Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Flame Darkness Wish for 3WW

Because I'm on vacation, I was able to check the three words nice and early. Unfortunately, what I saw was Thom's rough draft before he up and changed the words for his final draft! Too funny!
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Ricky’s Wish

Gary painted flames
on the gas tank
of Rick’s motorcycle

one fiery stroke
after another,
his hands gently

holding the brush
and the belly
of the bike

creating heat
in the darkness
of his brother’s

death. Soon
he’ll put the ashes
in the empty

right gas tank
and take Ricky
for one more ride

Monday, December 29, 2008

Stardust for One single Impression

He promised her the moon

All she wanted was a home

He promised to take care of her

She sighed as she headed to work

He said she was his everything

She picked up his dirty socks

He apologized for cheating on her

She kicked him out

He begged to be taken back

She wiped the stardust from her eyes.

The Monday Poetry Train: Never and Always

I wrote this a couple years ago for one of my students who was dying of cancer. Unfortunately, Jacqui slipped into a coma before getting to read it and died a few days later. I gave it to her parents.
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Never and Always

You could concentrate
on all the nevers,
like you’ll never get married,
have children,
get wrinkles,
go to Europe,
own a home.

You could think about
those things, those nevers
but they are sponges
soaking up time.

The vase of your life
is almost out of water
so while you’re still
blooming
think about always.

How you’ll always be young
in your parents’ eyes:
soft pussywillows
that last forever.

You’ll always be the person
who taught me courage;
I am humbled by your bravery.
I’d like to let my hair go gray
but worry about what
the kids would say,
then I think of you,
statuesque in your baldness.

You’ll always be the person
who pops into my mind
when I think of conscientious
students.
Even when you had to have
an operation, you got all
your assignments completed.
I compare you to another kid
in our class who didn’t
even have an excuse
for never doing his work.

Always is the moon
rising fat and yellow
month after month.

Always is you,
someone to count on
to rise to the occasion.

Some people in eighty years
don’t have as much effect
on others
as you have had on me.

Thank you for being always.

Friday, December 26, 2008

I Believe...for Sunday Scribblings

I believe in the magic
that curls into our house

whenever Kylie comes to visit.
I believe in the power

of “Amazing Grace”
to make me cry;

whenever I hear it,
I think of my dad’s funeral.

I believe in the laughter
bubbling in our home

on Christmas day.
I believe that teenagers

will take over
and it will be a better world.

I believe in Buffalo wings
to erase problems

and the chemistry
of a simple kiss goodbye

in the morning
and another one

later in the melting day.
I believe in words

that float in the airwaves,
recline on clean white paper,

or knit themselves
into the poetry of our lives.

I believe in the sky of his eyes;
he believes in the earth of mine.

Opposites for TOP

I Wanted

I wanted to have steak for supper
but you wanted breakfast
so we had bacon and eggs.

I wanted to watch Wheel of Fortune
but you wanted Law and Orderso we turned to TNT.

I wanted to go north to the bookstore
but you wanted to get back to camp
so we went south on Route 1.

I wanted to swim
but you dragged me down
and I drowned.

Thursday, December 25, 2008

Ancestry for ReadWritePoem


My maternal grandmother was always a very stern woman and I love this picture of her smiling with my mom.
My grandfather, Pepere, was such a handsome man. I feel like I never really knew these grandparents because they spoke mostly French and I didn't.
Last spring there was a "Looking Back at Local History" article in the local newspaper about how my grandfather had once been in an accident and how he helped save several people. I wrote the following poem about it.
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Pepere


I never knew

my grandfather

was a hero.

I remember him

as just being there

smiling at me

like a photograph

caught in the gauze

of my memory.

I never thought

of him as a man

going to work,

playing with his kids,

telling a joke,

listening to music.

What foods did he like?

What made him laugh?

What were his dreams?

The picture I have

of him is one-dimentional,

flat, gray.

I don't know

what color shirt

he was wearing

when his car

went into the water.

I can't see the weather.

Did he scream

as he helped the women

out of the water?

Did they hug him

in thanks? Pepere,

who were

you?

