Day 23 NaPoWriMo

Write About a Time Someone Said No-April 1, 2008
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I say no
every time I get
too lazy
to take a walk

I say no
whenever my husband
goes to bed early
but I stay up reading

I say no every time I choose
to write a poem
instead of conversing

I say no
to some one else
every time I say
yes to me.

Day 22 NaPoWriMo

Last week was school vacation and I kind of took a blogging and writing vacation, too. Oh, I checked in every day and even wrote a poem or two but I just needed a break.

As far as NaPoWriMo, I wrote way more than 30 poems this month but I didn't write every single day. On Tuesdays and Thursdays I have my kids write poems during Journal Writing and I write with them so that was 6 poems per week just for that, never mind the ones I wrote for all the blog prompts.

I wrote this one on Thursday April 17 during Block 3. The prompt was to write about a purchase.
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I have gold
in my purse.
Every time
I open it,
I can see it
glowing.

Sometimes I take
that Borders
Gift Card out
of it’s little
red envelope
and run my fingers
over its smooth
surface.

Then when I replace
it, my whole
pocketbook shines.

I’ll use it to purchase
escape,
dreams,
healing.

When I stand
at the register,
the salesperson
will have to wear
sunglasses.

Day 21 of NaPoWriMo and TOP

My Late Spring

My winter lasted forty years
and for most of that season
it was a deep freeze.

Oh, there was the usual
January thaw when we’d study
a poetry unit in elementary school

or hints of spring
when I’d teach poetry
to my students

or read poems
to my own two children.
Once, I found the coolest

book of poetry
at the library and remember
reading “The Frozen Logger”

to my logger husband.
He actually listened
and smiled afterwards.

But it took all those years
for the sap in the maple
tree of my life to start flowing

with words. My god,
my roots tingled! Poems
popped out like leaves.

Today is April 25, 2008
just one month
on the calendar

into this season
but twenty years
into my own spring

and I’ve already written
thousands of gallons
of sweet maple syrup.

Day 20 and 3WW

Picture Reflected Stop
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The faintest chartreuse
on the gray hillsides

Rust-colored baby leaves
on our neighbor’s tree

Pregnant green buds
on the lilac bush

I stop cleaning long enough
to take a mental picture

of life reflected
in these hints of color

Day 19 and ReadWritePoem

The prompt this week is to write a poem of 5-10 lines about something that brings us joy and write another poem of the same length about something that makes us mad then combine them alternating lines.

Oil and Vinegar

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Something that brings me joy

I take the curtains
out of the washing machine,
shake them, then toss them
over my shoulder

their Downy perfume
flying around the cellar.

I hang them from the clothes line
on the back porch. They kick
up their heels
and jitterbug all afternoon.

--------

Something that pisses me off


We sit in the warm April
evening on our front porch
talking quietly about our day,

listening to kids playing,
motorcycles revving,
neighbors barbecuing.

The scent of charcoal
waltzes on the breeze.

Across the street, a guy
in a wife-beater shirt,
beer in one hand,
stands against the house
and urinates.

----------

Combined

In the warm April evening
I take the curtains out of the washing machine
We sit and talk quietly on the front porch
Shake them, then toss them over my shoulder
listening to kids playing
their Downy perfume
motorcycles revving
flying around the cellar
neighbors barbecuing
I hang them from the clothesline
The scent of charcoal
on the back porch
waltzes on the breeze
They kick up their heels
Across the street, a guy in a wife-beater shirt
jitterbugging all afternoon
stands against the house and urinates.

Day 18 and Sunday Scribblings

Yes, I'm a day late again, dammit! Friends came to visit last night just as I was turning the computer on. By the time they left, I was too tired. So I wrote yesterday's poem this morning and will (hopefully!) write another one later today.
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I’m listening
to the sunrise
as it explodes
on the forehead
of the house
across the street.

I hear cymbals
of ideas,
the heartbeat
of drums
tattooing need,
saxophones
of words
screaming
to be written.

The morning
composes
a symphony
of possibilities
and I sit
in the audience
clapping.

Day 17 of NaPoWriMo and TOP

A Person
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Jon quit school
yesterday.

He came in
with a new hairdo.

He’d cut the top
of his mid-back length

waves to six inches
and made spikes.

He had to use glue
to make them stand straight.

In between, his head
was shaved.

He left the bottom long
but had it braided

into about twenty braids.
If he’d spent as much

time on his school work
he’d have been passing.