Apr 30, 2009

NaPoWriMo # 29

My Archeology Site

Simple things are not so
More behind the veil of the past.
Could explain the fissures.
More than can be spoken,
Still hidden,
Must remain buried,
For now.
Like an archeologist I’m at the dig site
Coal and diamonds are there.
Fear holds me back,
From my memories
I don’t think I can lift up the pick,
It must happen another day

Based on the prompt from Read Write Poem, "I Don't Think I can"

April 29, 2009

Apr 28, 2009

NaPoWriMo # 28

Mars, God of War

As Mars read the Scarlet Letter
he recalled,
"Though your sins be as scarlet,
they shall be white as snow."
He was red-faced.
White was such a weak color.
He roared, ready to go to war.

What would the Roman God of Mars Do?
I think he might pick up a book,
Ray Bradbury’s The Martian Chronicles,
for some insights
Maybe if Mars were feeling fiery,
he’d pull out FAHRENHEIT 451.
Get some of the “Fire” men to help him
fight his war with him.

But Guy Montag wouldn’t be much help.
So Mars would need to enlist Shakespeare
“Waving our red weapons o’er our heads”
Mars liked that sentiment,
and called on Shakespearean actors.
But those people were a waste
all they did after quoting that line
was to start reading all of Shakespeare’s Sonnets,
starting with One and continuing on through.
Mars got impatient
and killed them all.

He then tried to enlist some soldiers,
He chose the soldiers that fought in the Red Badge of Courage.
They too were disappointing,
far too old,
modern weapons confused them.
Mars let them join
Civil War Reenactments in Virginia,
too frail to kill,
Vulcan would laugh at him,
His heart on his sleeve.

He thought, maybe some “Red-Blooded Americans”
might have what he needed.
So he looked up a guy named Bruce,
Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band.
Bruce called up old buddies of from Jersey,
some welders, dockworkers, and
other blue-collar guys from the Jersey shore.
The Boss asked Mars what wanted them to play.

Mars was flabbergasted!
Play? What did he mean?
He’d heard the Boss could wield a mean axe.
After realizing the “Axe” was a guitar,
Mars resigned from red-hot anger
and asked Bruce and his E Street Band
to soothe him and play a song.

The Boss began to play with his Jerseys boys,
 over 100 guitars pounding out
a raucous, rollicking song
for Mars, God of War.

This poem is based on a promtp form Read Write Poem on "seeing red"

April 28, 2009

NaPoWriMo # 27

Beware of Homosapiens

Forget about the dog in that house,
there are people in there.
There’s a man with sharp words,
There’s a woman with biting sarcasm.
Another is rabid with unpredictability,
as he walks through his daily routine.
Insensitivity is on that one like fleas,
irritating all who are exposed.

It’s a always a smorgasbord of surprises,
like a beef stew on Sunday,
or Jambalaya on Fat Tuesday,
when people are involved,
part of the adventure of being alive,
our dark sides shine through,
even in the midst of our noblest moments.
Redemption can come,
moments after purgatorial wanderings.
Personality, character, soul are as
important as the water and chemical compounds,
that hold us together.
Is life is like a box of chocolates?

We are not black and white, cut and dried,
but like snowflakes,
beautiful, delicate, and intricate,
but melting so easily.
We are more complex than a DNA double helix.
The wondrous, beautiful disasters,
are very close,
within us all.

April 27, 2009

Apr 26, 2009

NaPoWriMo # 26

In My Town

I pass them daily
Target, Starbucks, Jamba Julice,
Suburban living.

April 26, 2009

NaPoWriMo # 25

Life of a Former Childhood Day Dreamer

Why do we always think the grass is greener?
When we get to the new yard it’s full of weeds.
Our cup of tea makes it easier to be an explorer.

We think that they have a nice demeanor,
But seeing what we want, we see their deeds
Why do we always think the grass is greener?

Instead we end up with a misdemeanor,
this time we weren’t someone who reads.
Our cup of tea makes it easier to be an explorer.

A new city is not the same as buying a coffeemaker,
we hope what we are brewing up succeeds.
Why do we always think the grass is greener?