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Faith, Miracle, Whisper for 3WW

Faith Hill
on a CD.
Music’s a miracle,
a lover at my ear with sweet
whispers.

Monday, December 22, 2008

Poetry Train: The Lounge

The Lounge

I’d like to sit in the smoky gray
with my inhibitions
swirling up up
gathering in clouds
on the ceiling.

I’d like to step
out of my self,
leave my skin
in a wrinkled pile,
kick it out of the way.

I’d like to sit naked,
a heart beating
to the rhythm of a poem,
a soul thrumming
to piano notes
that weep.

Saturday, December 20, 2008

Late for Sunday Scribblings

Too Late

I’m poemed out.
It’s late in the school
day and I used
all my words already
in earlier classes.

They were bunched
up like cattle waiting
to be let out into a field
after a long, cold winter.
And when I picked up
my pencil, the gate
swung open
and they gamboled
down my arm,
and stretched
out on the clean
pasture of my paper

leaving me empty.
I close and lock
the fence, put my
notebook away,
and smile wryly
at these stragglers.

Friday, December 19, 2008

First for TOP

I wrote at least three "first" poems this week and they were all terrible. So...

I wrote this over three years ago just after our first glimpse of Kylie. We thought for sure she was going to be a boy. The ultrasound was a twenty-minute video. (Gary is my husband.)
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Ultrasound: 23 weeks

This hand-sized little man
resting in his La-Z-Boy womb

just passing the time playing
with his umbilical cord.

He crosses his feet,
stretches out
…yawns…
examines his toes,
scratches his cheek

a miniature Gary
fiddling impatiently
practicing for when he’ll have
a remote in his hand.

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Jealous, Hesitate, Neglect for 3WW

Jealous of my books,
you think I neglect you~
a hesitant kiss.

Monday, December 15, 2008

What I'm Longing For for Poetry Train


It isn't even winter yet but I'm sick of it already!
In 1991-92 we spent the winter in Hawaii and I'm "home"sick for it.
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I long for the house
we rented on Papailoa Drive
in Haleiwa, Hawaii
one winter.

I long for the front
windows full
of ocean like
television screens.

I long for the layers
of lacy waves
splashing on my
legs as I walked.

I long for a winter
with no responsibilities,
just one day of heaven
after another.

I long for one more
chance to appreciate
the miracle of
living by the sea.

Sunday, December 14, 2008

I Knew Instantly...for Sunday Scribblings

Nothing
Nada
I have no women’s intuition
My first impressions are always wrong

I don’t
trust myself
Ideas have to percolate for awhile
When I go Christmas shopping

I never
buy anything
on that first trip and I hate it
I’ve never known anything instantly.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Vague-Shatter-Enemy for 3WW

Every Thursday when I do journal writing with my students, I put the previous day's three words from 3WW on the board and that is one of the prompts they can choose to write about.

When we are done writing, I normally read mine out loud to them.

Today when my seniors came in, they were all in a twitter about some gossip having to do with sex. So, when I started writing, that was on my mind.

The following is what I wrote with no tweaking. I haven't been feeling especially creative this week so it's all I've got.
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Sex is not the enemy
your parents think it is.

Just shatter all those old ideas
they’ve been feeding you.

(Okay, there is no way
I’m going to read this out loud!)

Sex is a healthy part of life
when both people are ready for it.

It shouldn’t lurk in shadows,
a vague shape.

It’s sunshine after rain,
summer after winter.

(And, now, I’m really
getting trite!)

Persona Poem for TOP

Feeling pretty dull this week. Too much going on with Christmas, etc. Came up with this, though, during my planning block today when I was sitting in front of my computer.
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My Name Is Dell; I Am Your Slave

I hum
all day
a tuneless hymn

I eat
your words
devour them

I keep
morsels
of your living

I trans-
port you
to other lands

I purr
a soft
contented song

I wait
for you
I wait for you

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Unsavory for TOP

That Inconvenience

Roses
bloomed
in my stomach;

thorns
pierced
my uterus.

The red carpet
rolled out
for the stars

of my
agony. Two
children:

our oak tree, Nathan,
and his sister,
Erin, our Tuts,

I smiled
as I reached
into the tampon box.
Linda's Poems