Just Beneath_________

The prompt today, in the November poem-a-day challenge, to write a poem beginning, “Just Beneath_______”

I chose to write a Dominotion, a form invented last year at the November challenge. ^_^

Just Beneath

 

Just beneath the cage, quite near,

beats a rhythm one can hear,

where the seat of my affection,

it is simply my connection.

So it beats on year by year;

my heart.

 

There it beats, beneath that cage

which does not protect nor assuage

the pain or joy, that I may find,

my rib-cage just is not designed

to block the pain or joy engage

in my heart.

 

With its easy syncopation

and a subtle soft vibration

that accompanies my life,

my every breath through fun and strife

toward its eventual cessation,

my heart.

 

Just beneath the surface lies

emotion’s heart in body’s guise.

Trust in it when e’er you wonder

what to do, and when you ponder,

listen to its soft advice,

your heart.

 

 

 

One Hundred Years of Company

Please don’t think I’m against company because of this poem. But I am adverse to judgmental, ungrateful, embarrassing company. And that’s all I want to say on that subject. The poem may speak for itself. (This is, again, after the Wednesday prompt today challenging us to change the title of a book and write a poem about that.)

One Hundred Years of Company

Or that’s how it feels
when you’re not really ready
to share every nook
and cranny of your home
with your overly-curious
in-laws
who silently judge
your housekeeping
based on a standard
made in the ‘fifties
when moms stayed home
and took care of
it all.

That’s how it feels
when you wake up
surprised
to see your company
in their boxers
outside in your garden
smoking
and putting the butts
in the garden gnome’s
hat.

That’s how it feels
when you no longer
even want to
suppress the words
that are begging to be
said.

Yes, it feels
like a hundred years
at least.

April 30, Fade Away

Today is the last day of the April poem-a-day challenge, and what a month it has been. I feel wrung out and exhausted, but also, a bit sad that it’s all over once more. Of course, November will be here before too long, and another poem-a-day challenge with it, but it’s always hard to let go of that daily drive to finish at least one poem.

The prompt was “fade away,” apropos I think to the feeling we get when the party’s over. Luckily, the Wednesday poetry prompts will still be there to tide us all over.

I wrote one Haiku for the prompt, and then referenced, or rather, replied to, a poem from March in the second poem.

Rock stars sometimes say
It’s better to burn out than
simply fade away.

###

Check March 22 for part one: Life on the Street

###
The Party Fades Away

Back on the street,
the last
exhausted
visitors are packing up,
getting set to go on their way.

The regulars are just as
exhausted, but know that
in a few days,
things will be back to normal.

...to sleep, perchance to dream...

With maybe a few more
regulars
to stay and play
through the
long quiet summer
and peaceful fall
until
November
gets us all amped up
and poeming like
crazy
once
more.

April 23, Morning

Ugh – busy, busy day today. But I took a moment to write my poem about “morning.” It was a beautiful morning the the pacific northwest…

###

Morning in the Mist

The most beautiful morning
I can remember
was in the Jefferson Wilderness
in the Pacific Northwest.

We’d hiked in the day before
with me and two boy scouts
and one man.
Plus 12 silly girls and 3 moms.
I remember feeling I just didn’t belong
not only because the girls
were so silly (they’d brought
curling irons
and hair dryers
for the hike)
but because I got along so much better
with the grownups.

My tent?
A tarp I strung between a couple trees.
I had a ground cloth,
the rain was light and
besides, the trees deflected
most of it
high above.

And that way, I didn’t have to hear
the ceaseless chatter, chatter, chatter
all night because no one wanted to share
my crude shelter.
(Well, save a squirrel I caught
robbing my pack. I let him have
some granola.)

I slept fine.

The sun came up early, and the mist
was rising when I got up
and took a walk by the lake
and watched the sun come up
over the mountains.

I felt touched by God.

Poetic Wednesday

The prompt today was: “Everything’s against me” and it did make me stop and think. Back to a time when I truly felt that everything and everyone was trying to make life unbearable. ^_^

Retrospect

Oh, to be 16 again
(and know what I know now).

I know now that every little 
pimple
broken nail
disarrayed hair
missed phone call
isn’t the tragedy I thought it was then.

I know now that 
I don’t have to be tan
to be cute.

I know now that
no matter how I loved that boy
there really are other fish in the sea.

I know now that being 
young
healthy
happy
are such miracles
and should be appreciated.

But appreciation is for 
the wiser
(older)
soul.

As a teen
everything
(everyone)
exists to 
annoy
torment
pressure
plague
bother
demand.

Only in retrospect
was that life
and time
beautiful.

Wednesday Poetry Prompt – May 25, 2011

The poetry prompt comes from Poetic Asides by Robert Lee Brewer. If you want to try the prompt, go for it! Just go to the prompt of the day, go to comments, and put your poem up! It’s fun and the people there are very encouraging!

The prompt today is “Priorities.”

Writing

A page a day?
You can do better than that.
But the pressure
of a page
every
day
makes it much more
difficult
to come up with prose.

On the other hand,
if I let myself
(my imagination)
run wild
and write as much as I want
as often as I can
sometimes
I have
a fifty-page
day.

Bitterroot

As your daughter,
I wanted to be
part of your life.

Of course I did, I loved you.

But you were full of fear
or pain
that you hid behind,
telling us kids:

“It hurts too much
to see you, and not
get to keep you.”

I try to imagine your pain.

How can it compare with
the pain of a child
with no anchor?

No father in the audience
at recitals and plays.

No father at home wanting
to interview her dates.

No father for the
father/daughter dance
at her wedding?

Instead,
I find myself
on the sidelines.
Hearing about you
from others; witnesses to your
life. They know you, I don’t.
I hear them say, “Wow, you
look just like your dad!”

and

“He loved you so much.”

Really? How can you tell?
I want to yell at them,
scream that he was not the man
they thought he was,
the man who raised my
stepmother’s children
so lovingly.