Apr
23
2017
there’s an oak tree
in the brush line
by the driveway
with a branch
that’s been hanging
since the ice storm
of 1991
i remember my sadness
at the damage of trees
i remember being young
and appalled
at life’s cruelty
i remember how
the basement flooded and
the lack of electricity
i remember that my parents
came to stay
it’s been 26 years
and that branch
is still hanging
and i wish i remembered
how to cling with tenacity
to a tree still growing
through bad storm
.
.
.
3 comments | posted in NaPoWriMo 2017, poetry in motion, poetry month 2017, what i see
Apr
22
2017
they said youth was the currency
and beauty the price
but we knew better
on the streets
of anarchy
where blossom
was never
as fragile
as ego
and thorn
was the tally
of vice
.
.
.
no comments | posted in NaPoWriMo 2017, poetry in motion, poetry month 2017, time has no mercy
Apr
21
2017
prom dress pretty
and filled
with fresh hope
the irony
of this tall vase of tulips
primp-sitting
all bare and innocent
amidst kitchen-table clutter
and the convoluted
detritus
of a too-busy week
but these are my days
and no matter how messy
there are always flowers
sometimes fresh
sometimes dying
sometimes too long
past gone
for shame’s sake
always
flowers
always a smile
on a short-sheet friday
and life’s
funny bone
antics
silk purse
sow’s ear
and all that
.
.
.
no comments | posted in my secret garden, NaPoWriMo 2017, poetry in motion, poetry month 2017
Apr
17
2017
suddenly
there is all this color
all this light
shining green through
blue glass
and
it seems absurd
to think winter
equals hibernation
but i awaken
and there it is
a new year
that did not exist
yesterday
.
.
.
2 comments | posted in NaPoWriMo 2017, poetry in motion, seasons in the sun, Uncategorized
Apr
13
2017
busy
and the days grab me away
from the paying attention
to that color, that lilt,
that perfect light
one breath
one moment
take it in
notice
this is what matters
this one fleeting second
of pure, silent beauty
remember
.
.
.
no comments | posted in NaPoWriMo 2017, poetry in motion, poetry month 2017, Uncategorized
Apr
12
2017
and i am still right here
these are the words
that ring through my head
on a hamster-wheel day
when running in place
feels just as exhausting
as covering distance
and all i really
want to do
is fly
.
.
.
4 comments | posted in NaPoWriMo 2017, poetry in motion, poetry month 2017
Apr
10
2017
spring comes and the birds start singing
and that’s not poetry
it’s truth in a dress
made from hope and hybrid dancing
but we wear it on days
when the swamp
spills over
and
every tiny miracle
understands the word survival
and thrive becomes the promise
of tomorrow
less season
than rebirth
perhaps even
a holy transformation
or simply life
refusing
to go gently
but the birds learned all this
long before Plato
and that
in a word
is
poetry
spring comes and the birds start singing
.
.
.
no comments | posted in NaPoWriMo 2017, poetry in motion, poetry month 2017
Apr
9
2017
of your outrage and your joy
your frustration and your ploy
your glad-to-be-alive
or about-to-take-a-dive
the mystery of light
and the hollow of each night
your complaints and your praise
of survival and spent days
the youth that was lost
and the parody of cost
just sing
.
.
.
1 comment | posted in NaPoWriMo 2017, poetry in motion, poetry month 2017
Apr
7
2017
and are they
one and
the same?
the questions roar
and the answers
take flight
and the trees just
stand there
growing
.
.
.
3 comments | posted in in flight, NaPoWriMo 2017, poetry in motion, poetry month 2017
Apr
6
2017
in the mirror of everything
sky raining down around you
in a pattern of potential
with the fortitude of grace
dripping cold from
squared-off shoulders
as if sunshine
could be ordered and
magnificence
presumed
.
.
.
3 comments | posted in my secret garden, NaPoWriMo 2017, poetry in motion, poetry month 2017