Friday, October 16, 2015

2015 OctPoWriMo #16: Barrettes

Barrettes and carefully curved fingers,
the little girl cringes
her chords.

She is afraid of her teacher.

Barrettes and carefully cupped cheeks,
the young woman lets lips

She is afraid he will laugh.

Barrettes and carefully cleared mind,
the woman fills pages
with poems.

She is afraid of them.

Barrettes and carefully curved spine,
the old woman is waiting
to die.

She is afraid.

Poet's Note:  The prompt suggested a paradelle...but I'm way too tired tonight for a paradelle.  So I'm posting this simpler style poem instead.  I wrote it earlier this month.  Goodnight everybody.

Thursday, October 15, 2015

2015 OctPoWriMo #15: On a Day without Consequence

On a Day without Consequence

I would find the swings,
metal rings
and the rubbered sling
of a seat.

I would scuff my feet,
sneakers neat
advance, retreat
to the sky.

And maybe this time
learn to fly.

Poet's Note:  The prompt...what would you do on a day without consequence?  There were so many possibilities with this prompt...but I have missed swings...the feel of the wind on my cheeks, the pinch of the chains suspending, the pump of my feet

Wednesday, October 14, 2015

2015 OctPoWriMo #14: The Bridge

The Bridge

It’s one of those bridges,
a rickety suggestion
of rope, secured
either end
by hope
and maybe
a nail, a tenpenny
leftover rusted through
and ready to fail.

I cling, I claw,
palms raw, uncertain
how I ended up here,
a thread away

blue, misted hues
of unknown depth.
Is it water?  Or is the
ground too far away
for eye to find it.

Behind, the
echoes of the girl
I was - toddler, tween
and twenty - eyes
shut and shaking

The rope

self rises
from chest
to leave me
with all the rest.

When the rope snaps,
we fall.

fingers once mine 
tuck a tenpenny 
nail into pocket.
and my feet
without me.

Poet's Note:  The prompt was the bridge from yesterday to today.

Tuesday, October 13, 2015

2015 OctPoWriMo #13: Risk of Alliteration

Risk of Alliteration

Just do it already
Just pick up the pen
Pen a masterpiece,
Pen a poem
Poem lucked to the page
Poem plucked like a plum
Plum snapping black
Plum pulsing heat
Heat of the sun
Heat of my fingers
Fingers fondling the flesh
Fingers finding the rare imperfection
Imperfection of worm
Imperfection of tooth
Tooth glancing the surface
Tooth and lip pressed to the promise
Promise of the raw and the red
Promise of truth
Truth if there is such a thing
Truth the hard gnarled pit
Pit of a plum
Pit of my stomach
Stomach too full too round
Stomach rebound
Rebound from strife
Rebound from life
Life – the constant push
Life – the rearview second guessing
Guessing how many jelly beans in the jar
Guessing how far they might take us
Take us halfway to Florida
Take us farther, up the beanstalk
Stalk the stars
Stalk that empty space
Space between word and wonder
Space the final question
Question – is life limited to humanity
Question – is life limited to god
God of the Bible
God of self
Less a lie than it started
Less a truth than once thought
Thought I’d have it figured out by now
Thought I’d own myself outright
Outright declare myself
Outright dare myself a poet

Poet's Note:  The day's prompt revolved around the risks we are willing to take for/with our writing...combined with a blitz poem.  Blitz poems, in my limited experience, tend to go there you go...

Monday, October 12, 2015

2015 OctPoWriMo #12: Reflections

                -An alphabetical brainstorm…on bees

Aerial adventures, the
Bumbling bravado of bees
Clumsy crash the windshield,
Debate death,
Examine the edges,
Find the seams, the
Glimmer gleam of self in glass.
“Huzzah!  Huzzah!” the hirsute creatures’
Invocation to the interior
Justifies their
Killing, a
Limited liability for
Man - molded in multiples and
Nonplused by the notion
Of ‘other,’ of equal,
Pride of place pulsing in veins
Quiet with the habit of living, veins
Rich with reason unchallenged,
Skin unblemished, skin
Tender and as yet
Valor is easy in such circumstance.
We assume it with our

Poet's Note:  The ABC poem!  I haven't done an ABC poem in...years!  This may be sort of random...but I decided to just go with it!  Woohoo!

Sunday, October 11, 2015

2015 OctPoWriMo #11: 36 Years

36 Years

I have managed 36 years
and all the tears
and near
possibility they contained.

That is all.

That is enough.

Poet's Note:  The prompt...what have you accomplished...

Saturday, October 10, 2015

2015 OctPoWriMo #10: A Song for Merricat

A Song for Merricat
-or maybe this is for Constance

The piano pushes the rhythm,
in the swells, in the diminishing moments,
the notes laid out in pulsing precision
as we huddle ruined in the house
hidden and hushed
with scavenged sugar bowls
and memories we neither one
will mention.  I am waiting for mushrooms
and you are waiting for something sweeter like
macerated blackberries bubbled in pie
and browned at the edges
except I am not allowed to cook
and you are not allowed to give up
the lie.  I have buried that hope
with all the rest
within your breast
and there you will keep it,
and love me.

Poet's Note:  The prompt was wildness.  We were encouraged to dance, to take a bubble bath, to let loose.  Well, before I even read the prompt, I had managed the bubble bath and the dancing both (I am a notoriously uncoordinated dancer...and thus keep it to those odd private moments when I've got Pandora pumping out the music and...yeah...very glad no one could see).  

