play
2011-04-05 DAY 5 POEM 6 - Breaking News
An earlier report that Minnie Mouse
fifties film star seems to be in error
Ms. Mouse spoke with Barbara Walters
calling into The View
for an exclusive interview
in strong although wavering
signature voice Ms. Mouse
announced from her Bel Aire mansion
that she has retained Raoul Felder and
plans to sue
2011-04-05 DAY 5 POEM 7 - First You Get Goofy
They got the news on one of those late hot Julys
The whole family there in plush icy offices
Smiling with teeth and ten staring skeleton eyes
Watching the door for the coming coat of white
Who came in films under an arm
and said something was not quite right
Smiling as though a family he was not about to rip assunder with harm
A simple error, said he, syllables beyond their wildest belief
pierced the thick shield of ragged collective incipient grief
It happens - just a block in a bile duct the endoscopy clear
No pancreatic cancer here!
As all in concert felt in that icy room the heat thaw through their fear
Mother to son, brother to sister
all to the father/husband center stage sitting a thrust upon starring role mister
Center stage black hair gleam against his barely lined face
yellowed, graying as eggs left too long to age
The air stopped,
each particle
paused
between tears
and cheers
and then together
they all
got goofy -
Six footed brother pointed a toe
and piroutted like a ballet - Why? To this day no one did know
Daughter circle shimmied round her father's chair, kicked up her heel
and pinched herself again and again, pinched herself real
In that plush office they shouted up to the heavens beyond the ceiling did they call
"That folks is all! That folks is all!"
Laughed, and shouted correctly this time again
"Tha...Tha... Tha... THAT'S ALL!"
Then helped their reprieved guy to his feet
shook the docs hand, yes it had been their pleasure to meet
Jabbed the elevator button and giggling quietly falling into one another
Once alone inside as when he was ten fart noises made the attorney brother
Alone together the still until then mother
stuck her tongue out - and they all stuck out their tongues grinning one after the other
So when the doors did open they were flushed and colored high
And stricken beyond despair to see
the having-run-down-six-floors to catch them doctor
waiting there
this time the correct films under his arm
death in hand, tear in steel granite eyes did he bear
2011-04-05 DAY 5 POEM 8 - August Dying
They sat in the still sun bright August room
white sheets upon his bed
crisp in the sun light that seemed
incongrous for him cologned against
his pillows knife creased pajamas lying
against his splayed fingertips
As he looked at his progeny and smiled
and ready all orchestrated closed his eyes.
A moment passed and then another
A jay called outside
Oxygen whooshed
The two year old in mother's arms stirred
And was shushed
the daughter on the bed covered one hand
the son sat on the other edge and covered the other
Together they sang ... Phantom ... The Night...
His face was calm
The song ended
Moments passed, the two-year-old needed to eat said she
A ten-year-old whispered "when?"
The son got up to pee
The daughter's leg began to cramp sitting as a child on knees
The grandmother stared, bit her bottom lip hard enough to bleed and fled
Half hour later he opened his eyes scanned room for the culprit and said
Am I still here, and not yet dead?
(153 words)
2011-04-05 DAY 5 POEM 9 - The Goofiest Joke Of All
Would it not be great
If all the consequences of violence
natural and human-kind hate
was just some sort of Universal
goofy global poke
to waken all the sleeping folk
DAY 6 PROMPT – DON’T _________ __________
2011-04-06 DAY 6 POEM 1 - Don't Look Back
Don't look back
The road ribbons ahead
What lies behind flattened
On the highway so much
Road- kill still and dead
2011-04-06 DAY 6 POEM 2 - Don't Rhyme Always
Don't rhyme all the time
Especially in haiku
Not appropriate
2011-04-07 DAY 6 POEM 3 – Don’t Turn Away
Even if it burns your eyes
and bile rises in your throat
even if you doubt there is
a single thing you can do
Don't turn away
Look, see and remember
If you can point the
way to others
If it is over repeat what you
have seen
You will be able to
If and only if
You
Do not
Look Away
2011-04-07 DAY 6 POEM 4 - Don't Keep Silent
You have the power
Of speech unique
Among species to
Relate, intimately,
Descriptively, the
Entire scope of perception,
Thought, and action,
Imagine, Ponder, Act
Shout, whisper, scream,
Implore, plead, demand
Ask, beg, sing,
Speak in any way
Each according to
The circumstance
It is the Universal mandate
For humanity's gift
Don't Stay Silent
2011-04-07 DAY 6 POEM 5 - Don't Stay Awake
The greatest poem ever read
Is not springing now from this head
As you lie upon your bed
Don't stay awake
( sweet dreams all...)
