Practicing Poetry

25 Apr

Not searching for words,
but clearing the channel thru
which words pass.

* * * * *
National Poetry Writing Month
30 poems in 30 days

Having a ball.

24 Apr

Tennis ball set down
between us, sun not yet up:
Morning dog talk. Home.

* * * * *
National Poetry Writing Month
30 poems in 30 days

A Wedding Wish

23 Apr

for A & C

I do not wish
for your love to be potted
in rich soil now,
watched,
watered,
pruned
or
tended
in any traditional way.

No, your love
sprouted up between
cacti and wildflowers,
hearty, expansive and strong
in
its
own
right.

My wish for you
is for
space-sun-rain-time
to grow your love
ever more

luminous,
wild on the vine.

* * * * *
National Poetry Writing Month
30 poems in 30 days

Dots

22 Apr

Starting with one bright red dot,
my finger swypes a square spiral –
What would you call that?
A squaral? – to meet
the only other bright red dot
on the screen. Soon,
there are paths of red and
blue dots, yellow and green
dots making mazes, called Pipes.
Pipes. This is how I pass the time
when what I want to understand
is people.

* * * * *
National Poetry Writing Month
30 poems in 30 days

it’s all in the eyes

20 Apr

Mom.
Mom, look.
Mom, look at the back door.
Mom.
Is that a macaroni noodle under the counter?
Yum.
It smells like…
Mom.
Mom, look out the back door.
{Long exhale.}
My head is on my paw, Mom.
Are you seeing this?
This paw here. No, this paw.
Mom.
Mom, look at me looking
at the back door.
Mom,
do you see?
You see!
You see me!
You see me seeing the door.
I am spinning.
I am spinning.
I am spinning
and …
Is that my tail?
That’s my tail.
Outside? Why?
No.
No, absolutely not.
Wait.
Mom, you’re not going out there.
Mom, wait.
Mom, you’re standing on the porch.
Mom, no.
Wait. No.
It’s raining.
No way.
I’ll pee tomorrow.
You do you –
I’m going to bed.
Mom,
close the door.

* * * * *
National Poetry Writing Month
30 poems in 30 days

Morning

19 Apr

Exiting the train,
Witness to these new blossoms
Whispering, it seems.

20160419_224640

* * * * *
National Poetry Writing Month
30 poems in 30 days

The Mic is Open

18 Apr

I speak
one word into the microphone,
amplified, catching the light
on my face.
In my mind’s eye,
I see you from the stage
although
I’ve made no commitment
to be there. I am not
standing there now, although
the mic is open.
My words are slippery,
not ready to be seen.
I am not ready
to be seen. But
it isn’t what you think,
this not quite readiness,
this

finding my voice
like so many before me,
like me before
me. It isn’t what I think
either.

What is it that keeps me
glued to my seat,
ducking my head when you say –
Get her up there.
She knows how to talk in the mic.

I grew up on the stage.
Of course I know how.
That isn’t the point.
For me, standing up there would be
like
falling off a log.

Yet that was a different life
I led with lights in my eye,
my voice booming
to the back of the room,
a life before
motherhood, before
owning a home,
before dogs.
I’ve never been good
at divided attention.
Is that it?

I don’t feel fear.
I don’t know
what I feel.

It’s just that,
upon coming home
tonight, after
hearing you all on the mic,
after watching faces, supporting
my friend whose story was superb,
I feel relieved
to be home with dogs
who lick my hands, and my Honey
who places the computer
on our dining room table
just like I asked –
to help me not wake her
when I come in late
and still want to write a poem.

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National Poetry Writing Month
30 poems in 30 days

* * * * *

I always carry pens.

17 Apr

I always carry paper.
I always carry pens.
Multiple pens.
Pens, plural.
Enough pens

to fill the hands
of young companions
during church
or a concert
or a car ride or a show.

Enough pens
to lend friends
prone
to sudden flashes
of WHOA! and
to hold in my own hand
when life is slow,
or when I need to
jot something down

…like a list
or a letter
or a poem…

I always carry pens but
PENS RUN OUT OF INK.

Or they’re not returned,
or one lands on the floor
of the car, forgotten, and so
I always have another.
I make sure to always
have another

because
no matter
where I am
or who I’m with —
waiting or wondering or
witnessing whatever
stunning or wonderful thing
we find —
pen and paper
make things
better
and
if better
isn’t good enough,
pen and paper
help to pass
the time.

.

* * * * *
National Poetry Writing Month
30 poems in 30 days
* * * * *

.

Lazy Saturday

16 Apr

Lazy Saturday
spent sun-soaked, giddily flopped
in a chair, reading.

image

* * * * *
National Poetry Writing Month
30 poems in 30 days

words in a cup

15 Apr

I relish this space

between being

here and being there,

these morning moments

with coffee in hand, blanket over my lap,

pen rolling across the page,

sometimes like decoder ink across my thoughts,

sometimes like a bucket holding thoughts I spill.

* * * * *
National Poetry Writing Month
30 poems in 30 days

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