I need to be more introspective and less of a runner.
Problems follow us where we go, more than one concedes. 
Our cup of tea makes it easier to be an explorer.

But life’s too short, I need to be an adventurer,
Get out my compass, coffee, map and stead.
Why do we always think the grass is greener?
Our cup of tea makes it easier to be an explorer.

April 26, 2009

Apr 25, 2009

NaPoWriMo # 24

Dog 2.0

If my dog had a Twitter account,
What would he say?

@Scout: “I’m about to lie down on my bed, about to nap.”
8:07 AM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: Tap, tap on the glass, “I want to go out.”
9:20 AM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: Ruff, ruff, “I NEEEEEED TO GO OUT!!”
9:27 AM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: 2 minutes later tap, tap on the glass, “I want to come back in”
9:29 AM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: “I’m back on my bed.”
9:36 AM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: “Oh, Lady Master has her keys and bag, she’s about to leave. Darn!
9:51 AM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Lady Master: “Blah blah blah, Bye Scout, blah blah blah, Scout”
9:58 AM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: “Well, I guess I’m going to lay on my bed now. Maybe after I’m sure she’s gone, I will take a look in the trash. Will nap first”
10:01 AM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: “I heard something, maybe my owner is home?!”
12:07 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: “Nope, just a car turning around.”
12:10 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: “I found some old bread in the trash, mmm, Good! OOHHH!, AN EMPTY PEANUT BUTTER JAR!!!.”
12:48 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: “I’m still licking the peanut butter jar.”
1:22 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: “I need to lie down, again.”
1:31 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: “I think my Master is opening the garage. It is Herrr!!! Must…find…shoe!”
2:06 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: “Oh boy, it is her!! Here she comes, it’s so exciting!!!”
2:09 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@LadyMaster: “Blah blah blah, Scout, blah blah, Scout, Good Boy! Blah blah!
2:11 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: “She said my name!!!”
2:11 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@LadyMaster: “Blah blah blah, SCOUT! What’s on your bed, blah blah, Bad dog! Blah blah!
2:14 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: “Oh no, not good, I’m hiding under the food room table!”
2:15 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: “The coast is clear, Lady Master is in her room. Need to lay down again”
2:24 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: Tap, tap on the glass, “I want to go out.”
4:09 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: Tap, tap on the glass, “I want to come back in.”
4:16 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: “Lady Master is at the food room table, I’m going to lay near her.”
4:29 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: “I hear my Man Master, keys are jangling, he’s at the front door, he’s almost innnnn! Where’s that shoe?!?! Here he is!!”
5:24 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Man Master: “Blah blah blah, Scout, blah Blah, Scout, Good Boy! Blah blah!
5:27 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: “The whole pack is here, oh good!”
5:43 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: “Going to lay on my bed.”
5:45 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: Tap, tap on the glass, “I want to go out.”
6:02 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: Tap, tap on the glass, “I want to come back in.”
6:09 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: “I need to drink water.”
6:14 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: “I need to lay down.”
6:16 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: “I smell something good coming from the food room”
6:23 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: “Sitting by Lady Master’s feet.”
6:25 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: “MMMMMMM, something in the stove smells good.”
6:28 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: “Must lay down, while food is cooking.”
6:32 PM Apr 24th from mobile web
@Scout: “This is taking a long time, need to go back to my bed.”
6:49 PM Apr 24th from mobile web

April 24, 2009

Apr 24, 2009

Pushing Beyond the Albatross (NaPoWriMo # 23)

Pushing Beyond the Albatross

Day twenty-three hopefully
Won’t be the death of me.
Cobbling together many lines,
Sometimes leads to new designs.
Its hard to write night after night,
Without coming across as trite.
The pressures of my day,
Sometimes get in the way,
Pushing me to write so late,
Can become a heavy weight,
Not enough time to germinate.
The best poems need space,
For the mind to embrace.
When writing is an albatross,
Often it feels like a loss.
Writing should be a joy,
And never should annoy.

If I write more earlier in the day,
Then it would be less prone to cliché.
The ideas need time to marinate,
And not just some due date.
But I have a day job,
I ain’t no slob.
I said I would write thirty,
And I know some aren’t purty.
I will make my goal,
And in my lumps of coal,
A diamond may be found,
Without making much sound.
Ideas molded just right,
I will continue to write,
When the 30 days are done,
They will be seen as a dry run.
Because I am very content
That this is time well spent.

