My head is beating with wishes says the great King Ginevra, they are straight out of the costume dispenser, where the clouds are made of Paris, and the day is made of swirling capes to wear on the cusp of morning, the air is peppermint basil to go with a bite of sunlight, blue mangoes and frozen kiwis he sails around in the Caribbean, filled with smiling fish, we’ll bring the fat owl who ate too many toads and now is made of ribbits. the owl smells like a knock- knock joke and sings with the rubberized cow. King Ginevra goes looking for a painted mermaid hanging in the sky, and he roams the nighttime ocean, cawing birds follow him down the drowsy hole and together they float to theEiffel Tower without a single band-aid emergency. He returns early in the morning, drinking banana tea with honey, and eating a bacon muffin too. Soon after breakfast, the great King Ginevra decides that the theme for today is jungle. and he rides the Q train all the way to the popcorn zoo or maybe to the fingernail moon, his head still beating with wishes.
April is National Poetry Month and everyone who reveres poetry celebrates in some way or another. Some people read poetry, others carry a poem in their pockets. There are readings and lots of events to promote poetry.
A few years ago National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo) came into existence with a challenge to poets to write 30 poems in 30 days during the month of April. There are prompts and lots of bells and whistles for encouragement.
I am participating for the first time this year. I decided to throw my poems into the ring so I could enter my 30 (or more) poems into a contest sponsored by a small press called Local Gems Poetry Press.
The first, second and third prizes include publication of the winner’s poems in a chapbook, with 25 to 100 copies depending on which prize it is. My plan is to submit a book of haiku, senryu, haiga, tanka and haibun. My theme is Japanese short form poetry.
There is no requirement to use the daily NaPoWriMo prompts unless one finds them useful. Perhaps I will be inspired by my daily walks, my meditation and prayer practice, NaHaiWriMo (haiku prompts), The Music in It: Adele Kenny’s Poetry Blog, and anywhere else I can find a poem!
I plan to post my poems as I write them – revising as I go along. Any comments are appreciated. Thank you for your encouragement and support.
spring workout –
taking to the woods
with the muse
girls didn’t leave home until the wedding in those days, still, Esther was bound for the city watching the darkness gather outside the window, her body relaxing as the train sped along, the droning of the wheels lulling her, she grasped the last bit of light ringing the horizon, plucking an invisible flow of memories streaming across her awareness, one by one, she made a list – a gutsy plan, not at all her usual routine. she saw it as her only way out, wondering,would her father see it her way ?
when she entered the hospital walking under the old fashioned door frame, Esther felt safe, courting bravery until it became second nature, her only wages were the tricks she gleaned and the support she sought while she learned her art, never mind failure, she threw all-night parties cramming chemistry, anatomy, physiology, biology, psychology and all those other ‘ologies into her mind
and her heart, bitten by this virus,
and smitten by a strange desire to comfort.
much later, she wrapped herself in white
and fell in with a band of Nightingales.
How is it possible that, on a morning when the clouds, curling back upon themselves, and giving up only momentary corridors of bare sky, on a morning when those maddeningly small tokens of blue taunt and tease a rain-weary, fog-weary heart, how, I ask again, is it that the sighing wind, bending toward the naked oak tree, can carry a burst of bird song through the myriad layers of a morose winter morning, piercing the frozen edges of a january nap
prodding and poking me out of my
By what miracle does a Carolina wren,
the tiniest of wintering birds,
on the gloomiest of winter days, sing in the only voice the universe gave it,
an April voice, conjuring up a stunning moment of spring, and bestowing a blessing
on the rain besotted morning, anointing my eyes and ears
with the chrism of its winter anthem, just in time to save my dispirited soul from the depths of winter silence?
I felt like writing a love poem, perhaps because I had just read Pablo Neruda’s poem entitled ‘ Love,’ from which I borrowed the words ‘because of you,’ or perhaps for some other reason! (It could be the wine)
I wrote this in three line verses, perhaps because I can’t shift out of haiku mode. Perhaps I will revisit this poem in the future and make it more like Neruda’s, or not!