These are the 30 poems I wrote during National Poetry Writing Month, 2020. (NaPoWriMo)
Harry slept flat,
sprawled like a flokati rug
wafting black fluff with every sigh,
sending little doggy love letters
into the creases of our lives.
Slow, and steadfast,
his only flamboyance was his tail,
semaphoring satisfaction.
He preferred pizza to play,
resting to fetching
He was more pillow than playmate
Doggy devotion embodied.
Prompt: Think about dogs you have known, seen, or heard about, and then use them as a springboard into wherever they take you.
I’ve held the earth and sky in grateful arms
and felt a summer zephyr’s golden glow
amidst the grip of freezing winter sleet.
A gift, a glimpse, of heaven’s unveiled charms,
as rare and fleet as taste of early snow;
Born in awe of tiny rosy feet
and rosebud hands, unfurling pink and dewed.
I held him close and examined each wee toe
and stoked his pearly ears and downy cheek
Embracing radiant life so fresh and new
soft, slow kiss hello
A sure cure for my insomnia
Is to hear about your long, drawn-out interminable dream
in glorious, boring, snoring dragging, droning,detail.
I’ll gaze at you, eyes wide, lips parted,
oozing interest,
But, happily for me,
My brain will seize that opportune, protracted, uninvited, and
unexpected moment
to secretly snooze.
Please relieve me of your dreams.
Those enigmatic, incomprehensible, unfathomable memories of sleep.
Don’t expect me to suspend my disbelief
and join you in your schitzy visit
to the land of inscrutable underwear,
or watch your mother absurdly turn into a bird
Dreams may confuse you, amuse you, infuse you with glee
But they only induce me
to sleep
Don’t invite me there,
don’t share
because,
believe me,
I simply don’t care.
Prompt: Write a poem about something you have absolutely no interest in.
Scene, camera pans:
The sky dominates the eye
endless blue, qauzy wisps of clouds strewn high and thin.
The only structure interrupting the vastness
is the glassy black control tower,
cumbrous in this flat landscape.
The tarmac is matte black and dotted with tiny planes
Toy-like, they are long-winged, and snub-nosed.
Flashes of summer sun glinting off their propellers
give the scene a brief feel of the beach.
Action: the camera zooms in on a green striped plane, barely wide enough to seat two,
Long-limbed, summer blond,
the flight instructor slams the passenger door, nods briefly
and strolls away to wait in the flight office.
{FIRST SOLO flashes on screen.}
A close-up of the pilot reveals a gawky 16 year old girl
holding a slip of paper labeled “Cessna 150 Checklist” in trembling fingers.
Squinting, she adjusts switches, turns knobs, peruses the instrument panel.
She chants,”Mixture rich, carburetor heat cold, radios off, master switch on, open throttle, clear prop!”
and the engine roars suddenly to life,
shattering the quiet and sending a cawing crow soaring.
Closeup camera: the plane is vibrating, idling on the huge painted 6 at the end of the runway, prop spinning,
Inside the cockpit, the pilot sits erect, tense, almost holding her breath.
We hear “Two-six whisky, cleared for takeoff”
Then the film goes silent.
Point-of-view camera inside the cockpit, as though seated in the passenger seat
Baby blue sky,
yellow sun,
Cotton clouds.
Yellow sun,
Blue sky
Forgotten clouds
Color and light dance together
then fly apart.
A whirling twirling
kaleidoscope of movement.
Green below
Blue above
And in between,
a winged, breathing thing
Flight
Fade-out to white.
Well Hell….
The irony is not lost to me
That I am blocked by negativity
-And forced into inactivity -
By conceiving this verse on positivity
It would certainly be nice
If I could take my advice
To nurture my dreams
and believe in my schemes
To conquer adversity
With joyful intensity
So, please, I beg your sympathy
To negate this growing antipathy
To embracing, heart a-blazing
The knowledge that Everything Will be amazing
Recipe for a Wee Moment of Glee
Ingredients:
Eager hands of assorted toddlers
A smudge of a smidge of glue
One pinch - just a glimmer- of glitter- (fairy dust, if you must)
A sequin or two
Add one loud dash of fun
preferably, If available,
A bold splash of sun.
For best results,
Keep portions petite -
let the toddlers practice their pincer-grip,
So they begin nice and neat.
Process: (not product, if you please)
Stand back - let the wee ones take the lead.
Now smear the glue -just a dab or two-
Behold the glimmer
as they examine the glitter,
Minutely, acutely,
to find the sparkliest bits,
(be patient, they will be mesmerized by glitz)
Then, with a swirl of hands to a count of three,
It’s time to sprinkle, release the magic twinkle-
Wheee!
Prompt: Write a poem about a very small thing.
Earth lies heavily upon my eyes
Until I raise my gaze aloft
and trace the trajectory of her branches
that achieve the sky, cathedral high.
Buoyant in their reach,
and massive in their sweep,
they traverse my window panes
overspreading the sky.
And I, petite beneath their verdant reach
Find ancient endless breathing peace.
Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting To feel that waking is another sleep Blind go the days, but joy will see Wh...