April 23, 2009

Apr 22, 2009

NaPoWriMo # 22

Form Over Function or Functionless Form

The form
Shapes the meaning.
We expect certain things
By what come next or how
Punctuation is used,
Or not used when a line ends
Or when a thought is linked to that last line.
Is up to the creator.
What do you want.
In the meaning?
(Like a novel has
A beginning
A middle
An end)
What will make a poem
For the reader, reading?
Challenges arise.
Expectations shape,
What we think
Will come
Blasted lucky one,
The reader,
Brings the past,
Her present,
His hopes, his dreams, her fears,
Long linear lines are what some want in their poems, very prose like in the making , phrases that keep it going, keep the thought coming through,
Short lines
Make others

What makes the writer happy?
I’m not quite sure-
Yet, yet I continue on, not knowing where this will take
the reader
And the writer


April 22, 2009

Apr 21, 2009

Thoughts On The Year so far

In church this past Sunday as I was waiting for the service to start I was thinking of some verses that I had been thinking of off and on recently:
Hebrews 10:24-25
And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds. 25Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.
Then the pastor started out with that exact passage as an intro to what he was teaching. When God wants to get my attention, I've found he uses repetition.

So I was thinking about these verses again today and grabbing onto them at the same time wondering what God wants me to do with them. I've added them to a list of verses that I am holding onto this year:
1 Corinthians 1:25
For the foolishness of God is wiser than man's wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man's strength.
2 Corinthians 12:9
But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. (really all of 1 Cor 12:7-10)
Jeremiah 29:11-14
For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you," declares the LORD, "and will bring you back from captivity.
Jeremiah 31:31-34
31 "The time is coming," declares the LORD,
"when I will make a new covenant
with the house of Israel
and with the house of Judah.

32 It will not be like the covenant
I made with their forefathers
when I took them by the hand
to lead them out of Egypt,
because they broke my covenant,
though I was a husband to them, "
declares the LORD.

33 "This is the covenant I will make with the house of Israel
after that time," declares the LORD.
"I will put my law in their minds
and write it on their hearts.
I will be their God,
and they will be my people.

34 No longer will a man teach his neighbor,
or a man his brother, saying, 'Know the LORD,'
because they will all know me,
from the least of them to the greatest,"
declares the LORD.
"For I will forgive their wickedness
and will remember their sins no more."

Isaiah 61:1-4
1 The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,
because the LORD has anointed me
to preach good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners, a]">

2 to proclaim the year of the LORD's favor
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,

3 and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the LORD
for the display of his splendor.

4 They will rebuild the ancient ruins
and restore the places long devastated;
they will renew the ruined cities
that have been devastated for generations.

Also, I want to be more intentional in what I do with this year. I don't want to end the year and find that events have washed over me over the course of the year and all I have done is react to them. Doing the Poetry Month, poem a day is part of that intentionality, but also I have other things. I started out the year of journaling ever day, but have not done that as much, but am going to get back to that. Life has a way of sneaking up and running you over. I don't want that to happen, but need to be intentional in the choices I make. As I seek to grow friendships live intentionally, I will hold onto these verses.

NaPoWriMo # 21

Dental Garage

I don’t like going to the dentist.
I was going to turn over a new leaf with the dentist.
I think that tree is broken.

Don’t get me wrong,
Dentists are nice people.
I have a friend who’s a dentist.
But they’re always poking around,
it’s uncomfortable:
root canals,
poke and prod.
The hygienist needs to scrape your teeth,
open your mouth wide for an hour,
while she pokes around
and asks you your life story,
with water squirting,
hoses sucking,
sticks poking,
scrapers scraping,
sonic-noise-maker emitting it’s high pitch noise.

With your insurance,
that will only be $450 for that crown.
It’s like taking myself into the garage,
the mechanic looks under the hood,
pulling on belts and hoses,
we’ll get back you at the end of the day
with your estimate.
Jeez Louise!!
“The reason it is so much Mr. Estes,
you’ve blown out the universal joint and the transmission
by your back molars needs rebuilding.
We’ll have to check for parts,
but we’ll have to have you back into the shop
next Tuesday morning for 3 hours.”