DAY 7 – PROMPT – WHAT IF…..
2011-04-07 DAY 7 POEM 1 - What If Pigs Really Flew
If pigs really flew
then what would you do
Until....
2011-04-07 DAY 7 POEM 2 - What If Oswald Had Sneezed
What if Oswald, that infamous Lee
Has sneezed or seized and misfired
How might the unspooling ribbon of history
transpired
2011-04-07 DAY 7 POEM 3 - What If Hitler's Mother Had A Headache
What sometime in that July
The synonymous frau had turned
Away, nein my dear please not today
2011-04-07 DAY 7 POEM 4 - What If That Novel Really Did Sell
What if that novel really did sell
What if all did know you well
After so long waiting for the shoe that now fell
What if it were simply calmly, merely, swell
(34 words)
2011-04-07 DAY 7 POEM 5 - What If I Read Before I Wrote
What if I read before I wrote?
Just relaxed and sat where I do sit
Saw Andrew's take on yesterday's spam*
Michael's path so divinely lit
Bruce's hubris and vulnerable Fuchushima
Daniel's Buddah birthday thema
Debra's yesterday's perhaps surreal dreama
What if I read before I wrote?
What if Robin had had a non furry bro or sis or two
What about RC's added syllable and deleted line down haiku?
What if Lori's surprise did not fall?
What if I read before I wrote at all?
Read Marie Elena's " Internet" and those she mused never met
MB's reflections on eternity and grace
and
Hannah, Hannah's sweet sun and the very air's musical dancing face
What if I before I wrote I read?
I think I'd never get out of bed!
With all these and more and Robert's possum dead!
(*The mentioned poets and work are all contributors to Poetic Asides)
DAY 7 POEM 5 – What if there was a PAA
What if there was a PAA
From reading writing and commenting
What if?
Would I really drag myself away?
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I wrote the other night to all that I could possibly include
knowing somehow that this year this ending April would be a difficult interlude
Wrapped in the moon-silvered and glimmering
The sense of collective community a chorus of one voice
Fragmented and in the street still simmering
Whispered on the air, drifting in the soft night breeze
The comfort of the muses rising from each to other singing
Sweet, painful, searing lyrics to each other seizing every soul
Until the street was emptied and all that remained
Were these wispy whispered fragments, shimmering with soft light
As each lingering poet walked ostensibly alone in the darkened lonely night
As the pavement glistened, sole foot-falls rising from the ground
To meet with the others for leaving this place although one bound
Never is actualized, never does occur - once Muses meet and coalesce
Forever vanished, extinguished that existential torment on the street that is a living tapestry
~
Good night to all ...in the knowledge that creativity is a brilliant speck of an incomprehensible vast collective universal oneness...
To De.. who began today... I agree as usual this April somehow more difficult and to MA Dobson - my birthday kindred spirit I will meet you at the waters' edge and into the turquoise depths dive and dissolve..until De and the others come to the ever after and arise in one new form or another on the street, that we have never left. The Street that inspires, sustains, challenges and soothes, the street that is Poetic Asides.
~
We are individuals and and we are one...
Always and forever ...
~
I am not re-reading this... I am at the water's edge - I see MA Dobson and the others in the distance
as I dive...and for an instant disappear...
~