Monday, April 30, 2012

Day 30 Fade away

Friendships

You don’t notice at first.
Lunches at the local restaurants
Walks in the park
Games around the kitchen table
become infrequent.
Then time stretches between phone calls.
Next thing you know you’re down to
the like button on Facebook posts.
Friendships are like favorite jeans,
once worn almost daily,
until they become faded, torn,
or stop fitting altogether—
to be put in the bottom drawer
with all the skinny jeans
with a wistful, someday…

Sunday, April 29, 2012

Day 29 PAD Use line from previous PAD challenge poem

Love Un-derails



Love “un-derails”—gets you back on track.
When you get off-course, love finds the way back
When the ways before you are broad and many
And you need direction but don’t have any
Love makes up for the lack



When your course seems dark and black
Love lights the way, and that’s a fact
Shining like a copper penny
Love un-derails.



The engine of love pulls with a click-e-ty clack
With kindness pouring out the stack
The cars filled with respect aplenty
Grace and mercy four and twenty
Engineering with know-how and knack

Love un-derails

Saturday, April 28, 2012

Day 28 problems


Problems

can be boulders that crush

or stepping stones through

turbulent waters toward

progress and success

depending on one’s attitude,

and ability to pursue solutions.

Friday, April 27, 2012

Prompt 27 The trouble is

But, the Trouble Is



I have the time

I have the money

I have the health

I have the energy

I have the friends

I have the family

I have the place

I have the history

I have the God

I have the love

I have the reason

But, the trouble is

I don’t have the want to.

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Day 26

Jogging Cowpanions

Most people when they go for a jog

Take a long their faithful dog

Or perhaps a kitten with its prance

Or even a monkey doing a dance.

But I’m a country kid and when I run

On a winding road beneath the sun

I jog along the barbed wire fence

And waiting for me in full suspense

All ready for their morning meal

They rush at me with bulky zeal

A heard of cows mistaking me

For the farmer coming to feed.

And so they follow me till fence’s end

And when I return they run again.

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Day 25 Sport


Sport

S wiftly racing ‘round the bases
P ounding feet as he faces
O pen glove like yawning mouth
R unning fast, toward the south
T urning sharply, heading home, now the slide, he sure did sho’em

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Day 24 Love/Hate


                              Love

                  Selfless, passionate

            Giving, pursuing, surging

Affection, attraction, apathy, animosity

        Abhorring, detesting, repelling

                  Driven, destructive

                              Hate


Day 23 Morning


Morning Blessing



M ay the sun shine brightly in your soul. May the

O thers in your life be well and whole. May you

R each the greatest height and get good sleep at

N ight. May you reach every dream and every goal. May your

I clinations be pure and true. May your

N eeds be met and problems few. May your days be very

G ood and may you do the things you should. May you



B e happy as you start this day anew. May your

L ove be like a warm spring rain. May you be

E nergetic and free of pain. May you

S hare and be blessed and get your needed rest. May you

S imply feel joy with no restrain. May your day be

I nteresting and sweet. May nobody step upon your feet. May you

N ot be down and grumpy. May your ways be smooth not bumpy. May

G od bless you and I repeat. May the sun shine brightly in your soul…

Day 22 Judgment


Judgment



You can spend a whole life learning to appreciate

the positives and overlook the negatives

of self and others. Like, a train chugging

down the wrong track, critical evaluation

of a person’s motives and value builds

up speed and  is hard to stop. A commitment

to love, in spite of it all, un-derails.






Day 21 Under the Microscope


Under the Microscope



The jeweler showed us

(his prospective customers)

how the cut of the diamond

effected the price.



The finer the cut,

the clearer the diamond,

and the more expensive.

A tiny diamond could be

far more costly

than a big flashy one.



For years, I questioned myself,

about my impulsive decision

when I pointed to the smallest

well-cut one as the one I wanted,

and my fiancé, eager to please,

didn’t question me.



Looking back, I think

I subconsciously chose

to not value appearance so much,

but  something inward,

pure, valuable, unpretentious

like I wanted our relationship,

 a  true gem, love being the fine cut.






Friday, April 20, 2012

Day 20 Let's Blank

Let’s Cancel Today Due to Lack of Interest

Due to lack of interest,

let’s go by

thirty items on to-do list

Forgo all appointments

Ignore calls

Pass over piles of paperwork.