They put me on the rack,
Lower me down,
shine their bright light under the hood,
“Hold on while we put in this foot long needle,
you’re going to feel a little pinch.”
Yeah, it was a little “pinch”
Uh, I need a little more,
I can feel the drill still.

I feel much better now.
I should make that appointment,
for the crown work,
that I cancelled in December,
and continue turning over
my new dental leaf.

April 21, 2009

Apr 20, 2009

NaPoWriMo # 20

Covert Sandwiches

The cacophony of the xylophone interrupted the agents’
clandestine Cambodian delicatessen operation.
Espionage, great food and ambiance disintegrate instantly.

April 20, 2009

The American Sandwich
Write a piece of flash fiction in just three American Sentences. Allen Ginsberg's American Sentence has seventeen syllables. Your task is to use as few words as possible to fill the sandwich.


Apr 19, 2009

NaPoWriMo # 19

Strike It Rich

The Poetry percolates,
but can’t make it up through the granite.
Turned inward,
Inertia keeps me going.
Up the mountain,
through the cavern,
I explore the depths
like a gold miner digging for ore.
I follow the vein,
pull out the pick and start working.
No luck,
pull out the dynamite.




I begin to strike my claim.

First I find some rhymed verse,
Hope I don’t come across terse.
Digging a little bit deeper
Finding for myself some meter.

I keep digging for nuggets of memories,
lines mined from the golden ore,
sifting through the rocks and dirt.

I have my pick, shovel and the light on my helmet
Here I go!

April 19, 2009

Apr 18, 2009

NaPoWriMo # 18

Wisdom Takes Time

When he was a boy he lied,
he stole things sometimes for fun,
wisdom showed stealing and lying wrong
Complacency brought white lies.
Again tempted to steal.
He knows stealing is wrong.
And he does what’s right, this time.

April 18, 2009

Apr 17, 2009

NaPoWriMo #17

Dinosaurs and Oreos

The brontosaurus and pterodactyl don’t often make it to the grocery store.
Last time they went to Safeway they made a huge mess.
Bronto told Ptero that he really needed Oreos and milk,
because he was tired of eating Fichus trees and giant ferns.

What’s the big deal anyway?
So Bronto got sick of the salad bar.
Ptero could deal with the Oreos and milk, she got it,
variety is the spice of life, etc.
What worried her is what came next.
She’d seen this before, with other herbivores.

First it started with the junk food,
under the guise of salad exhaustion.
Next it was the lunch meat, some turkey and ham.
Then they moved on to burgers from In-N-Out,
before you knew it, it was whole sides of beef, from Harris Ranch.
It was a slippery slope that quickly led to carnivorous behavior.
Maybe Bronto was stronger than Rex and Stego,
Ptero hoped she was wrong,
she would humor Bronto as he crashed
through the front of Safeway for his Oreos.

April 17, 2009

NaPoWriMo # 16

Einstein Is In My Kitchen

My age has been on my mind.
I’m not old, yet not young anymore.
I’m on my 42nd trip around the sun.
How many more trips around will I take?

This life is finite.
I put the trashcans out every Tuesday night.
It seems like I’m putting them out every other day.
Is some form of Einstein’s time relativity at work?
Is the planet moving more quickly for me?
I’ve blinked a few times and ¼ of the year is over.

My daughter is in Jr. High.
In two weeks she will be graduating high school,
and in another couple college will be over.
Then 3 days later I ‘ll be walking her down the aisle.

Einstein, are you messing around with my Space-Time Continuum?
Let go into the kitchen and have a cup of coffee.

April 16, 2009

Apr 16, 2009

NaPoWriMo # 15

Technical Difficulties Only Corrected After 11 PM

I submit a very late poem today,
Because working got in the way.
Late nights due to technology
Must keep running, no apology.
Phones are cranky when interrupted,
but these are not so easily corrupted.
Conficker didn’t hit, we run on Linux
Like Popeye, they eats their spinach.
I’ll put you and this poem out of misery
hopefully you enjoyed my delivery.

