Forever

Sometimes, things happen in life that truly truly make you thankful for every day. I’ve been 46 + years now with the love of my life — and we are grateful for every day in this “rejuvenatement” period of our lives  (see my About for an explanation of the term). This poem was motivated by a poetry class assignment:  look very very closely at things around you and write about something you want to save from oblivion.  The mind jumps around and makes various connections, the pen writes, scratches out, and writes again…and this is the result.

Forever

Two gulls skitter about the shore’s edge
leaving track upon track, their dance notation.
Voices sound cacophonous shrills
wings flap, contract, and flap again.

IMG_4004Two children skip, swinging hand in hand
suddenly unjoin. Side by side, in unison
arms wide, they leap and jump
like gulls ahead who splash, lift and soar.

Waves rollick and return, out and always in.
Sea, animals, and children seen in twos
assault my oneness, so recently assumed
etched into being, sears and spills my tears.

Hands rest upon this familiar rail
seek coolness from the seasons’ heat
instead, send chills from hand to heart
my body, an eclipse of the sun.

Let go the rail. Come stand with me, my love
your life, not death, forever.

Blur

Last day of challenge to write a poem every day during April, National Poetry Writing Month.   FYI:  will be taking a hiatus from the blog until Monday, May 4.  Taking a trip to visit family and slip into my mom and grandmom roles. Please do join me again on Monday!!  Happy weekend to all and congratulations to all my fellow poets who completed the NaPoWriMo challenge!

Blur

She lives on a merry-go-round
senses dulled by blurred vision
maniacal calliope music
takes her nowhere every day
mired in circle sameness.

She chose the blue horse
its golden mane rich in gilt
matched her lust then shocked
her as its cold cylindrical pole
ignored her calls to stop.

He rides two steeds behind her
eyes wild, hair disheveled
desperately out of synch
up down to her down up
gains no ground moving still.

Hot desire fuels
his mad useless pursuit
anchored by metal plates
bolted to the wildly
spinning floor.

Summer’s Delights

NaPoWriMo  April 29  and  Photo Challenge to share a photograph that captures motion and tell the story behind it.  Several summers ago we were delighted to have our daughter and grandchildren join us for a weekend in Provincetown. Oh the joys and innocence of childhood!

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Summer’s Delights

Apple tree blossoms in curly hair
knocked off their branches
during the morning climb
by scraped and knobby knees.

Sidewalks with white chalk not snow
crooked squares and wiggly numbers
smudged by hop scotch jumps
and dripping lime popsicles.

Seaside escapades scented by Coppertone
childhood tag at water’s edge
joy forever captured in portraits
of red-brown freckles on sun flushed cheeks.

Come Walk This Lane

NaPoWriMo Day 28:  no prompt

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Come Walk This Lane

We travel the road with smiles and song
two seniors, a little girl, and giggles galore.

Slowed by aging knees and cataracts
our steps hesitate on uneven ground.

Her six year prance, skips and tugs
a young colt straining against its reins.

Hands seasoned with brown age spots
grasp fingers fresh from popsicle licking.

The wheels on the bus go round and round
segways to Knock knock. Who’s there?

Elephants! Suddenly we’re swaying
makeshift trunks and holding tails.

Beware! Silliness is contagiously infectious
in close proximity to grandchildren.

Loss

NaPoWriMo April 25. Without Prompt.

Loss

Eyes droop heavy
tear salt encrusted lashes
stare forward unseeing.

Throat gags trying to escape
the cloying flower scent
preserved in artificial cold air.

Silent screams inaudible
smothered in the cacophony
of shushing hushing voices.

Hands folded, cold
should be warm in mine
swinging down our lane.

Comprehension dawns
sun shines out of synch
with the ending of our days.

From Boston, Paul Revere, Take Notice!

NaPoWriMo  Writing Prompt:   it’s the eighteenth of April, the 240th anniversary of the midnight ride of Paul Revere.  In keeping with the theme of rush and warning, write a poem that involves an urgent journey and an important message.

Boston marathoners
poised and ready again
take over streets
race their way
to a 21st century
interpretation
of words you once lived.
Boston Strong

A time to remember those killed in the Boston Marathon bombing, pay tribute to first responders on that day of pain and resolution, and praise the indomitable human spririt that rises in the face of evil.  

Sole Soul View

NaPoWriMo   Day 13 is to write a riddle poem.  Three descriptive clues/views of the same thing — very pedestrian!

1.
Every day
on floor carpet sidewalk
step briskly to corner office
tap below glass-top desk
by floor to ceiling window
sealed shut to the soul.

2.
Move forward upward onward
stretch tall to top shelf
where dusty books and what-ifs lie
walk run tip on toes
ready-set-go
limp across today’s finish line.

3.
Climb berber covered stairs

to suite with rose trellised paper
quickly untied unshod slip between
slick and silken sheets nuzzling her toes his mates
meeting hopefully so late again this night
like last and last and last.

Prism + Palinode

NaPoWriMo

Day 8 National Poetry Writing Month Prompt is to write a palinode: defined as when a poet retracts a statment made in an earlier poem.  Prism was previously posted under One Sentence Poems. Posting these just under the wire today.

If you’ve not seen my Sunrise Return to Sweden, published this morning — please do scroll down and take a peek — one of my favorites.

 

Prism
When I’m asked, How do you see the world?
I squint a bit under the bright light
looking for the crimson of her scarf
and answer, Through a kaleidoscope.

Palinode
As she slips through the crowd
not acknowledging me again,
I clear my throat and add,
But mostly as a labyrinth.

Monday’s Promise

April is National Poetry Writing Month.  NaPoWriMo 2015 is a challenge to write a poem every day in April.  Today’s prompt:  write an aubade – a morning poem….perhaps about love, perhaps about Monday.  

Monday’s Promise

Last night’s shooting star
carried my wish
streaking across the sky
someone listening
outside our universe
promised me
tranquility and love
in yesterday’s tomorrow.