Forget about housework

Trash emails.

Let’s not, and say we met deadlines.

Abandon ticking clocks—

let them tick.

Blow off responsibilities.



Today, let’s free ourselves

and cast off

chains of confining decisions.

 Let’s go straight back to bed.

Nix today

Let’s begin anew tomorrow.






Thursday, April 19, 2012

Day 19 Life Event

Daughter’s Birth



Sixteen below in Craig, Colorado,

three days after Christmas,

you made your entrance

and your dad and doctor

almost missed it.

One night in the hospital,

I stared into your deep, shiny eyes

and I knew we’d be friends.

We brought you home in a Christmas stocking.





Son’s Birth



Eight days past your due date,

three days after Easter,

we scheduled the task at midnight.

It was like a knitting needle.

One poke and you came in a hurry.

You’ve been that way ever since—

hard to start and hard to stop.

It’s time for another poke,

to be birthed into the world.

Day 18 regional food

Sopapilla



All puffed up

Empty in middle

Can’t take searing hot oil

Light weight and flaky

Needs honey

Day 17 Fantasy

Stories

I

Mary Anne’s first day volunteering

at the Castleberry nursing home,

she met Katherine in room 107.

Katherine said she liked it there

because they kept a horse.



It seemed unlikely to Marry Anne

but, she thought, maybe it was so.

“The chef in the kitchen feeds him.”

Hmm, Mary Anne thought.

“He has a stall for him in the kitchen.”



What could Katherine mean by that?

“He’s been there a hundred years.”

Well, okay then. Mary Anne patted

the old woman’s hand and came back

weekly to hear her stories.



II

Prince Xavier of Hollingsworth

wanted nothing else but to marry

Lady Margaret Anita. However,

she was promised to the Duke

of Abington, a cruel wizard.



Xavier plotted night after night

on how to rescue the lovely lady.

The night before the wedding,

he coerced the chef to let him in.

He proposed elopement to Margaret.



Unfortunately, the Duke caught them,

cast a spell on Xavier, the chef and Margaret.

to live forever: Xavier as a horse,

the chef to care for him, and Margaret,

now Mary Anne, whose memory was erased.



III

Xavier whinnied as he saw Mary Anne

out the window of his stall by the kitchen.

But the only one who knew about him

was the mute chef and Katherine in 107

and no one believed her stories.


Day 16 PAD mixed up, Poetic Bloomings Senses

It Makes No Sense to My Senses

Eighty degrees in Phoenix,
the desert landscape
decorated with pinks, yellows, purples
of queen’s wreath and bougainvillea,
their light fragrance stifled by traffic fumes.
Then up the hill through
fields of tall, thick saguaro
lifting their three to five or so arms
in salutation. And then
flashing signs on Arizona high country
warning motorists of winter weather.
Switching off the AC, careful on the black ice,
but my eyes lingering as long as possible
on snowy cover, tall pines with bright blue backdrop.
Then popping out on lower ground,
reddish orange earth
contrasting pale heavens
with whip cream clouds hovering low.
Stopped in Kayenta to gas up
where the wind nearly blew my jacket off.
Then on to other worldly rock formations
gray monoliths, red, then sandy mesas.
Then back to where the mountains
meet the desert in Southwest Colorado,
the sky uncharacteristically gray,
with the smell of rain in the air.
This morning, I restart my life
where sunshine from the east
and clouds in the west
seem to dare each other.

Day 15 Wordle: slash, strap, mask, button, balloon

By Faith



The problems of life pierce your soul

Your enemies slash with vile hate

You can submit to God’s control

Relying on His love by faith



It’s easy to step in a trap

And swallow a hook with the bait

So throw off temptation’s tight strap

Relying on His love by faith



Religion relies on a task

Pretending that things are okay

So take off the smile and the mask

Relying on His love by faith



Some folks try to button down truth

And this becomes their sad mistake

Instead of trusting in His proof

Relying on His love by faith



The Lord sings a beckoning tune

He offers forgiveness and grace

Hope floats like a hot-air balloon

Relying on His love by faith

Saturday, April 14, 2012

Day 14 Dooms Day

Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?



You know what they say

about crying wolf.

Eighty-eight reasons in 88.

Everything digital

going kerflooey in Y2K.

The Mayan’s 2012.

Ha ha ha!