April 15, 2009

Apr 14, 2009

NaPoWriMo # 14: NaisaiKu

Cross country trip calls,
Leave California in June.
Five people packed in
Five people packed in
Leave California in June.
Cross country trip calls

April 14, 2009
This form was found on at the following location:

Apr 13, 2009

NaPoWriMo # 13

34 Remedies

The donkey has an acute case of hiccups.
He cannot get rid of them and turns green.
In singularity of purpose,
the donkey tries to end the constant hiccupping.
First he asks the dog to scare him,
Then the cow tells to hold his breath,
Next the pig tells to drink a glass of water upside down,
After going through 29 more remedies,
No dice, it doesn’t work.

The hiccups are driving all his fellow animals mad,
so the donkey checks into a hotel.
After falling into a deep sleep,
The donkey dreams of a Changeling
Meeting him with a handful of Tums and a glass of Pepto-Bismol.
“Eat these!” the Changelings shouts, and,
“Chase them down with this pink nectar.”

The donkey wakes in a sweat,
heart thumping out of his chest,
with the fire alarm going off and
he kicks his door down in a panic,
still hiccuping into the parking lot.

Standing with all the other guests,
still in their pajamas,
A spider lands on his nose,
donkey shrieks, “Spider! Ahhhh!”
He charges back to the farm
Jubilant that the hiccups are gone

April 13, 2009

Apr 12, 2009

NaPoWriMo # 12

Departures and Arrivals

How do you choose your destination,
where will you arrive?
Looking up at the monitors for Departures & Arrivals,
can be somewhat confusing.
Life seems to be constant series of Departures and arrivals.

You depart the womb as you arrive in birth, new to the world.
You depart the comfort of family, and arrive at school.
You Depart High School and arrive at college or a job,
everything and everyone is new.
You depart from your family, and arrive in marriage.
You depart your old city, and arrive at new city.
Every choice to arrive to something new, involves
both a departure, or loss, of something familiar, and gaining of something new.

The Arrival and Departure monitors in life’s airport,
show nothing more that city you’re leaving or getting to.
What’s it like there?
Who will I meet?
Will I like them, and will they like me?
Who will I miss, who will I never see again?
Something completely new and amazing is bound to happen,
happenings that can be good, and bad, unexpected
sometimes simultaneously.

I have my boarding pass, a map, and not much else.
Another flight is about to take off.

April 12, 2009

Apr 11, 2009

NaPoWriMo #11

Another Day At The Office

Rex arrived late to work, second time this week,
Darn bullet tube train running late, again.
Rex still hoped his boss wouldn’t remember,
wouldn’t ask about the late report.

Report could wait,
Now time to leave,
had to meet Fido at Barkbucks,
For their usual mid-morning dog scone,
and he really needed his double espresso.
If anything urgent were happening
videomail would come through on his Dogberry.

Fido was in great spirits as usual,
New fire hydrants installed on his block.
The good news was that Fido was able
to trade in his week of time-share for one on Earth.
Lulu and Rex had not been to Earth since their honeymoon,
that planet had some of the best smells, best hydrants in the Galaxy.
Didn’t’ hurt that that was where the first Barkbucks opened,
Must remember to reload his card before they leave.

The Dogberry is vibrating,
must be his boss checking on the report.
Back to the old grindstone.

April 11, 2009

NaPoWriMo # 10

Dreams From A Frozen Planet

I’m an Angry Water buffalo
Words spill out easily some days
He sends me deep-space transmissions
Hammered by the harshness of wind
Feeding the obsessions
My attention span is so short
Piles and piles of papers and junk
Some would like to have life all neat and tidy
Dead tired after
I stand at the sink alone in my thoughts,
I’m sitting in the middle of a construction zone
I dreamt of flying last night
I sit waiting for the Papers
Poet touch every hand
Like a dry bone I feel very hard
I am frozen
Crushed down I will rise up
Push and pull of memories
I need to be me
The masters are peering out of the page
Come on down for some Karaoke
You still have some more time
I can’t seem to get to that pen
Ricochet between life’s curve balls
Celebrate through the rhythm and music
I can’t let of go the memories
For many years I was a missing person
My journals are a door to what I am thinking
Liberty, opportunity, hope
Piping hot strong coffee
I feel it will pour out
Things are not always as you plan them
Piles of papers overwhelm
Sometimes I seem to be trapped
On a planet far away,
I am frozen
I can’t let go of the memories
Poetry, is it
In my quiet dream?
The paper fell down from the window as a butterfly
The keys are clicking as the brain
Walks in rhyming rains
It’s true we may not be Shakespeare
Toast stacked four slices deep rests on the plate
The words are in my head
When I was 18 years old
What can I write on?
A person can go through his life
Look inside yourself
What are you working for?
Memories fill my head
Juggling many balls at once
Things are not always as you plan them.