The other thing I did today was read Shirley Jackson's We Have Always Lived In The Castle while - by pure coincidence - eating a sugared blackberry sundae...totally added to the atmosphere in reading, let me tell you.  But, anyway, long story short...the book was lingering in my head as I sat to write and I had this really awesome piano music going...and this happened.  

Maybe it's not quite as wild as the prompt asked...but it's what I got from my day.  Book totally should have had an epilogue where Constance serves Merricat a mushroom omelet....just saying.

Friday, October 9, 2015

2015 OctPoWriMo #9: From My Hometown

From my hometown
-a never-ending summer

The cement shatters
at footsteps -- a handful,
a hundred, hundred thousand
come and gone  --  
by time and weight
and the pressing need
to move on
toward something

I know the heat
did not break the foundation,
nor lack of water pull sweat from
my bones.  Still, the chin tips
and still the hand lifts
shield from the burning sun.

And I pray, one voice --  
with a handful,
with a hundred, with more --  
for the drizzling ease
of cloud wrung to breeze
wisping and long-since done.

Poet's Note:  The prompt was the "elements" which makes me think of water which makes me think of drought which is every day and...yeah.

2015 OctPoWriMo #8: The Girl, Fresh from Bathing

The Girl, Fresh from Bathing

Grasp the golden sheets
and lay the bed
Rich dreams follow.

Poet's Note:  The prompt...color.  Can you guess I am tired?  And looking forward to bed?

Wednesday, October 7, 2015

2015 OctPoWriMo #7: Two Roads but I am not

Two roads but I am not the traveler
nor the sentry at the gate.  I am
one tree of many
rooted deep,
the unseen parts of
self unfurling in the dark,
easing into earth and permanence
of bedrock, reaching for the warmth of magma. 

It rises up, echoes heat, the pulsing beat
of a heart contained. 

My hands rustle
into cloud, make shadow
shapes against the sun, shelter space
where travelers – tired from their travails –
pause to eat.  They pass bread
and butter and laugh
at the realization of fingers. 

I watch them eat, butter-slick lips
stretched to smiles, puckered to kisses.

I taste worms and sunlight.

They etch themselves into my skin, and
leave me
                                to remember.

Whichever the road,
they will not.

Poet's Note:  A poem about the choices we do not regret...

Tuesday, October 6, 2015

2015 OctPoWriMo #6: On Courage

on courage

the brave abandon
promises, grasp the bloody
organ feeds passion

live life.

Poet's Note:  The prompt.  Freedom and courage.  What do we wish was different?  A counted syllable poem.  This is what happened for me.

Monday, October 5, 2015

2015 OctPoWriMo #5: What Passes Between

What Passes Between

We fold our words
on lined paper
in pencil
we’ve etched
into the grooves,
smudged with finger
and thumb and the careless
exercise of habit.  They are ordinary
words like “please” and “maybe”
and “overmuch.”  You make
fun of me for the last
but trade it back to me
over lunch trays
and diet cola.

We don’t need the
words anymore, or the paper.
We pass them between us,
no longer needing to
open the page
nor read.

We know them
by heart,
and repeat.

Poet's Note:  Prompt #5.  Relationships.

Sunday, October 4, 2015

2015 OctPoWriMo #4: And With The Witch's Heart

And With The Witch’s Heart

The fairy flits
within her cage,
rage fading
her temperate blue
to the dull gray hue
of a breaking,
the aching pulse
of lightning

Through bars of bone,
eyes dried to stone,
she watches:
men cower, the power
of the witch’s heart
beside her
the steady beat
of doom.

Poet's Note:  Today's prompt...magic!  I love this prompt!  And magic!  And I know what I was going for here...but who knows if it came through.  Leave me a note...tell me what you think!  :-)

Saturday, October 3, 2015

2015 OctPoWriMo #3: Skull


Crack the skull! 
Peel back the flap of
skin, its wrinkles, its
worry, the slurry
of a day’s

Then set the drill
to hard white bone.

The drone diminishes distinction.

Poet's Note:  The prompt was a poem constructed from a freewrite on the topic of what keeps us from the page.  I did the freewrite...but the poem did its own thing.  Can't say there's much in there from the freewrite...but the freewrite got the brain going in this direction.  

Friday, October 2, 2015

2015 OctPoWriMo #2: The Album

The Album

I have all my beginnings before me,
the wheatful fields of Kansas
the sunburnt canvas
to photographs,
rewind the flush of summer

Poet's Note:  Don't try to connect this one to the prompt.  The muse is stubborn and was fixed on Kansas.  Go figure.  

Thursday, October 1, 2015

2015 OctPoWriMo #1: CLOUD

2015 OctPoWriMo #1:  CLOUD

Loud the light
On misted edge
Under cumulus ledge
Defy its cover

Poet's Note:  I wasn't going to do OctPoWriMo again.  I'm busy right now.  Work wears.  I'm wanting to get serious about certain fiction endeavors.  And I've done OctPoWriMo for...3 years?  Surely, 3 years is sufficient.  But then I looked up and it was...October 1.

And I couldn't resist.

That said, I'm racing to get this in...the prompt was clouds...with a suggestion for an Acrostic and...I'm not generally fond of Acrostics.  So, of course, I must do one.

That's how my brain works.

If you want to check out the other poets (you should), I'm sure you'll find some fun stuff...and probably at least a few other acrostic endeavors...which are probably much more polished than this