National Poetry Month Celebration 2019 - Post Poems Here!

[Lecram06]

Verbiage in the rough...

Stuff

I have too much stuff, or so, everyone tells me.
“Get rid of your hoard,” they say.
But what of my hobbies and creative interests,
photographs and keepsakes?

I admonish me. Do I really need to keep
those baby teeth to glue to a picture frame
with place related rocks my children
presented to me as if they were diamonds?
These are more precious to me.
I still get a kick out of the creations of art and little-a-ture.

I’m advised, “Take pictures.”
But there is something to be said for the tangible,
tactile.
Concert tickets and t-shirts,
dried flowers picked from that field of picnics,
and smiley faces drawn on photobooth craziness at the fair
recall the smells, the music, and the laughter.
My homage to an unsettled life in 32 moves.
So many memories to forget, I fear, forgetting.

These things I cling to give as much as they take.
My family thinks my things are more important to me than they are.
Nothing is further from the truth.
I hold things
to remember.
I may no longer visit those memories
after the reminders are gone.
You wouldn’t throw out your diamonds, why do I have to?

~Deb                Your last line nails it. I relish powerful last lines. Marcel

Verbiage in the rough...

Stuff

I have too much stuff, or so, everyone tells me.
“Get rid of your hoard,” they say. 
But what of my hobbies and creative interests,
photographs and keepsakes?

I admonish me. Do I really need to keep
those baby teeth to glue to a picture frame
with place related rocks my children
presented to me as if they were diamonds?
These are more precious to me.
I still get a kick out of the creations of art and little-a-ture.

I’m advised, “Take pictures.”
But there is something to be said for the tangible,
tactile. 
Concert tickets and t-shirts,
dried flowers picked from that field of picnics,
and smiley faces drawn on photobooth craziness at the fair
recall the smells, the music, and the laughter.
My homage to an unsettled life in 32 moves. 
So many memories to forget, I fear, forgetting.

These things I cling to give as much as they take.
My family thinks my things are more important to me than they are.
Nothing is further from the truth.
I hold things 
to remember.
I may no longer visit those memories
after the reminders are gone.
You wouldn’t throw out your diamonds, why do I have to?

~Deb

 

You last line nails it. I favor strong last lines that linger on with me. Marcel
 

[Vaughn Neeld]

Thank you all for the exciting National Poetry Month entries. I finished up the last one, and then became so ill I wasn't able to come back and visit until now. I see that some of you have posted since my last entry, and I like this last sip of delight for 2019.

May you all create wonderful images and live fantastic lives. Von

[Tracy Mitchell]

Von -- I can't tell you how wonderful it was to have you join in the festivities.  The joy you find in capturing moments on paper shines in your work.

Thank you for being a part of this.

Same time next year. 

[ajduclos]

Hello NaPo mates -
I've finally returned from my trek into land of the entitled 40-50 year old's, over the top revelry and golf and activity, non-stop, no time to think and reflect.  I learned quickly that this septuagenarian simply can't keep up!!!  And how badly I need my quiet time for introspection and renewal.  I also surprisingly learned something from this juxtaposition to the contemplative and creative world of writing - that there are no judgments and expectations - which is precisely what all you NaPo poets were telling me but I wasn't hearing.  I may yet grow up.
I've caught up with all the last 3 or 4 days of poetry I missed being away - simply more amazing stuff.  I'm humbled and filled. 
This songwriter is working on a song in honor of The Tangled Branch NaPo Month 2019, as a gift to you all  - I hope I can figure out a way to share it with you all when I get it recorded.
Thank you all for allowing me into your world. 
Aj        

[Vaughn Neeld]

Today I went back through April's offerings and enjoyed everyone's work all over again. One poem in particular stood out for me this time because I failed to "digest" it the first time around.

4/12 poem

When Night Comes

stars swarm, collide
and I stand on my deck—

I do not enter the grass,
my yard full of shards.

by George

George, I love this poem. I have a marvelous deck on my mountain home and some nights the stars look so close that I feel I could just reach up and pick them like picking apples from a tree. The last two lines just are especially evocative, especially on nights with heavy dew, still recovering from a late evening rain, or wintry lacings of frost.

Excellent.

[indar]

Thank you all for allowing me into your world.

Ummmm, Aj, I hope you consider yourself part of this world henceforth

[ajduclos]

Thank you, Indar.  I am honored and humbled.  You guys are all so awesome.
Aj 

[Colm Roe]

Thank you, Indar.  I am honored and humbled.  You guys are all so awesome.
Aj 

Not 'you' aj...WE! 
Together we do good!
I'm exhausted...and in the process of picking out my favourite coffin...but it's so hard to choose.
So I might be around for a while yet 

[Gyppo]

NAPO 30 - 2019

I could take a bus ride

I could take a bus ride,
travel to the place she lived,
and roam the streets.

Maybe pass her in the crowd,
each of us unrecognised,
unaware, and never knowing.

I could visit her last known address
and maybe knock on the door,
possibly finding an echo of her life.

Or perhaps I should stay at home,
pen in hand, 
and just enjoy the memories.

For I am older now, half-set in my ways,
and my chair, like my memories,
is mostly comfortable.

Gyppo

I did it   I took the journey, thinking it was time to 'lay a ghost'.  But the ghost wasn't there.  I didn't really expect her to still be there 50 years later.

But nobody answered the door so the question about how she turned out remains open,

It was a blazing hot day though, and having struggled up a very steep hill, I sat on the wall for half an hour and enjoyed some sandwiches and a bottle of water before going away again  A few of the neighbours gave me an odd look and there was some 'curtain twitching' going on.

They'll have a new mystery to discuss over their barbecues  

I told my sister and she said the poor girl, who would now be an old lady of seventy, was probably there,hiding behind the sofa.

It was a grand day out though.