Late

Poetry prompt—the first I’ve attempted since the April poem-a-day challenge—is to write a late poem. Kind of apropos since I am late to the month of poeming. (I’ve been busy!) ^_^

Here is my try:

 

Late

Can you imagine?

Time is Fleeting

I hit every light at red,
or yellow turning red,
all the way to work.

I was positive I was doomed,
fifteen minutes late, and no
real excuse. Plus, I’d rather
just say, “Sorry,” than
come up with something
that sounds like a lie.

But when I arrived, so late,
only one or two other cars
populated the lot.

Everyone was running late today.
So I sit at my desk, looking
virtuously on, as others slip in,
breathless and full of reasons
that end up sounding like lies.

More NYC

What a fun trip we’re having — the walking is exhausting, but it is probably good since I am also eating my head off, trying different foods and such. We found a lovely Belgian cafe we have been eating breakfast at, Le Pain Quotidien, where they have wonderful baked foods, bread and danishes and other delicious things. 

We’ve tried a NY Bagel, of course, at Grand Central Station. Grand Central Station is very cool – somehow both bigger and smaller than I’d imagined. It is  just a train station, after all, but the work that went into it is amazing, the sculptures, the carvings, the stone, wood, marble. Just stunning. The famed ceiling is much lighter than I’d imagined, a kind of turquoise night sky with constellations in gold. 

We saw a play on Broadway, Mamma Mia, which was uplifting and cool – They did a fantastic job, of course, and we enjoyed it very much. Afterward when we went to leave the theater it was pouring down rain, but we’d brought umbrellas and went to have pizza while we waited it out. (Have not had good NY Pizza yet…) Times Square, of course, is right on Broadway, and again, it was much bigger and also somehow smaller than I’d imagined. It is hard to describe what it is like to see things in person that you’ve seen all your life, larger than life, in movies or news, and though I KNOW New York is a gigantic town, and trust me, there were hundreds of thousands on Times Square, somehow, it all seems smaller, more intimate, than I had imagined. Even WITH the 2 story electronic billboard that goes across half a city block… Still. 

We’ve visited Macy’s (twice) and have walked around the outside of the Empire State building. We’ve been on Madison Avenue and Fifth Avenue for shopping and Rockerfeller plaza. And we’ve met some fun and interesting people too. We were resting our feet on Sunday, sitting in Bryant Park and met a man who was chatting with us. He’d lived in both our home towns, (Phoenix and Orange County) and had come back home to NY. He is out of work, but has hopes of work soon. We discussed current events and the weather and people and other things, and finally went on our way, but it is so funny that even in a big place like this there are individual people who like talking to other people and making friends. 

Last night we had a tour on a clipper ship — we pre-purchased the tickets at half price on a NY deals website — and it was amazing. We went into the harbor at twilight and cruised around the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island. We saw New Jersey, Queens, Brooklyn, Staten Island, all the sights. Met a musician (Steven) from Liverpool – his lovely girlfriend (Wheelchair bound) and had so much fun. My friend is a photographer, so hopefully, eventually, I will be able to share some of her lovely work with you, but in the meantime, here are a few I snagged with my cell phone. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Manhattan

Okay – we’re here now, finally, after many airplanes and terminals and travel. It is really exhausting to travel, and the only “up” side to all that travel is that you only have to deal with the TSA goons once, then you’re home free past the grope-stations.

We played crossword puzzles on my nook for much of the flights. The only puzzles that made us cross were the “Hard” ones because the answers always seemed so counter-intuitive.

We had delicious hamburgers in the Midway terminal at Illinois Bar & Grill – great french fries, too, in case you’re ever stuck waiting for a delayed flight. ^_^

Our taxi driver from LaGuardia was an Indian man (Mr. Gata) who had a namaste sticker on his dashboard. He was very nice, and drove us down Madison Avenue to our great delight. We ventured out for dinner and were taking pictures in front of the NY Public Library, when we did something we had been warned NOT to do. (Repeatedly.) A man and woman came up to us and offered to take our picture if we would then take their picture. Of course we helped out, but warning voices, be aware they were a perfectly adorable Aussie couple who did NOT run off with our camera, and who were very happy to finally have a picture together.

Now to bed. My internal clock is terribly confused –my head is saying it’s only 9:14, but the clock in our room says it’s 0:18. Morning and adventures await. We will try to mostly stay out of trouble.

Packing

I’m getting ready to go on a trip, just me and a girlfriend actually, and we’re going to New York City. I should totally be packing right now, but this is part of my strategy for packing for a trip. First, I get the suitcase and take all the leftover stuff from the last trip out of it. Then I go look into my closet. Then I go look at the suitcase.

