This is my first time taking part in Poetry Friday. Many thanks to Molly Hogan of Nix the Comfort Zone for hosting this week. The Poetry Friday hosting list can be found in the sidebar at A Year of Reading.
I have wanted to take part in this activity for a while now, especially since I have begun writing my memoir. The harder I try to write this specific work of creative nonfiction, the more poetry starts to insist on coming out of my head. I’m sure the Universe is amused at this.
Here are my two poems.
He walks the halls like
He owns them
These halls, these walls,
These doors, behind which
Stride of a mission.
Roof leak on
Five graves on a cedar knoll
Roots twisted around stones,
The writing eroded.
In the surrounding pasture,
The cows, oblivious
To the nameless dead,
Flick futile tails at flies
Clustered to drink
In the pools of their eyes.
The sun shines down,
A light in August,
While life lolls on.
Every month in the Time to Write Community (part of Teach Write), we have a challenge or two to get our creative juices flowing to areas they might not have considered.
The challenge for February is “My Life in Five Sentences,” and since I’m usually trying to pull something together on the last day of the month, I thought I’d take an early stab at it.
Well, everything came to me as images, and as poetry instead of prose. I wrote it and shared it with my fellow Time-to-Writers, and then debated sharing it here. It’s pretty personal, and a little bit raw, but hey. That’s — literally — Life.
My Life in Five Sentences
I was born a half-century ago
In a centuries-old city of
Fog, smokestacks, wharves,
And old brick.
At ten, I was dragged off to
Lower Suburbia, Different Province,
A community of cookie-cutter houses,
No ocean, few friends,
And too many bullies.
My intuition led me to safe places
In the forms of teachers,
And books, and libraries, with
My own words pouring onto the page.
My twenties and thirties meant Home,
Back to my city of bricks and mist,
Marrying my mister, rocking an empty cradle,
And countless days assuming different names
With the front of the class my stage.
My forties were a blur stirred up
By a noon crosswalk and a Ford Focus,
Relearning to walk straight, to think straight,
And a slow regenesis of Self,
With my words being the last to return,
At the age of fifty.
My Giraffe Just Left for the Zoo
My giraffe just left for the zoo,
After asking, "Do you want to come too?"
But alas, I declined;
No bus fare could I find,
Among the "under couch cushions" goo.
The giraffe was meeting a goat,
Who was going to the zoo by boat.
He'd planned to take the bus,
But the driver kicked up a fuss:
"You don't ride the bus with no coat."
Together they paid at the gate.
(The goat asked to pay the kid's rate.)
The giraffe paid full price,
And bought a lemonade ice,
Declaring it well worth the wait.
The visitors were much varied in age,
With helium balloons all the rage.
"I think I'd like one,"
Said the goat, but before done,
He and Giraffe found themselves in a cage.
So I headed to the zoo to post bail.
(My giraffe had to eat from a pail!)
And the goat begged me too,
"Get me out of this zoo!"
So I did, rather than listen to him wail.
They were hungry, so home to dinner we'd go.
The goat rolled his eyes -- "I don't like ham, though!"
"Next week," mused the giraffe,
With a wink and a laugh,
"I think we should go to Lambeau."
Today’s Poetry Prompt at my group came from NPR, at this link:
Poetry Challenge: Honor MLK By Describing How You Dream A World
Here is my offering:
Last Tuesday at a Poetry and Prompts group, a friend of mine wrote and read a blitz poem. I had never heard of this poetry form before, but I really enjoyed hearing it, and so I looked it up.
Here is my first blitz poem. It was fun to write.
Town of Life
town so small
town by the tides
tides of change
tides ebb and flow
flow in as students
flow out as adults
adults with ideas
adults with opinions
opinions of ideas
opinions of people
people who cry
people who laugh
laugh at children
laugh at Fate
Fate rolls the dice
Fate ain't always nice
nice little town
nice little shops
shops for the students
shops for the professors
professors of chemistry
professors of history
history in the town
history all around
around the town
around the harbour
harbour the houses
harbour the books
books in the library
books in the classes
classes of people
classes of animals
animals on the farms
animals in the bars
bars on campus
bars on streets
streets lined with shops
streets lines with homes
homes for a lifetime
homes for seasons
seasons with snow
seasons come and go
go back to campus
go on to real life
life lessons earned
life well learned