Napowrimo day 5

The Frog Chorus ft Burbling Brook

Today the babble of the little stream
As it flows past the golden beach
Is both a greeting and a fond "adieu".
She is always going somewhere and still,
Inside her something pulls her heart downstream.

Today the birds are fighting,
Loudly for their own
Like teenage
Boys, all bluster
And no substance. "This
Tree is mine and she is the greatest!"

Or perhaps they are noisy weathermen
Loud newscasters of the obvious
"The sun came up! The
Sun is up!"

Today the frogs
Are humming in their
Temporary lonliness "Is anyone
There?" "Is anyone there who will love
Me?" "Just for the night." "Just for the night."

Napowrimo day 4

The prompt was emotional poem without emotional words

Picture the smile of the sunshine
In the springtime freely bouncing
Off the flowers flying towards
Your light eyes.

Listen to the bright cry
Of songbirds trying to find
Love or simply
Chiming in the springtime chorus.

Napowrimo day 3

Meandering poem

Evening prayer


Every night I say a prayer for my feet.
I start with the way the connect to the ground
I start with the way they push
Push their roots deep into the earth
To push the earth
Fast past my churning calves and bony ankles.

The next prayer is for my hands,
The way they shape
The way they hold
The way they tear down.
I give an extra prayer for the thick calluses
On the corners of my palm
A layer of armor between myself and the world.

When I pray I give thanks for each vertebrae in my spine
From my vestigial tail
Up thirty three hard bones
Interlaced with clever nerves
To the delicate formations holding my neck proud
And my chin high

I say a prayer for my skull
Protecting my mind
And my ribs,
Protecting my heart
And my heart
And my aorta
And my skin and my eyes and my ears and my tongue and my liver and my pancreas

The last prayer I say, I say for my spirt
Curled up tight in the blanket of body
I wish it good night make sure to whisper, before sleep
I love you.

Napowrimo day 2

The prompt today was to write a poem asking questions
This poem was entirely inspired by Lorie Moore's Who Will Run the Frog Hospital? which is a delightful but heartbreaking book.

Who will run the frog hospital?

Who will run the frog hospital?
When the lily-soft girls
Are gone from the swamp
Who will kiss the soft green heads?
Who will cradle the long green toes?

Why do you hear a great croak and think man?
Why do you see that slimy green skin and think prince?

Napowrimo day 1

The prompt for today was "instructional poem"

How to Survive Heartbreak:

Have you ever watched the sunrise in the wintertime?
Felt the cold leech into your bones as you shivered under the morning dawn
Did you notice how gray the sky was?
How gray the ground and the trees were?
The sun, she took so long
To creep
Above
The horizon
It’s just too much for her some days

And when she is up,
No matter how hot she shines
And how long you stare
Trying to burn her beauty into your eyes
She cannot reach you.

Along the Hudson

I drive all the way to Poughkeepsie to take the train down into New York

Even through it’s a full hour faster to take the line that runs from white plains

Because the train from Poughkeepsie hugs the Hudson River

I get onto the train and I make sure to sit on the river side

And although I have hours of homework to do

I cannot bear to look away from the river

Shining in the first sunny day of springtime

Along the river I look for birds

I see migrating canada geese in synchronized Vs

Finally returning to this land as the sunlight soaks into the rocky earth

I see scraggly crows joking from the tree tops and power lines,

This train full of people is the finest joke they’ve seen in years and god knows, they needed a good laugh

There’s one hawk

Too proud for the bent crooked maple beneath it, I know she is looking for opportunity,

Her hard eyes and dirty feathers hint at a pain I know she’ll never tell me

But she is sure to tell me about the beauty and power of her wings and the way they move even the air to her will.

On the train I see the rolling hills of the hudson valley.

I know the giant who lived in peace with the Haudenosaunee people

Who tread lightly across her back

I see her strong shoulders and I sense the strength of her legs

I am awed by the curve of her belly into the soft green-ness of her shores

And I weep with her that we all forgot her tremendous beauty

And in this way I too am the Hudson River.

Along the river I count every single bud

On every single tip of every single branch of every single tree

Birch, maple, oak, pine, beech, aspen, and poplar

They all promise:

“Springtime”

Whisper:

“Rebirth, life”

Each bud is a friend and lover

I cannot wait to meet each individual leaf.

I’m particularly fond of the red maples in their

Pink bundles, turning the sky and hillsides a cheery red.

I sit and watch the river go by and I watch the springtime start

And I feel the tides pull at my chest.

I would drive countless hours for this.

I universe you

Dedicated to Andre Santana for his poem "I universe you"

I looked for the stars in your eyes

Because they told me I could follow your Polaris to find my truest North.

So I gazed deep and

Fell 

Hard. 

I found countless constellations in technicolor  rainbow.

I found nebulas of celestial creations

And supergiant deaths of unparalleled gravity.

I found the speed of light and 

I understood the background electric magnetic radiation

And traced it back to the beginning of all time and light and heat and energy

The big bang. 

But I think they forgot to mention that there's no sound in space.

They forgot to mention the way stars would warp gravity

And twist spacetime around your heavenly body.

I forgot to calculate drag from my irregular shapes

And I struggled to make sense of Newton's third law:

For every action there is an equal but opposite reaction.

You're space was just too big,

Too alien

For me to find my bearings. 

I tried to make sense of the universe in you

But now I'm just floating

Alone

In the dark.