Then I go downstairs and have some pizza. Then go to the washer and see if it’s done yet. Then back up to stare at the suitcase some more. Then, I come downstairs and get on the computer to check New York weather. Then, I get distracted and go play on Facebook for a minute, which turns into longer. Then I get up and go stare at my still empty suitcase and start putting t-xhirts and pants in it. Then I look in and realize that all my good fitting clothes are black, white, or gray. And I think that this is terrible, I will look like I’m going to a funeral, and then I remember that in New York, black is the new black. Then I dig in my drawer for some colorful shirts.

Then I go put the laundry in the dryer and realize I have a blue shirt, but it needs hemming, so I go into the sewing room and sew for a while. (3 shirts, one nightgown.) Then I go throw the nightgown into the dryer to get the lint off it. Back upstairs, stare into my suitcase. Now there is black, gray, white, blue and one bright green t-shirt. Then I realize I haven’t even started with shoes. I decide to post on my blog.

It goes on like this for a long time… LOL I expect to get to bed about 2 hours before I have to get up. Every time I promise myself I won’t do it again… I make myself laugh. ^_^

I don’t know, do I need the flippers?

Finished/Never Finished

Today’s the last day of April and I am proud to say I’ve completed the entire month of prompts. Whew. Today’s last prompt was to write a finished/never finished poem. I thought it over all morning, and my ideas gelled over lunch.

Woman reading, by Kuroda Seiki [Public domain]

Sent to the
finest finishing
schools, taught
by refined,
capable instructors, she
should have been genteel.

But, truth was,
she loved rebellion
more than not,
and so she,
admittedly, will never
quite be a “lady.”

Choose a Line, Any Line

Today’s prompt, of the penultimate day of this April challenge, was to choose a line from a previous poem and use it as the title of today’s work. The line I chose was from Day 17, Poets Express, and chose the line, “reapply for our poetic license. I put the poem in the form of a pair of Shadormas just for fun.

Reapply For (Y)our Poetic License

The only
real requirements
are time and
awareness,
a desire to juggle words
and some elbow grease.

Just breathe deep
and make up your mind.
Try to write,
every day.
Dig deep. Try being honest.
Then the words are yours.

Shadorma

Today’s prompt, which I’ve finally gotten to very late, was to write a Shadorma – the syllabic scheme goes 3/5/3/3/7/5, so this was kind of fun. ^_^

***

a rock wall

beside the blue sea

the gulls call,

wheel and cry

whitecaps on the windy sea

rainbow scattered waves

Mechanical

We’re almost to the end of this poeming month. I am a bit weary, as I generally feel by this point, but know I will miss the daily struggle for words once the prompting is over, save for the weekly stretch.

The prompt today is to write a “mechanical” poem.

Surreal

Isn’t it strange,
the way ones body
can simply go on
even in the face of the most
horrendous stress.

How strange,
uncanny,
surreal, even,
to be standing at the sink
calmly washing dishes
when my whole
world
has turned
completely upside down.

I feel almost as if
I am watching myself
from above
or behind,
slightly off center.

I feel numb,
but somewhere,
deep inside,
there is a howl
trying to escape.

And so I continue
the mechanical
movements.
Swirling the warm soapy water.
Sudsing the plate/cup/spoon,
and rinsing in water so hot
it leaves my hands scalded,
yet untouched,
because the real pain
isn’t on the outside.

Cast

Day 26 of the Poem-a-day Challenge and I am getting worn down. LOL The prompt was to write a “casting” poem.

Homage? Or Borrowed Genius?

A friend of mine, a few years older,
had cast her face
in ceramics class
and then made a teapot
with her face.

It was unique and original
and so,
wanting a bit of that magic,
her genius,
I made a cast of my hand.

It was several years later,
so all of the students
thought
I was the original,
unique one.
But I wasn’t.

I cast my hand in the shape
of a hand cupping water.
And I still have that
younger hand,
green-glazed and
still cupping,
and still
not as inspired
as I wanted it to be.

Everyone _______________

Day 25 of the poem-a-day challenge – the prompt is to write a poem beginning Everyone __________.

Summer (The Green Hammock) Sir John Lavery

Everyone Needs a Hammock

Take the stress of the day and
lie down with it
in your hammock.

Swing softly with the breeze.
Watch the clouds, or stars,
the branches above,
or twittering birds
or playing children,
or read your book.

A tall glass of lemonade
in the summer.
Warm cider in the autumn.
A cozy quilt in the winter.
A Roger Tory Peterson book
in the spring.

And maybe a cuddle with
someone you love…
sure, the kids will all fit, too.

More hammocks,
less worry.
That’s what everyone needs.

The Hammock – 1844 Gustave Courbet