Monthly Archives: April 2012

NaPoWriMo Day 9

by
One of Three 
He couldn’t have come
at a more inconvenient time.
I wasn’t ready.
The boxes weren’t even unpacked.
I thought I’d be safe,
I was wrong.With one long breath, he blew.
It wasn’t strong, just long.

He blew.

Not gale force, just long
sustained, until
like a dandelion puff exploding
I stood in the center
of my life raining down upon me.

Bits of dry stalks colored the sky
with a golden glow, then
coming to rest, covering
my floor, the boxes
my feet.

It was then I could see
the flame of his demon eyes.
Drool dripping from his
glistening fangs.

I should have listened,
heeded my brother’s warning.
But I would be the Scarecrow of Oz
bravely nestled into my straw.
I would be the greenest of three
reusing what the farmer deemed chaff,
even though there is no chaff in straw,
only remnants for the cows,
sopping for the horses.

Of this I would make my house
to keep me warm in winter,
cool when the summer sun
made its yearly visit.

And I would be preserved
in my new abode,
my house made of straw
until…

.
.
.
Author’s Note
Today’s prompt from NaPoWriMo was to write a persona poem. We were asked to do a monologue of a person in history or mythical, just someone who we are not.

NaPoWriMo Day 7

by

Full Moon

I don’t see
the night sky, not the way he does
he points here and there
explaining once again and
I forget, not because it isn’t important
but because I don’t see
the way he does
Driving home tonight I saw
your face, yellow moon
rising above the road
between the slice of rolling hills
so large I wanted to stop
to keep you forever
It’s perspective he said
It looks bigger when it is next
to an object we understand
like the cars in front of us
We kept moving
no one stopped
red taillights marking the
way to you,  your full moon arms
and no one stopped


NaPoWriMo – Day 5

by

Cenacle

A minaret curves over
bricks stacked and smoothed
designating a holy place
a place for Allah
 
Beneath the dome
an empty room, but for a memory
a meal once taken near the end
a place for Jesus
 
Beneath the upper room
an empty tomb, but for a memory
a king who sang and slew a giant
a place for David
 
Why do we need a dome
an empty room or a tomb
to revel in Your holiness
 
Can we not look
in the waters of the Jordan
to see Your face
 
Can we not stand on Sinai’s heights
to feel Your breath
in the wind
 
Can we not gaze at night
above the sands to realize
Your magnificence
 
Why can’t we look in a mirror
and know You are there
 
We must own You
You become something
we must hold in our hand
then we must fight to keep You
 
Do You smile at our folly
or are You saddened by our greed
does your heart break
with our bravado
 
I release my hold
I do not need to covet
a counterfeit copy of You
 
I will come to know You
I will hold a mirror in my hand
see within me a perfect part of You
 
I will gaze
into the eyes of others
and see Your smile
 
I will walk in the sun
and affirm the majesty
of Your creation
 
 
 
 
 
 
Author’s Note:
My drive to school this morning gave me fodder for today’s poem. NPR Morning Edition related a story for this Holy Thursday. Seems Jewish leaders and my Catholic leaders are arguing over ownership of a building. The Cenacle is the place of contention being once a Muslim holy place, and currently a holy place for the other two groups.
 
The story saddened me knowing that a “thing” is causing such grief. And, I’m sure, a lot of money for everyone involved. This just adds to my disillusionment with organized religions and their rules and need for possession. We all have the answer. We all have been given incredible Holy Men who we don’t listen to. We forget or ignore them and then have to fight over a building because it is a “holy” place.

I missed writing a poem yesterday. The day was just not long enough. Please visit NaPoWriMo for inspiration. Or take a look at some of the others who are writing together this month with me!

NaPoWriMo – Day…

by

NaPoWriMo – Day 3

 Image
 
Image
 
 
 
I Painted A Picture
 
 
I painted a picture
Disappointed
I painted again
When the canvass
Sagged with grief
And dripped in melancholy
I scrapped away the colors
I found my peace
In the shadow
Of the pigment
Where I began

 
 
Author’s Note:
Tonight Leroy and I painted. We played at watercolors and drank some wine.  Mine always end up as a wash. I am never happy and want to see what happens if I just “smooth it out.” Above is the picture I painted and it inspired tonight’s poem. I like it.
 
I scanned the painting and then used Picnik to add the text.
 
Please visit Adriene where you will find some wonderful poems as well as a link to other poets who are writing a poem everyday during the month of April forNaPoWritMo.

NaPoWRiMo – DAY 2

by

Breath                                                                        

Do not languish on your voyage as memories are made of this
A simple promise of lavender breath, silk slipping to the floor
A drop of wine, a garden path, the loosening of my bodice
Do not languish on your voyage as memories are made of this
A tender kiss and gentle touch, a pair never to dismiss
So stay your course upon the waters and soon you’ll be ashore
Do not languish on your voyage as memories are made of this
A simple promise of lavender breath, silk slipping to the floorImage

Author’s Note:
Today’s prompt from NaPoWriMo 2012 was to find the song that was number one on the charts on the day you were born and use it in any form or any piece of it to write your poem. My song is Memories Are Made of This by Dean Martin. I didn’t listen to it before I wrote the poem, only after. I guess there’s only so much you can do with a title like that.
However, I didn’t get a chance to write using yesterday’s idea. It was to write a triolet. It is a rhymed poem in the form of ABaAabAB. The NaPoWriMo site gives examples and I wanted to try my hand at it.
So, the above poem is a triolet based on the song that was number one on the charts on the day I was born.