Being a parent has not been the same as being apparent. I struggle
to remember 17, and why I forgot – the brick wall towering
between that child with a fearful heart and the exposed-nerve world
and this one, here, raging again
/st those profanely boring comfortable shoes
worn by his teachers, and their teaching
to the tests.
Where was he happy?
Is, I suppose. Is.
Maybe by flipping the
bird lid and asking the most obvious question:
how to cut through the poetic bullshit
the candling words, the license to lie
because turning a noun into an adjective is cute
but doesn’t show him happy.
Maybe it’s this backflip into the waves. Maybe it’s the fine arc
inscribed by a frisbee, from his hand to mine. Maybe it’s not
any of these, just the steady breathing that you hear
when sharing the same room, which isn’t something
you can do when you live apart.
Maybe here’s the switch: to take the lines on this screen
Turns of the Tale: Poetic Surprise prompt, in the imaginary garden with real toads.
and linked to
, NaPoWriMo, where Maureen prompts us to look for the sound of home. This would be its antonym, perhaps.
the Blind Melon version: 3 is a Magic Number
one’s too lonely
two’s quite homey
but three make family
it’s always 3
for bad news or babies
not to conflate the 2
three the witchy nipple
I shouldn’t go on. It’s past 3. But something wrinkles
the blanket, burrs the saddle, spurs the flank
even when little’s left in the tank
more fragments and NOT haiku, this time for Hedgewitch’s
Poetry to the Third Power prompt in the imaginary garden with real toads.
off the almanac prompt, but linked to
Day 17, NaPoWriMo 2016
image by Karin Gustafson, via real toads
tongues. get lost in tongues:
French say ‘main’ for hand
so is remain
hand it over again?
over your eyes a visor
under your pits: cold
wave in the air like you just don’t care
is the main thing
main once meant open ocean
so is remain
being again at sea?
do you squint at the distance?
or shiver in her somber embrace
as each wave brings you closer, takes you far
from the main thing
fragment for Karin’s
In the Remains of the Month prompt in the imaginary garden with real toads.
, NaPoWriMo 2016, if not really to the prompt
for the remainder of the month I’ll count
backwards, reverse, but if I start
today I’ll be one short
and not know what to do
at the beginning, at the end
with one shiny day
perhaps you’ll tell me: start
there will be enough light
a 55 with a twist on the doubles prompt for
Day 15, NaPoWriMo 2016
not linked, but visit Angie’s challenging
word list prompt in the imaginary garden with real toads
Indiscipline, by King Crimson. Fair Use
I repeat myself when under stress
all the damn time
singing past stop signs with Crimson or the Heads
as singing is more of a caress
than screaming – it’s a sign
that I’ve stopped time to care, my head’s awake
just a bit longer – this time, the skull’s not dead –
but should the song stop – well, then, I didn’t brake
san san for Day 14, NaPoWriMo 2016. Visit the other poets for better examples.
not to Kerry’s interesting
In Other Words prompt today at imaginary garden with real toads, so not linked, but pay a visit for inspiration.
Caplica Czaszek in southwestern Poland. image via real toads
we are the same
dust as you, compressed
we are the same bones
as you, undressed
to add you to our story
to Mama Zen’s
If These Walls Could Talk prompt, in the imaginary garden with real toads
, NaPoWriMo 2016
I is the largest
idea, us the smallest
so how do we go
from stabbing the earth’s green eyes
how do we make I smaller?
a tanka linked to
The Tuesday Platform, in the imaginary garden with real toads
Day 12, NaPoWriMo 2016