National Poetry Month Celebration 2019 - Post Poems Here!

[Lecram06]

I still live in the middle ages, devoid of any awareness of things technological. I easily get lost in open space, fail to read the signpost in the Alps, walk to Munich instead of Prague. And seeing a computer screen, I panic and want to go milk a dairy cow. At least there I have only four choices with two hands. All to say that, however clear the directions, and Tracy's tutoring, I get lost when I want to make a comment for no reason at all. I suffer from my own generated unpredictability. So Dave and Nicole and Deb "et alii et aliae", forgive me my self inflicted duck tape silence. There is brilliance and heart in this community. Marcel

[Lecram06]

Ah! I found myself. Gyppo, your poem reminds me of the French Canadian songs of my youth praising women with brown hair. Would the bard consider light beer? marcel

[binx]

4/10 poem

Vagabonds

We attempt to heal
our children like some kind
of morality play—

pushing them like leaves
into creek water, and watch
as they float away.         

[Vaughn Neeld]

Day 10

At times,
I miss my mother.
She could identify
every bird.

When I think of this,
I find it absurd
that she could do that
but never recognize me.

[ajduclos]

I still live in the middle ages, devoid of any awareness of things technological. I easily get lost in open space, fail to read the signpost in the Alps, walk to Munich instead of Prague. And seeing a computer screen, I panic and want to go milk a dairy cow. At least there I have only four choices with two hands. All to say that, however clear the directions, and Tracy's tutoring, I get lost when I want to make a comment for no reason at all. I suffer from my own generated unpredictability. So Dave and Nicole and Deb "et alii et aliae", forgive me my self inflicted duck tape silence. There is brilliance and heart in this community. Marcel

Marcel - there is such a wonderful poem glaring out of this prose rant !!!!
Binx - Vagabonds...  yes, oh yes - wonderful
Vaughn - what we want the most often eludes us
Dave - Sacralization... simply too beautiful and delicate to touch 

So so much wonderful writing by you all - I'm humbled to try my writing hand in your midst.

[ajduclos]

Day 10 
 

Dentist
 
In 20 minutes the dentist chair
will hold me awkwardly snug
uncomfortable
out of control
trapped
under a glaring cycloptic orb
naked to peering prying eyes
peering prying hands

equipped with mirror and weapons
intrusive
choking
crammed nearly down my throat
mercilessly scraping
grinding
polishing
reflected reverse images 

Biannual cleaning
for that requisite Ipana smile 

I will have pearly whites
where ivory remains 

I'd rather shovel snow  

[Tracy Mitchell]

I still live in the middle ages, devoid of any awareness of things technological. I easily get lost in open space, fail to read the signpost in the Alps, walk to Munich instead of Prague. And seeing a computer screen, I panic and want to go milk a dairy cow. At least there I have only four choices with two hands. All to say that, however clear the directions, and Tracy's tutoring, I get lost when I want to make a comment for no reason at all. I suffer from my own generated unpredictability. So Dave and Nicole and Deb "et alii et aliae", forgive me my self inflicted duck tape silence. There is brilliance and heart in this community. Marcel

Geez, Marcel! -- take the return key to that paragraph, end with ". . . only four choices with two hands." and you've got a damn good poem. Honestly, you can't write non-poetically, can you?

[Tracy Mitchell]

#10
~

[indar]

April 10

Travelogue

Mojave-warmed air vaults the Laguna Range,
flowing in from distant islands, salt water cools.
On a silvery horizon clouds pile up
commanding the background like Kilimanjaro.
In the foreground, sea-sculpted trees
yearn in companies, fog mutes the colors
delicate as painted rice-paper screens.
I am everywhere in this world.
 

[Vaughn Neeld]

Day 10 
 

Dentist
 
In 20 minutes the dentist chair
will hold me awkwardly snug
uncomfortable
out of control
trapped
under a glaring cycloptic orb
naked to peering prying eyes
peering prying hands

equipped with mirror and weapons
intrusive
choking
crammed nearly down my throat
mercilessly scraping
grinding
polishing
reflected reverse images 

Biannual cleaning
for that requisite Ipana smile 

I will have pearly whites
where ivory remains 

I'd rather shovel snow  

--------------

Aime, just went through this myself. It equates to the Midieval. Von

Marcel, I'm with you on not being able to figure out how to attach comments to a particular poem.

Tracy, HELP.