I'm wasn't sure what to write about today; I like the NaPoWriMo prompt for the day, which is to write a sea shanty, but I am not feeling it. However, I did score a box of word magnets at St Vinnie's today, so I decided to randomly pull a few words out and use them as prompts.
The words: always, carry, between, sage, fish, responsible, underwear
The poem:
Always
Fish never have to wear underwear
Or carry a purse full of credit cards and ID's
And responsibilities
And for that I envy them.
A fish never ponders being a fish
And between you and me
That makes a fish infinitely
More sage than we'll ever be.
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
NaPoWriMo 4/2/2013
Ignoring the NaPoWriMo prompt for today, I feel compelled to free-write on twelve. My youngest daughter turns twelve today, and I can't help but be a bit introspective.
Twelve
Twelve was a good year, decent enough for
Having been completely uprooted from my idyllic,
Slow, southern drawl, country girl existence
And set down abruptly in the middle of upper crust
Old Republican money horse country Northern Virginia.
Sixth grade was a mishmash of discomfort and discoveries
Oh, shopping for clothes in thrift stores is not cool
Oh, brand names are cool (but I never figure why),
Oh, we're like some of the poorest people on our block,
Oh, I have little breasts growing in,
Oh, the porno mag that some classmate stole from his dad's closet
Shocking my brain at recess one late spring afternoon.
And there were horses and stables,
Friends with in-ground pools and three-story stone mansions,
Homes For Sale In the Low $500,000s.
Everyone's father worked for the military, or the government, or large private corporations.
I barely had a clue
I spent hours choreographing dance and gymnastics routines
Running through the woods, discovering, pretending, hiding,
Collecting old glass milk bottles and other abandoned relics with
Stories to tell of some time long since gone,
I listened to these stories while rooting up salamanders and turtles by the creek
Twelve and not yet cynical,
Still believing,
Forever dreaming of some sort of being free.
Twelve
Twelve was a good year, decent enough for
Having been completely uprooted from my idyllic,
Slow, southern drawl, country girl existence
And set down abruptly in the middle of upper crust
Old Republican money horse country Northern Virginia.
Sixth grade was a mishmash of discomfort and discoveries
Oh, shopping for clothes in thrift stores is not cool
Oh, brand names are cool (but I never figure why),
Oh, we're like some of the poorest people on our block,
Oh, I have little breasts growing in,
Oh, the porno mag that some classmate stole from his dad's closet
Shocking my brain at recess one late spring afternoon.
And there were horses and stables,
Friends with in-ground pools and three-story stone mansions,
Homes For Sale In the Low $500,000s.
Everyone's father worked for the military, or the government, or large private corporations.
I barely had a clue
I spent hours choreographing dance and gymnastics routines
Running through the woods, discovering, pretending, hiding,
Collecting old glass milk bottles and other abandoned relics with
Stories to tell of some time long since gone,
I listened to these stories while rooting up salamanders and turtles by the creek
Twelve and not yet cynical,
Still believing,
Forever dreaming of some sort of being free.
Monday, April 1, 2013
NaPoWriMo 4/1/13
The prompt for the 1st day of NaPoWriMo 2013 is to use the 1st line of another poem to start a new poem. I took the easy way out.
Global Warming in Eugene, OR
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Even though it is not yet June, or May,
or even April,....but merely March?
And the weather is dry, warm and sunny
But I can't help but feel strange and funny
Because it seems like there should be rain a-drumming
But there isn't...it just keeps never coming.
Global Warming in Eugene, OR
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Even though it is not yet June, or May,
or even April,....but merely March?
And the weather is dry, warm and sunny
But I can't help but feel strange and funny
Because it seems like there should be rain a-drumming
But there isn't...it just keeps never coming.
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