May 2020 Poetry Challenge - Are You In?
Ms. Haiku
Washington DC Posts: 7,270
I thought of this today, which is why I'm late to the April-Poetry Month celebration. Who is up for a month of writing? Onward to May 2020
There is no such thing as leftover pizza. There is now pizza and later pizza. - anonymous
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
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I’m in. This is a good idea. Something creative to do during this social distancing isolation!
I'll wait to hear my accomplishments
instead of expecting them at my funeral.
This life is stretched taffy, pliable,
playful and suck-worthy delicious.
Wading in my thoughts are second
guesses without law as I am
a follower of no leader. Grounded,
my greatest payment is returning
from the poisoned water of heartbreak.
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
and suck-worthy delicious.
Love it! Thanks for sharing!
The long drawal of a car
breaks this Saturday afternoon.
The cardinals exhale sunshine
as I remain indoors.
There is conversation blight
as if we, the humans strapped down
our tongues and cornered small-talk
with loaded fear. We know why there is fear.
It is 2020, a year steeping inflamed.
I envy the afternoon train its call.
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
Ms Haiku, I'll put mine in this thread too.
May 2nd
Like lettuce leaves tossed
today’s been a bit mixed
coffee and music lessons betwixt
Face Time, Skype and Teams
cats on my feet or crossing the screens
at least we can meet
at least they can learn
that’s a blessing these days
out the window, the mowers are busy
the men in the yards up and down the block
their lawns have rarely looked this good!
after lunch, I gather my courage
I don my mask to pick up supplies
while at the store, I see 2 distinct groups
the concerned people with covered faces
and the killers
the risk-everyone-elsers
is that too harsh?
as of today, there are over 60,000 dead
it’s too much for the dummy to wear a mask at the store?
but I don’t want to hang onto the anger…
I came home with the groceries
and took a nap with the cats
Freedom is stilled speed, empty like ice,
holding pain like another's unheard gasp.
Curiosity is released. Someone else's shadow is lighted.
The longest fingers of trees cut through the earth, push up sidewalks
and touch the sun. We miss that when flying as we would unclasp the push up
to morning and its fanning brilliance.
Maybe wings only choose yes and no, and we fly hugged
in overcoats anchored by pocket watches. Bounded in
our pain slowly clicks away.
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
Working at the house
I'm climbing that mountain of papers at the end of the semester
grading, grading, grading...
it means sitting by the screen in a chair!
hardly moving, discomfort, tingling impatience, hours at a time
as a child I was a fidgeter
picture the adult, squirming to stay put
by afternoon, I need to get out and move
rain or no rain,
I'm going out!
bright blue polka dot umbrella in hand
I'm walking on our country road
the friendly creeks and flowers jostle me, they wake me up
mist on the hillside, grey drizzle
now I feel calm
legs moving, I feel at home
Some thoughts about memory
Anytime beyond this moment is a memory. That’s the truth of it. We remember yesterday, we remember last week, we remember last month. If we have a good memory, we can remember far back in time…
Some days and times get caught in photos or on video, and they seem a bit more real because we can see them captured. In our minds, we have some memories like tapes, but they are less reliable. Vivid, joyous, painful, searing memories seem to last longer than mundane days. This is just the way it is.
Shared memories can last longer. A spouse or an old friend can be an extra memory bank: “Do you remember when we went to…?” “Who was that person we met that time?” A spouse’s memory may be as inaccurate as your own, or it may be better. People we’ve known a long time can support our memories and supplement them too.
AJA sidestrokes over the grounded pile of books and weaves
towards an open window. The wind picks up with the piano.
The voices become the heels clicked three times,
as the leaves shake. The song jumps up
into drums and saxophone as the branches rock
in quarter-circles. They push the wind across
my table, but Steely Dan meets it at the frame.
Both sides shush before the next rush
of gossip and lullabies.
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
A maze of numbers structured like uniformed soldiers
display a cultural truth. They can't be spies,
yet, in theory regal as an absolute truth.
Digits are tossed against possibilities
and snuffed into the carpet bag
of the Fool.
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
May 5, 2020
I think the animals enjoy the stay-at-home orders most
at all hours, we are near
the only thing they probably miss is the "goodbye" treat ritual
the clowder has adapted to the change
they've been strutting, tails held high
or lounging belly up in ecstasy
even racing up and down the stairs!
they follow me from room to room
my four furry companions
May 6th
I turn off the orange man's press show
as uncouth and unclean as a peep-show huckster
he brags and lies and spreads disease
revolting emissions fly out of his bullhorn throat
"You could try bleach, maybe it'll work"
"This will all just fade away...I have a good feeling about this..."
the evil leader is all about hiding the truth, the vandalization of facts
and the dominance of greed and corruption
I can't watch it!
he's not speaking to me
Hope lasts many years even if I sit on it. It bounces in emerald
like an exercise ball, and rolls away quick after a kick.
