National Poetry Month Celebration 2019 - Post Poems Here!

[HLemma]

Messages

..........

I wonder about the rain on my roof,
its tension and release at once,

those particular drops
in that particular order.

And the wind,
how it must carry something -

a kiss or a song,
the steam of someone’s herbal tea,

perhaps the scent of a woman’s hair
or the stench of a vagrant.

Then the audacity of decay
to be lovely -

girders rust, planks rot
in certain patterns;

some nails are rocked loose,
others are spared.

How is it decided?
I wait for the sake of waiting

with questions that are only mine.

[NicoleMichaels]

BLUE STREAK

Like a wooden roller coaster with an out-and-back design,
she’s ranked, the chain lift carrying riders up the first slope
and dropping them, mouths open, ties flying.  

Last night, a period movie about Bonnie and Clyde,
nobody could find each other in the dust cloud
after the chase, but the tire marks told the story.

I am always visiting empty houses, sinks of dirty
dishes that prove someone has just been there.
A screen door waits to be slammed.

Because everyone loves a roller coaster and a gangster
hero, hates a bank. I’m gonna love you like a new dollar bill,
drop you over the rail on the last hill. 　

[Tracy Mitchell]

Indar! Hugh! Nicole!

What wonderful trio of poems to help launch this venture.

Welcome to each of you. So glad you are here.

T

[Gyppo]

NAPO 1 - 2019

Coins in my pocket.

For the first time in ages I have coins,
jingling in my pockets.
Rubbing shoulders with my keys.
A year of using my debit card,
appreciating the simplicity,
but never feeling quite complete.

They won't buy much,
just enough for a fish and chip supper,
and maybe a can of drink.

But they represent an ancient freedom,
the lack of a paper trail, 
no electrons disturbed by my purchase.

I've given it a good shot but...
I'm not yet ready for a cashless society.

The weight in my pocket feels good,
just as it did when I was a child.

Gyppo

[Vaughn Neeld]

1. Kansas

There is something magical 
about wading through a sea
of wheat, the ripe heads
brushing heavily against bare legs.

 

[Tinker1111]

April 1

Apothecary

white and blue
pill box

lids snap closed
click open

sort and store
prescribed

medications
each day

palmed, swallowed
routine

warnings glossed
until . . . .
~~Judi Van Gorder

[Tracy Mitchell]

Gyppo -- The feel of the weight in one's pocket.

Vaughn - welcome. It sounds like Kansas wheat is a worthy relative of North Dakota wheat.

Judy - what an unexpected surprise! the pill regimen - routine, until . . nicely down

Cheers all.

T

[Dave]

What a great start here to the month. Already excited about it all.

The realisation

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Post by Dave » Mon, 01 Apr 2019, 14:26

Got to get started somehow so here goes:

Two used coffee cups stand on our kitchen table.

One empty. The other half full.

There is just enough space between them

for two entwined hands and a lie

I am only now beginning to understand.

 

I spill grains of powder into the filter,

watch heated water drain through steam

into the pot, leave a sludge of coffee.

The aroma is all distant hills

and half-remembered whispers;

 

you skirting the questions, answers

more fog than clear day. We never

drifted, but at some moment came apart.

I realise now a heart hates a void,

yours sought to fill it without me.

 

[Tracy Mitchell]

Love it, Dave!!

[Dave]

Thanks Tom
The stadard is high, this will be quite a challenge. Colm is your Poem based on a short film by any chance. no idea what it was called but won the Oscars about twenty years ago with Pretty much that story. Very funny.