glopowrimo2019

sad little sonnet

eyelashes plucked
and the orange-peel breath
of Town Hall viaduct
smells like time left
behind, it’s not strange
to weep when tired
or look to rearrange
everything, rewired
and I wonder, lonely
if a fraud?
what if I only,
always, did what I adored?
Who cares, who cries
in empty offices full of sighs

 

Today’s challenge: write your own sad poem, but one that, like Teicher’s “Son“, achieves sadness through simplicity. Playing with the sonnet form may help you. Not sure this is a real sonnet. I followed the rhyme structure but I feel like it isn’t ‘right’

Photo by Edgar Castrejon on Unsplash

Snowclouds in April

 

A lifetime in one day

clouds toss the sun about

and the wind bats the sail

how oppressed you feel

 

As a ribbon stretches

across my page

shiversilver in afternoon light

shafting through tinted glass

of tramstop topwindow

and the whole patchwork years

unfurl in a breezy

meadow like a picnic blanket

or a dancing plastic bag

pick the spots

glinting rivers and

sequin puddles shining

moments, vignettes, entire novels

maybe mundane but it never felt that way

the sky up there so grey

full of snow and rage

 

Today’s GloPoWriMo prompt: write something that involves a story or action that unfolds over an appreciable length of time.

Photo:  Devon Rogers on Unsplash

Anima / Animus

 

what could have been

an invisible line

between our eyes

never enough time

 

no private spaces

or empty lands

our dance in plain view

never touch hands

 

in our minds

that curl of yearning,

keening, never knowing

what were we learning?

 

I’m late today with posting. I wrote it this morning but forgot my notebook and it’s been such a busy day. Argh. This is not good, feel like I’m falling behind already!!  The prompt was: to write a poem that resists closure by ending on a question, inviting the reader to continue the process of reading (and, in some ways, writing) the poem even after the poem ends.

Photo by Anete Lūsiņa on Unsplash

The runner

Just when you get started

is

have I got a tissue?

did I bring lip balm

or forget keys

the good socks! Ah

better not

go back

the message is

not the medium

but

things’ll be dire

if I turn, must

run this track

so go, go go,

and put those

fickle-fuckle thoughts aside

of props

all you really need

is two feet, running

and

the vital missive

survive!

bright and clear

like wings, like hope

held fast (so fast, don’t stop) and

carried safe, in mind

 

 

It’s poetry month again! Yay!! I am so excited to participate again this year. Lots of changes afoot for me, which I’m sure you’ll hear about through the month, so it’s nice to do something familiar. Today I followed the early-bird prompt:  write a poetic self-portrait. And specifically, we’d like you to write a poem in which you portray yourself in the guise of a historical or mythical figure. Does that sound a bit strange? Well, take a look at this poem by Mary-Kim Arnold, “Self Portrait as Semiramis,” or Tarfia Farzullah’s, “Self-Portrait as Artemis,” and perhaps you’ll get a sense of the possibilities. I started looking up cool goddesses, like Hel and Hathor, but nothing quite clicked. In the end I went for that nameless first “Marathon” runner who saved his people with an heroic effort. I guess I’m feeling pretty noble about my quest! Also a good ‘beginning’ poem, I feel. Plus, as I may have mentioned, I have become a runner and it’s helped me survive some difficult times. OK, enough about me!

Photo: https://unsplash.com/@we_are_rising