April 10, 2009

Apr 9, 2009

NaPoWriMo # 9


God listens to me

when I’m happy,
when I’m sad,
when I’m alone,
when I’m desperate,
when I’m yelling,
when I’m crying,
when I’m joking,
when I’m complaining,
when I babble in moans and groans that word can’t express,
when I am running,
when I fail,
when I cheat,
when I lie,
when I love,
when mock,
when I am hungry,
God listens

Do I listen when God speaks?

Do I listen

in the rain,
in new beginnings,
in the heat,
in the morning,
in the evening,
in my dark hours,
in tragedy,
in birth,
in happiness,
in the hustle & bustle,
in exhaustion,
in pain,
in death,
in the stillness of dawn,
in slow times,
in chaos,
in the traffic,
in the silence.
God speaks

Am I speaking,
when I should be listening?
Am I silent
when I should be speaking?

God listens and God speaks.

April 9, 2009

Apr 8, 2009

NaPoWriMo # 8

Poem Factory

So many poems are needed,
Every April; I will open a poem factory.
I will build an assembly line and
I will hire out of work autoworkers,
to man the line.
Some will help pound out the rhythm;
others will run a conveyor belt,
a belt that carries all the words to the Wordsmiths.

I will hire out of work steel workers too.
These former steel workers will transfer their skills,
skills the poem factory needs and can use.
Alphabet letters will be heated to 2000 degrees,
mixed in with molten ideas and poured into molds.
These idea molds will be put on the conveyor belt.
Beatniks will inspect the molds as they go by,
then on to the Wordsmiths who are waiting.

The fun begins when the Wordsmiths start.
Pounding and clanging resound as they take the ideas from the line.
Sledgehammers, mallets, chisels, and all sorts of poem-making tools
will be used to form and shape ideas into words.
There’s some metaphor,
Clang, Clang, Clang
There goes some rhyme.
Clatter, Clatter, Clatter
Here comes free verse, with attitude.
Boom, Boom, Boom
End rhyme wants a place in the company.
Metal shavings fly everywhere,
as the Wordsmiths shape the ideas.

The conveyor belt screeches to a halt…
oh no, we forgot to pay our union dues.
The former steel & autoworkers are striking.

April 8, 2009

Apr 7, 2009

NaPoWriMo # 7

Out of Context

Clashing and smashing the garbage man came
and took cookies out of the oven.
Out of context in the wrong space the
garbage man keeps pace,
the pace car is in a race. Nonsense,
he tries to erase his place on the totem pole.

The baker gingerly drove the garbage truck
to the dump just as the timer went off.
He’s at a loss to why the flies are buzzing,
in his ear while the beep, beep of backing up
distracts from him parallel parking and
he can’t remember where he left his cookies.

Did he toss his cookies or lose them
or did he lose his marbles,
at least he still has his steely,
and what is the garbage man
doing in his the kitchen?

April 7, 2009

NaPoWriMo # 6

My Names

Jamie was my boyhood name.
In 6th grade I became James.
Being a good, masculine boy, I couldn’t
Take being called Jamie Summers, the Bionic woman..
A move to a new school, and new state and
I had a new name.

It was more.
Silly as it seems,
that was my Bar Mitzvah
It was my attempt to become a man.
I didn’t live with my father, so there were
no rites of passage,
no coming of age.
My new name was an attempt at growing up,
But it was only a name change.

James is a name that is serious
not overly common,
but I think it fits me,
Even if I miss Jamie, sometimes.

