Bethink (NaPoWriMo 29)

I recollect that I forget,
So I wrap memories
Around synapses,

Helping me remember,

Learning to Polka,

In Edith’s Kitchen.

To cock my elbow,

When firing from third to first.

To think more of her,

Than of me.

To chew with,

My mouth shut.

Touching closed lips,

In Kindergarten.

Drawing bath water,

for Leonine.

To swing level and

Try not to kill it.

The long dark arms,
Of my guitar teacher,
Wrapped around me,

As she teaches me to fret.

To sit still
Don’t move,  remember.

Broken and Bowed (NaPoWriMo 28)

(This poetry month challenge is essentially to tell a story from end to beginning.)

Daddy wins the cigar.

One rib, two ribs broke.

Rushed to the E.R.

Trussed to the gurney

 

His eyes stitched shut,

Unwillingly by pain

Dad tarnished his crown,

When he fell down.

 

Measles of the highway,

Popped right away,

A Road rash,

Quick broke out.

 

He stayed down,

After three rounds of over and up,

And over and up and over and up,

Then mercifully, finally, down.

 

Tumbling when,

He hit the drain,

Cutting a corner,

Cause he was losing.

 

First one to the driveway,

Racing bikes.

Dad and Daughter,

The race was on.

Responding to the Call (NaPoWriMo 26 A Call & Response Poem)

 

Betcha’ can’t do it.

I’m gonna do it.

Write a poem a day,

I’m gonna do it

For thirty days,

I’m gonna do it.

You’ll never do it,

I’m gonna do it.

Lot’s of styles,

I’m gonna do it.

You’ll never stick to it,

I’m gonna do it.

But there’s a sonnet,

I’m gonna do it.

Call and Response too?

I’m gonna do it

April 30
Hallelujah, I did it.

High Falutin’ Words Meet the Common Folk (NaPoWriMo 24)

 

Syzygy aligns planets,
moons and Suns,Like little ducks in a row.

Verisimilitude reminds me of,
And smells like,

What is or isn’t a fake out.

Carpathian!
Shoot, there I’ve spit it out.

Don’t get to say that every day.

Is alfresco the white goop,
They throw on fettuccine,

Or another name for picnic?

Is Alfredo, Batman’s butler,
Or another word for,

Fettucini’s last name?

Mess with the time space continuum,
And I’ll still get to the future,

Before you.

And, finally, Ethereal biscuits,
Fashioned with gossamer flour,
Are light and flaky.

A Sonnet on Aging (NaPoWriMo Day 23)

Seems quick, time speeds by fast as I grow old
And days flash by with great alacrity.
Shadows lengthen and long night waxes cold.

And youth no more quickens fresh growth in me.

And eyes once sure to catch faintest flutter
Strain hard to grasp in ever darker pall.
Peering dimly through the shad’wy shutter.

Sight fades away despite sincerest call.

Ear that once thrilled to catch the robin’s song
Must seek repeat that snaps away pleasure,
And words half heard, capture meaning all wrong.

Hearing is lost with all its sweet treasure.

   And all this sore loss leaves no taste for that
   Which forms society and gentle chat.

Exclusive Earth Day Report (NaPoWriMo Day 22)

Breaking news.
This just in,

From Heaven.

According to a
Written report

From Earth’s Creator.

“God saw everything that he had made,
and, behold,

it was very good.”

But,
In this exclusive,

Earth Day Update.

God says,
“My creation is

In Trouble.

A water crisis is coming.
Climate change is here.

Millions hunger.

Earth is pocked
With land mines,
And pollution,
Far from my mind
At the time,

Of Creation.”

Something like this,
Happened once before,

Long ago, and I quote.

“Now the earth was corrupt in God’s sight,
And the earth was filled with violence.
And God saw the earth, and behold,
It was corrupt,
And all flesh had corrupted their way

On the earth.”

Heal it.
Clean it up.

Be a good steward.

Start with your heart
Extend to your mind,
Begin Now.

Free Sneezy (NaPoWriMo Day 21)

(The challenge was to be the voice of a minor character from a fairy tale or myth and write from said character’s point of view.)

Digging for Diamonds,
Exudes Exotic,

Doesn’t it?

Listen, I have Asthma.
So stick me in that mine

And I sneeze.

Don’t label me, sneezy
It’s not politically correct.

You want to be called “barrel belly?”

Dopey may be Dopey.
Why call him that?

It adds to his pain.

Doc is Doc, big deal.
He knows a little chemistry

And drives an RV.

Bashful’s got a lot to be
Bashful about.

His name shouldn’t draw attention.

If you’d been through
What Grumpy’s been through,

You’d be Grumpy too.

Why tag us with “Dwarf?”
We’re not as tall as some.

But we are inch-for-inch special.

Don’t try to be clever,
Barrel Belly,

With “vertically challenged” either.

By-the-way, Happy and Sleepy
Are Doc’s top

Customers.

Mainly, I’m saying,
Get me outta’ the mine.
It’s is bad for my asthma.

My Kenning Cutie (NaPoWriMo Prompt 20)

For good or bad
when my bucket grows dry,
when emotions ebb and spirits die,

I go to spirit-lifter.

It always helps,
when my life is dragging.
when bored to death and verve is sagging,

There is excitement-giver.

And on those days,
when my face sadly frowns,
when they cue up, send in downcast clowns,

Ah, Ha, smiling mirth-birther.

There are some times,
when my heart stops caring,
when compassion stalls,  there’s no sharing,

Tearly-beloved there’s you.

 

Day 20 prompt:write a poem that consists of kenning-like descriptions of that thing or person. For example, you might call a cat a mouse-stalker, quiet-walker, bird-warner, purr-former, etc.