Abandoned hope hurts my hands with paper welts and loud noises
that shock like the black veil of a stroke.
Hope blooms healed strobes in hallways before unbolted doors.
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
7 May 2020
Life is moments split between image-worthy and valueless. We remember the stories told in photo albums organized in the correct order. The picture of the first steps before the prom photos.
I have photo albums in a cardboard box routinely used by the recently laid-off. I remember the life, but I haven't seen the pictures in over 15 years; the Grand Canyon layers, the bushes of flowers in front of a Seattle library. The mirrors of my industry announcing I was there, or at least, places did exist.
When I throw the photo albums away the air at the Grand Canyon will lighten, and the roses in Seattle will boomerang up with the removed weight of my temporary awareness. The time of my life no one need to know will be a possible truth, only, when I am acknowledged in past-tense.
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
LOL!
There have been moments in my life when women surprise me by imitating something I’ve done. These instances have come up sometimes when I’m just living my life, trying to get by, unaware of them.
One odd example was the piano student (years ago) who out of the blue decided to have a baby because I did. Or, the friend who within weeks remodeled her kitchen and yard because I’d changed mine. Then there was the time that a work colleague changed her hair to be like mine after I had radically chopped off my long hair. None of these things were done with them in mind but I couldn’t help noticing that they were following me and this bewildered me...
cardinal
shakes without flying
afternoon storm
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
Perhaps I need to figure out how to write about dark topics? I’ve been thinking about movies like Elysium and In Time and now this Snow Piercer ad I’ve been seeing. All these movies portraying the dramatic gap between the poor and the rich. I see them as a reflection of the direction our society is going and the rage that is boiling up from under the surface. I don’t know how to write rage though...and I don’t like to project thoughts of a negative future for our country but the veil has been ripped off so much corruption since Trump has been in the Whitehouse.
I think you can switch out true/truth for rage. It can fit and write it when you are ready. You got it. I can see it. Be the writer of rage your unique way.
My brain is on work, as many processes have changed recently. I'm still trying. I'll get there.
Whenever I use the word "Try" I think of Yoda
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
Found it! There is no way I would have remembered this title. I posted it in January 2005. I was an advocate at a domestic violence treatment program. I couldn't talk to anyone about what I heard so I wrote poetry. This poem was completed in 1996.
Natural Consequences
My name is Chris and I am six. I learn
my lesson with burning scars on my back.
He reads the Bible and burns me because
I forgot to hang my coat on the hook.
A flick of the lighter and my arms flinch.
My dad tells neighbors I'm medicated.
My dad always said God is the Father.
My dad always said I have to fear God.
My dad always said he likes to scare me.
I fear my Father so he must be God.
If God smokes cigarettes then God likes Fire.
Gasoline and His lighters do the trick.
Now Father and I will burn together.
Those sirens rejoicing our blessedness.
Reading it again makes me anxious. I remember that the call that "inspired" the poem was horrifying and I couldn't shake it off for a while. I wrote the draft of this poem immediately after the call, and I read it at an open mic that evening. The MC looked at me as if I was crazy after I read it. That call kind-of shook me.
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
Good work Ms Haiku!
May 14, 2020
A useful dream
I dreamt I was carrying a 50 lb backpack
the other night
in the dream, it felt like it was carried for my kids
I couldn't put it down!
walking miles of road,
couldn't put it down
climbing hills,
couldn't put it down
was there water for the family in there?
was there food for the kids?
why was I carrying it?
I was getting exhausted, of course
but I had to keep walking.
(that was apparently my job in the dream)
when I woke up,
I realized it was all this weight
carried under my skin
I can't put it down.
and it's been tiring me out for quite a while
I'm going to think of that picture
I need to think of that picture
whenever I'm tempted to eat out of boredom
or stay up too late for no good reason
I know you, but I don't know you
haven't we all heard someone say that upon occasion?
(when we do something another doesn't expect)
or, I don't know you, but I know you
haven't we all felt that upon occasion?
(when someone we haven't met does something we understand)
so I'll say today:
I don't know you, but sometimes I know you
sometimes I understand what I see
sometimes I love you
you, a stranger and not a stranger
you, a stranger and a friend too
me, a separate person
but also an open heart embracing others