Sunday, April 7, 2013

April Poetry, Week 1


Day 1

Fools

come down to the water,
step out on the ice
forget the signs
of spring.

come onto the rocks,
wear your Sunday shoes
ignore the seaweed
wet there

come on over to my side
in perfect agreement
no matter what
you know

fools and foolish ways
no way to stop them.





Day 2

Going Walden
                Solitude exposes the nerve,
            Raises up ghosts.    May Sarton


You decide to go it alone,
pack only three days of supplies,
think going Walden a sensible plan.
Inner voices warn your city side
grasp what you can’t know:
Jangled nerves, raw meat on the bone.
Dark nights without moon.
A fall of will overtakes romance
as every nasty ghost comes knocking.
There’s no joy in your pencil tonight,
every blank page raises nightmares.
These woods are not ready for your visit,
haven’t cleaned out their dark winter
deeds. The trees groan all night
in fierce repentance. What folly
you commit to interrupt
when it from darkness alters, is reborn.
Blow out the lamp and be sensible.
Rattle your beads as a talisman, wait
for the shapeshifting wood
to become whole, to open leafy arms
and welcome strangers.





Day 3


Sunshine Super Girl

In some circles, or in the air
where magic lives and flies and sings,
where Sunshine Super Girl was born,
and all the angels grew their wings,

legends grow tall like stately elms.
And in our sleep while ere we dream
of fairy dust and witches' brews
and hatch our foolish plans and schemes.

But mortal men and women, we
can only half achieve our ends,
for we are poor and limited.
So what’s the remedy to mend

the dangers, strife and worldly woes?
It’s the music and the poetry
of Sunshine Super Girl we need
to save us from calamity.

So sing along, and make some rhymes
and smell the flowers on your way,
ask only for some simple verse
to brighten up your darkest day.

Tyger, Tyger burns in the night,
Raven keeps saying never more.
We hear the fly buzz on the wall;
We hear the rap upon the door.

We wonder where the wild things are
that lurk the edges of our sleep,
that fright us out of peaceful realms
and frazzle us while counting sheep.

Fear not the shadows of the dark
or monsters lurking in the park,
for Sunshine Super Girl’s nearby
to wake you safe when morning’s nigh.





Day 4 

The End of Rain

If it never rains again
if water never gushes
the banks of river, or washes
up on the shore at high tide, and tides
stop rushing at all, and fish
start dying for lack of, will we give
some of ourselves,  a fraction of our 70%
to make the ocean whole? If not we,
then who will tend and save
the sea from its slow burning? If rain
cannot come down, or will not come,
and all of us forget our tears
are made of sea water, who will cry?





Day 5


Affectionately known as Hooker’s Lips, Psychotria elata with it’s colorful red flowers attracts many pollinators including butterflies, bees, and hummingbirds.  Also known in some circles as Mick Jagger’s lips, or as the Hot Lips Plant. The plant looks just like a pair of bright red lips.




Psychotria Elata

Whose lips I’ve kissed and where and when
perhaps it’s just the garden lips I crave
to set upon the hearth or sill
in vases or in bowls,
to brighten up a dreary day of nothing
but dim and gray and gloom.

Ask the tiny hummingbird, the butterfly
looking for a kiss of pollen to survive
if these red lips are to be banned
for their bold & sassy presentation.

On Mick’s songster face, we love the lips
from whence his songs derive,
but mock the female on the street
whose kiss might come on a bit too full.

Once red lips were all the rage
on those dramatic women
of the stage and screen, but now
it’s make-up free we crave, and judge
some colors too extreme. For me,
I’m hanging with the bees, see bright
red lips not a blight, but attraction
                                                            — for survival. 
Carmine. Scarlet. Blood red.





Day 6


Just So

I make the rules. You’d better
follow just so, or off with some body part
(your head, an arm or two, your left eyeball?)
This new rule: no sitting in my chair,
is not capricious; it’s a matter of respect I say.
The dent in the cushion I worked
to make, to fit just so at the end
of the day when my body’s done
its part to benefit society or make a dent
in the family chores, or (sigh)
to sag into when the weight of day —
just too much to bear. So do not sit
where I desire to be and break this rule,
or there’ll be no end to the rebuke.
I make the rules, so let it be known just so:
This is my chair, get out, be gone, scram!




Day 7 

(take a prior poem and randomly cut out text, leaving the white space... see what new poem emerges; to read the original and compare, go to March poems, Day 15...week 2)



Malevolent

           

            did Bentley see
in his lens?       the lacy flakes
            he froze them
                        for winter, a pretty
                                     grumbling over shoveling
                           
                         alike he said,
                                     
                                                Conceived
                        Nature’s killer queen
colorless brutal             falls
            we        suspect
her malevolence. 39 million

                        atomic bombs.

She’s a clever
like a prism
                         
                                    white and soft,
            freezing
                                     fire, snuggle

watch destruction fall                         .





No comments:

Post a Comment