National Poetry Month Celebration 2019 - Post Poems Here!

[Dave]

Arlene

It’s amazing how little it takes to break resistance:
a bubble pushes up through water’s tension,
cat’s paw  propulsion of your favourite lamp,
words not wholly formed rupture all love’s
keen store of good will

and a bullet
punctures flesh at speed,
sucks out all life, making lived of living
even before they write the headlines.

Enmity fractures too, in an instant.
You were so sure you were divided
gather in a circle and hold hands
to make community whole again.

[Vaughn Neeld]

Day 24

Round river rocks, honed
within water's turbulence,
smoothed by fine-grained sands--

rough edges refined and tamed--
eaten by clandestine teeth.

[Lecram06]

Day 24

Round river rocks, honed
within water's turbulence,
smoothed by fine-grained sands--

rough edges refined and tamed--
eaten by clandestine teeth.

Oh the last line "clandestine teeth"! Marcel
 

[Lecram06]

Hi Folks,

I wish I had time to respond to everyone's kind words and to comment and give the accolades you all deserve but we are packing up a household so it's all I can do to get a poem in. I haven't even had time to savor everything but I am looking forward to it. I hope we can keep these up in the archives for more than a month. I am honored to be on the same board with such talent and eloquence. 

I spent way too much time on the following silliness but it was fun. 
~Deb

The Literal Child

Let’s go on a journey into the mind of a precocious child
with an imagination of word notions skipping free and wild.

If a man is an actor and a woman an actress
then why do grownups look alarmed 
when she pauses to profess,
“I want to grow up and be an adulteress!”?

You may see Sir ip slipping down
Pancakes or Cinderella’s gown.

A honey moon is made by bees
sewn inside a buzzing hiding place 
within the swaying trees.

Why doesn’t the shoe horn honk on Daddy’s shoes
when she dances on his heels?
Where does that toe-truck go when she stubs her little toe?
Do toe-trucks get flat tires or have Big Wheels?

Culottes, pronounced cool locks, is a girl with pretty hair.
A hypocrite an old woman who hates hip huggers that flair.
 
A cucumber, or cue comer is just some silly man
who comes over to play pool and drink her uncle’s beer.
Guerilla warfare in the summer, apes say, “Catch me if you can.”
They’re the real gorillas on the news in man masks and headgear.

A bald eagle is a poor, old bird 
with no feathers on his head.
And babysitters sit on babies
until they’re almost dead.

Pressurizers are teachers that press eyeballs
shut on little kids that always talk.
Cowlicks are caused by cow licks
and we all know the moon can’t walk.

Apparently, is a parent named, Lee.
There’s no need to explain, explain
because it's plain to see.

Portray was the cafeteria food the poor kids got
that she hoped she’d never get.
But if she ever got one, she would not throw a fit

A comment is supposed to be a mint
that calms you down
except when taken by the grumpy grocer,
then it’s the other way around.

To translate means you were lost along the way
and that’s the reason why you’re late,
but now you know and it’s okay.
An eyesore is probably a sty. 
And a detailer takes off tails
but she hasn’t reasoned why.

A body shop is where people go for casts and stitches.
A picnic on the beach is where you’ll likely find sand witches.
Perfume is the smell a cat makes when it purrs as it whispers.
Antagonize is the agonizing aunt with sharp chin whiskers.

Now her play time's over, she must get back to her chores
to sweat out all these goofy rhymes and cleans them from her pours.


~Deb

 

Deb, You have a children's book in this delightful poem. Find an illustrator and you have a best seller. Marcel
 

[Lecram06]

30 ways to die.
#24

Heaven's above and
Hell is below, waiting 
to absorb us,
but which way is down?

My feet aren't sure,
as the Earth rotates
Hell's location alters.
They say there's little
separating my pinkies 
and eternal torment.

There have been times
I've wished the ground
would open
and swallow me up...or
is that down?
Standing on stage
microphone in hand
as my lines
dissolve into the ether.

I've 'died' many times, but
fewer as time goes on,
I'm getting better.

There'll be no dress rehearsal 
for the real one
but I won't mind
it'll almost be like
meeting
an old friend.









 

You remeind me that there will be no "dress" at all. Naked we will be. Marcel

[indar]

Dave--As always, your writing takes very thoughtful reading. One of my favorites, "#21, "man afloat" is a fine example of "the richness of ambiguity", mysterious, intriguing, profound.

Deb, As I said on "the other" forum, this needs to be an illustrated book--but for grown-ups--we need more fun in our lives like this.

Colm, So many statements in your #24 brought a smile, e.g. the distance between pinkies and hell; the idea that heaven or hell absorbs--as if no earthly act determines which it will be, only where the proximity of the wandering axis of either are at "that moment". The entire body of your 30 ways is wonderful--stare it down I say and that's what you're doing.

Lisa, I love your "old pictures" poem. I find myself wondering more and more about people who occupied some important space in my life but who have drifted. Suddenly I want to know how their lives continued to play out. I also love the line others have mentioned---the faded pages--poignant.

So much wonderful writing---so little time to comment.

[ajduclos]

Dave, Deb, Marcel, Colm, Vaughn, Indar, Gyppo, Lisaeagle, DocCom, and the missing Tracy - I am so lucky and filled with joy and wonder to be in your midst, to read your amazing poetry.  I am thankful for your comments on my meager offerings. 
 
Day 24

                                                                                    GREY 

                                                                              black     white
                                                                              red        green
                                                                              right      wrong
                                                                              good      bad
 

agree
dismiss
simple
clear 

this is how it is
all neatly placed in their boxes
appropriately ordered and shelved
properly labeled and stowed
safely closeted 

clear and final
fixed
no confusion
all settled
painful thought not required
avoids hesitation
at peace with perceived certainty 

Does no one care anymore
for the space between the poles
where resides everything of relevance
everything not absolute
everything
where the relevance of everything
awaits thought and inquiry
where life and truth and doubt
and fear and warmth
and possibilities
Exist? 

The universe of grey
beckons exploration
offers up the unknown
and the frightening
houses the unsettling
kindles doubt
nudges an awakening 

Grey

    

[indar]

painful thought not required

Indeed Aj, this is the crux of the issue to my reading. It should almost be the title of the poem. I am hoping to go through the entire 30 day effort and look at the poems of single writers in turn. Many, such as your brother's triolets and Colm's 30 ways to die will be interesting to see in total as will what I have come to think of as your "shape poems". All deserve to be taken as complete bodies of work.

[ajduclos]

painful thought not required

Indeed Aj, this is the crux of the issue to my reading. It should almost be the title of the poem. I am hoping to go through the entire 30 day effort and look at the poems of single writers in turn. Many, such as your brother's triolets and Colm's 30 ways to die will be interesting to see in total as will what I have come to think of as your "shape poems". All deserve to be taken as complete bodies of work. 

Hi Indar - I agree that Marcel's triolets definitely should be looked at as body of work, as definitely Tracy's should and Colm death poems.  My "shape poems" - good name for them... I found that how a poem lays on a page can have a huge influence on how it is read, interpreted.  Not sure yesterday's dreaded limerick fits that description, tho.
I would have liked this exercise of April poems to have been set up so that there is a thread for each writer's stuff.  Perhaps next year ?
Hang in there...
Aj 
 

[Gyppo]

AJ,
You have no idea just how much I've delighted in telling my family and friends that a Frenchman whom I've never actually met has written a song inspired by one of my poems.

There seems to have a been a fair bit of cross-pollination of ideas and themes this year.  It's good to see.

Yet we all have our own very distinctive way of doing things.

Gyppo