A Poem

A poem is a waterfall of words

cascading over rock

sometimes flowing

sometimes not

it pools

here

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A Poem

Springtime Mating

There is a horny robin

banging into the reflection of itself

against the glass window he thinks he found a mate

it is cold and hard

repelling his every move

yet he keeps coming back

handsome with his orange breast

sits at the top of the apple tree

contemplating his new approach

and mumbling

that feathered bitch

Springtime Mating

Tear or Tear

Of all the words that sound the same

some appear the same

you cannot know the difference

by how it’s spelled

Take for instance tear and tear

not one word but two

which is which

is hard to do

There is a tear for you.

The tear was on her sleeve.

A tear went through her heart.

Each tear moved them apart.

This tear brought memories of you.

Many tears made her leave.

This little tear is the start of something big.

Tear or Tear

I Poet

I

I came out of the canal listening

for my own voice

with my first breath

I heard it as a cry

I found darkness in my eyes

til opened to the light

I was that baby you wanted to be boy

I was made girl

all parts of me to receive touch

to open

to flower

 

II

Listening for my own voice

it navigated out of my thoughts

my mind spoke a product of time

of culture of possibilities

of bouquets gathered in spring

it was good to be who I am

 

III

Now the voice knows its own cry

weeps into the light and dark

listens with belladonna ears

what hallucinations will arise

I Poet

Going Off Road

I want to take to the back road

or am I too old

4×4 off road vehicle

on dirt path no obstacle

nothing to stop me

you call it crazy

big tires to maneuver

over rocks and boulder

need clearance below

good for both rain and snow

off the grid going solar

must carry one week of water

I want to go where others can’t go

to find places I don’t yet know

_______________

NaPoWriMo a list of something

Going Off Road

Writer’s Block

Have writer’s block? Don’t know where to start? Write anything even if you have to write the same thing over and over again. Even if you have to write the same thing over and over again. Even if you have to write the same thing over and over again.

Poem made from the writer’s block writing:

Don’t block

Write

____________

NaPoWriMo prompt a day late but I had writer’s block

Writer’s Block

Django Fontina

I had been practicing my django fontina for almost a year. There was something about being somewhere or nowhere and dropping the postcard poem addressed to someone I never knew. It started in the summer after my third grade when I entered my name in a postcard pyramid scheme. It was more fun to get than to give. I got postcards of moose in Canada, Lake Okoboji, farmland in Indiana, and cats. My favorite were the cats; cats in baskets, cat in a shoe, cat being fed some milk. At some point the getting and giving stopped and I was left with a pile of postcards, a few scrawled out words from other soon to be fourth graders and all those images.

My adult postcarding has way more words. Most adults like words but are limited by the amount of space they are allowed on the back (or front) of a small piece of thick paper called the postcard.  I enjoy being limited in my words.

My receiving django fontina is limited because I don’t always know where I am half the time and the P.O. won’t forward.

return to sender

poems sent into the world

to complete stranger

_____________________

Doing a double take on dVerse prompt on “poem” (How Does a Poem Mean? I think that is a book I studied by John Ciardi) and NaPoWriMo on switching up so in this case it is better to get than to give.

Django Fontina