Gauzy recognition
vague eureka moments
Ah! This is what life has to offer.
Then ~ blink.
Dingy gray-tones surround us.
We press onward,
arms outstretched. Eyes wide open.
The foggy dimness ever present hovering,
waiting.
Curl up, surrender, trudge on ‘til death?
No.
We hope, anticipate, strive for more
always more.
Reach
for more.
And, still, more again…
A poet in one of the writers’ groups I belong to recently self-published a chapbook anthology, the theme of which is writer’s block that includes my poem Poetry Group Beat Down. I wrote it after attending my first Omega Poetry group meeting where I was in awe of the many talented poets gathered around the table.
Hot off the presses! A poem of mine published in the Lyrical Iowa 2020 75th Anniversary Edition ~
You cannot be the cause of the problem
and seek reward for being its solution.
this orange turd will never soar…
fools know not how to solve
moon dust equations — Elites!, they cry.
these misguided “patriots” cannot exclaim
both joy & hatred, community & vitriol.
it does not compute!!
how do they think we’ll ever get
to where it is we want to go? have they
given any thought, any consideration
to our happily ever after?
People!!
It has to be a collective ‘our’,
a collective ‘ever after’.
Why can’t — or won’t — they see that?
Serrated leaves of brethren black-cherry trees
wave to me outside our sunroom windows.
Empty wire-mesh feeders sway
in the muggy almost-autumn breeze.
Sluglike, I cross to the mailbox,
COVID-gloves in hand.
Wasted effort: Political flyers
for a candidate I’d never, ever vote for.
Didn’t I read somewhere
that September’s segue to fall
dictates longer sleeves,
cooler nights, solid shoes?
My sugar-self craves a hot cuppa chai
but not when The Weather Channel
tells me what I already know — we’re dying here
in this ninety-degree muck, reprieve not yet our due.
Predictably, others will soon
protest winter’s snowfall, her howling winds,
those frigid blasts of icy, northern air.
But I won’t…
Basho speaks
of seeking
balance & composure.
Where
to begin?
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve picked up a book or two on Blackout Poetry at Barnes & Noble or other bookstores but always figured it just wasn’t my thing.
Until now…
Unable to sleep in the wee hours of the morning, I got out of bed, tore out a page from a book I’m currently altering for collage art and created my very first Blackout Poem. It was fun! I’ll definitely try this again. 🙂
enthusiasms in decline
or already dead
motivations lacking
or never-were
faltering footprints of self-pity
give way to immobilization
boot straps — broken nubs…
curled up, knees to forehead
sunken cheeks, cool to the touch
eyes a-glaze…
covers in a heap, empty side of the room
noon whistles blasts
the requisite three and a half minutes
yes, covid is a thing
but, girl, you’ve got to
pull yourself together
This summer I participated for the first time in POPO 2020, the August Poetry Postcard Festival. When you sign up, your name is added to a list of thirty-one others. Due to COVID-19, the festival began earlier than usual this year but the premise of the activity is to send a postcard to each person on the list by the end of August. The idea of which is to just sit down – on the fly! – and compose a poem for the recipient. And, to further challenge one’s artistic bent, use whatever means to communicate your poetic message (or not!) by decorating the other side of the postcard. You are also free to use any kind of postcard such as those to highlight the community or area you live in. You can use an already ‘decorated’ card if you prefer not to flex any artistic muscles of your own. Anything pretty much goes!
Here is a showcasing of some of the cards I decorated. Um, as for the poems — well, let’s just say maybe some other time! But the gist of the exercise, to get us to let our thoughts FLOW on paper, was enjoyable and time well spent. I’ve sent all my cards out and I must admit to having a few withdrawal pains! It was fun. I photographed every card and poem I sent and will let those verses marinade a bit. Later, I’ll see if I can’t just do a little bit more with them!!
If anyone is interested in participating in next year’s Festival, here’s a couple links with more information. Registration for POPO 2021 begins September 1st! You can also search for them on Facebook.
Some weird shit, man.
COVID-19 and all the ways of the world
mangled, twisted —
set on fire.
Another confirmed case,
the county adjacent to ours.
Close enough to us now
that it totally feels real.
Like, how real will it be
when friends, family,
neighbors
begin to die?
I could be one of them.
Compromised, weakened immune system
and fragile, as my sister tells it…
This fiend could slay me.
It could.
It really, really could.
Chit Chat