April 6, 2009

Apr 5, 2009

NaPoWriMo # 5 Thunderbird

The old homeless man dove into the pool.
Cool water soothed the summer night’s heat.
The moon reflected off the water,
the man saw all his life’s mistakes reflecting in the moon.

Why did he leave Martha for another,
his lover, the bottle?
His son he never knew; John grew up fatherless.
Why did he leave home at 16,
never speaking to his own father again,
Breaking his mother’s heart?

Liquor’s seductive voice called him,
and he always followed her,
always listened to her
She was his only counselor.

Sure, He’d cleaned up for a while,
Many times,
fooling no one but himself,
but he’d always went back to her, again
and again, and again

He could feel the Thunderbird wine
running through his head floating in the cool water.
He wondered if it was too late,
to late, for him to change,
he thought,
gazing up at the moon.

April 5, 2009

Apr 4, 2009

NaPoWriMo # 4

Haiku Poems

Sleeping Enemy

Conficker headache,
April fools not a big deal.
A big boom later?

Sleepy Eyes

Coffee maker drips,
Caffeine is calling to me.
Steamy, satisfies.

April 4, 2009

Apr 3, 2009

NaPoWriMo # 3: Perspectives

I am in an iron lung and someone just turned up the pressure.
I have a grand piano on my back and just past the 13th floor of a 20-story building.
I am a VW Bug pushing an 18-wheeler up the hills of San Francisco.
I am an ER waiting room with every chair filled and 20 people standing.
I am a pounding headache with no aspirin left in the bottle.
I am a Costco parking lot the day before Thanksgiving.

I am an ocean breeze on a warm summer day.
I am a 2-week vacation and just finished the last day of work.
I am a cold Diet Coke in a frosty glass.
I am a cat lying in a sunny picture window.
I am a quiet Saturday morning with everyone still asleep.
I am a cruise ship pulling away from the dock.

April 3, 2009

Apr 2, 2009

NaPoWriMo # 2: Egg Fiaso

After I woke up
Boiled eggs fell on me.
Can’t we fix this problem?
Don’t think it’s solved that easily,
Ever optimistic, I press on,
Fighting through the egg yokes and whites.
Gingerly I wade through my problem,
Hoping I don’t slip deeper into trouble.
I never thought eggs could cause me such strife,

Just eat these problems for breakfast.

Kellog’s would have been easier this morning,
Lucky Charms, bowl after bowl as a kid, even now.
Maybe some Frosted flakes would have been Great!

Never forget to let Captain Crunch soak in milk,
Otherwise it tears the roof of the mouth.
Put the cereal in perspective, the egg
Quagmire still tripped me up.
Ruined! I think not!
Search for solutions.
Try different options and
Understand that the same old
Vapid ways don’t cut it,
What would Ben Franklin do?
X marks the spot where my eggs landed.
Zealots are chasing me; they’ll never get my eggs!

Apr 1, 2009

NaPoWriMo #1: The Box

My dad was with us for a long time,
long after he was gone.
I had his ashes in the box,
the box they gave me at the funeral home.

The box was in my closet,
at more than one house.
It wasn’t fancy, but a hard brown plastic box.
My friends and I would joke about it,
I had “Bud in a box”
We had a lot of good laughs about it.

Being the oldest, responsibility fell to me.
I didn’t know what to do with it;
we often don’t know what to do with death.
Death’s uncomfortable,
sometimes unspeakable.
Laughter’s easier.

When I married,
Bud made his way to the trunk,
to the trunk of my VW bug,
and there he stayed for a year or more.
My dad rode around with me,
in with the spare tire and gas can,
wherever I went.
My mom said he would have found this hilarious,
riding around in the trunk of a VW Bug.
I agreed.

I thought we should do something
better with my dad,
something better than a brown plastic box.
So I went with my sister and brother;
we drove to Half Moon Bay, to Dad’s favorite beach.
I said a prayer,
after looking around wondering if this was legal,
and poured his ashes into the waves.

It seems less funny today,
looking back through the years,
but I know my dad would laugh with us,
in hearing about his adventures,
riding around in my VW Bug.

April 1, 2009