National Poetry Month Celebration 2019 - Post Poems Here!

[ajduclos]

Beautiful, Sharon... I know that person, that fear....... again, so much with so few words.

[Gyppo]

NAPO 4 - 2019

Arthur

Arthur wore the Army like a second skin,
an invisible but tangible uniform
above his tattoos and hairy arms.

A cheerfully simian little fellow, 
bright brown eyes peering,
eternally curious.

Comfortable at the rank of Sergeant.
A born warrior who could stay still,
but preferred to keep busy.

Which is why he squatted in the garden,
armed with a set of poker dice 
slipped from a worn leather case.

He tried to teach me the game,
a twelve year old boy he thought was bored
and in need of a diversion.

After ten minutes or so,
baffling me with meaningless terms 
he smiled and put them away.

"I bet you don't like cards either."
"No, sorry.  Not my thing."
He smiled again.  "It's not for everyone."

He gave me a searching look, laughed quietly.
"But when you do find a passion
I'd not like to stand in your way."

Looking back after all these years
I'd bet he was one of those sergeants.
The sort his men trusted implicitly.

Gyppo

[Tinker1111]

Judi - I just got back from a 4 mile hike, log on and see your poem. Nice take off on "I will...". Is your blog easily findable?

T

Thanks Tracy,  My blog is at PMO, Tinker's Blog ,  I am trying to put up something each Thursday but because I wanted to recognize International Walking Day, I posted today.  

~~Judi
 

[indar]

April 4

Heitkamp

The senator says she represents 
Americans in the hinterland.

Hinterland.

Some words dip and spin in the ether
trailing bits of worn fabric, newspaper shred,
old photographs.

Hinterland, a hind-end of a country,
flattened white under perpetual winter,
peopled by men in parkas, icicles hang in their beards,
their wives' cold stares can cut you down--
you with your soft, citified ways.

Hinterland children are suspicious of strangers,
all are suspicious of change,
a nation unto itself
unwilling to let go of preconceived notions 
about those of us not them.


(disclaimer: half my relatives on my mother's side farmed in North Dakota --I dearly loved visiting them)
 

[Dave]

So many good poems. Sharon your poems simply get better as they go on, the last one is moving, simple but with depth. Tracy, no need really to complement on your ability to reveal layer after layer of any topic, Indar a strong and elegant expose of hinterland, Gyypo a true original as are you Colm, finding endless waysvto cover death, Ajduclos very clever, Vaughn traversing a unique path and George building up skillfully those precise minutae of everyday with each carefully chosen word and all those not mentioned here who enriching each day and beyond. Thanks

[Gyppo]

April 4

Heitkamp

The senator says she represents 
Americans in the hinterland.

Hinterland.

Some words dip and spin in the ether
trailing bits of worn fabric, newspaper shred,
old photographs.

Hinterland, a hind-end of a country,
flattened white under perpetual winter,
peopled by men in parkas, icicles hang in their beards,
their wives' cold stares can cut you down--
you with your soft, citified ways.

Hinterland children are suspicious of strangers,
all are suspicious of change,
a nation unto itself
unwilling to let go of preconceived notions 
about those of us not them.


(disclaimer: half my relatives on my mother's side farmed in North Dakota --I dearly loved visiting them)

I feel as if I know these people, and that cautious cold stare of the reserved wives

They'll not always rule out new ideas or change, but if you try to force it on them they instinctively 'stand with their ancestors'.  That way they'll never throw the baby out with the bathwater.

Gyppo
 

[Vaughn Neeld]

4.

Those People

I just don't know
what it is about

those people.

They just seem to think
anything they want
they should get.

I've worked hard 
all my life,
and I've paid
for everything
I've got.

I simply
don't understand why
they think
we should give them
anything!

If they'd had
to do what I've done,
and not squandered
their money,
they wouldn't be
knocking on my door.

I see them there,
just wasting their time
doing nothing,
and at age 75
I'm still working
and not asking
for a thing
but to be let be.

I deserve everything I get
because it wasn't just
handed to me.
I never asked anything
from anyone, and now?

those danged people

want to raise my taxes again!
 

[ajduclos]

Gyppo - what a wonderful narrative, Arthur, and what wisdom...........

[Tracy Mitchell]

Vaughn -- almost in the Get Off My Lawn genre, but more gentle.

Gyppo - another good narrative. I like your stories and snippets.

Indar - Hinterland Children - a little wider net and I'm included, and don't mind a bit.

Colm - still loving your stuff.

So great reading all of this fine writing. It is fun trying to keep up.

Cheers.

[ajduclos]

Day 4

Snowdrops 

Acknowledging Joe's birthday
the Snowdrops emerge
from their winter crypt
newly exposed
to the giver of life
forming their bells
seasonally white
delicate
chancing the vagaries
of early Spring
in this part of Maine
known as South Finland.  

Time marches
inexorably onward -
denying aging's realities
denies the truth of life.  

As one contemplates
the vastness of cosmic
metaphysical inevitability
death and rebirth
asleep and awake
freeze and thaw
like the tiny Snowdrops
ringing in the season
and natal anniversary
beauty comes from rising
and greeting the sun
from living today
from aging and being young.