And then one day

the sky splits.

Day 13 PAD Bad Luck

Is it just bad luck?

Or a weird roundabout way

God answers prayers

Thursday, April 12, 2012

PAD Day 12 Something Blank

Something or Other

I’m getting up at five A. M.
Some say that I’m ailing.

A Saturday morning fever

Yep, it’s called yardsaling.



A whatchamacallit or two

For ninety seven cents.

Thirteen widgets for a dollar

A thingy for the fence.



And just what I always wanted--

A hickamajigger!

And what a cute thingamabob!

Here’s one a size bigger.



I will use this thingamajig

And this doodad I’m sure.

I have a doohickey at home

But I can use one more.



This gadget looks interesting.

These gismos are unique.

I’ve no idea what they are

But they must be antique.



And here is something or other,

A stuffed beluga whale.

So I will have to sell some stuff

And have my own yard sale.

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

PAD #11 Season

Last Hunting Season 

“I saw a deer up in the woods.
Some one shot it.
They must have lost it.”
“Yeah?” I said,
not sure if I should believe it.
In the afternoon, he said,
“I saw a deer up in the woods.
Someone shot it, must have lost it.”
“Yeah,” I said,
not sure what to do about it,
even if it was true.
In the evening Dad said it again.
For him to remember something
three times in the row,
there must be something to it.
So for the first time in my life
I donned a bright orange vest
and walked up in the woods
with him to see about this deer
someone lost track of.
Half the time he couldn’t
remember what season
it was, and he’d often ask
what was legal to shoot.
Surprisingly he walked right to it.
This was a man that carried a rifle
from the time he was nine years old,
had gotten over fifty deer
and couldn’t remember
the names of his five daughters.
He still knew the woods.
He tagged the deer,
pleased he’d gotten one for the season,
his wife and daughters relieved
he’d stay out of the woods.
The meat was bad.
We never told him.
It was his last hunting season.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

PAD Day 10 tree

Muse in Trouble 

If I can’t write about a tree
my muse must be in trouble.
So to my poetic rescue troops,
come running on the double.

My muse might be drowning
in the busyness of the day.
Or perhaps bogged down in quicksand
of vacationing away.

Maybe buried in the desert
so no one can hear its shout.
Or swinging from a noose
on the tree I’m to write about.

So while I’m basking in the sunshine,
my muse calls 9-1-1.
But someone else can rescue it
while I’m having a little fun.

Monday, April 9, 2012

PAD Day 9 Shade

Shade

Growing up in Pennsylvania
shade trees were a big part of my life.
We hid in, climbed up, cooled off
under oaks, maples and weeping willows.
As teens we washed cars, had picnics and smooched
under generous leafy trees.
Out west I notice
play grounds in the sun,
houses with little greenery,
picnics held in open clearings,
where I’ll take my chair over near a big cottonwood
and usually meet someone from east of the Mississippi.

Poetic Bloomings Prompt Come Back

Come Back 

C ome back. I know you have to go your
O wn way. Come back, though I know you’re not here to stay.
M ay you find all you’re looking for,
E verything you want and so much more.
B ut come back and visit for awhile.
A nd share some moments and a smile.
C ome back so I won’t be so blue. I’ll
K eep you in my prayers until you do.

Sunday, April 8, 2012

PAD Challenge Day 8

Rejected Cornerstone

When Jesus was born,
Herod searched the land
to prevent Him from being king.

Christ’s countryman thought
He was too common
to be anyone special.

The religious leaders condemned
Him for making Himself
equal with God.

The people who once
honored him as king
yelled, “Crucify Him!”

Many now reject Him saying
He’s too narrow in His thinking,
when He claimed,

“I’m the way, the truth and the life.
No one comes to the Father
except through Me.”

Even the tomb rejected Him
since, as the “resurrection and the life,”
He didn’t have the right qualifications.

Saturday, April 7, 2012

Morning Motel Dance

In the breakfast nook,
row of waffles, muffins,
hard boiled eggs, yogurt,
juices, coffees, teas on
one side, big pole
in the middle,
six sets of table crowded
against the other wall.
Several Hispanic kids
wearing baseball jerseys
and speaking Spanish,
old man with white whiskers,
a middle age couple,
a tall bespectacled kid and his father.

I give a little bow to the dad
as he goes ahead of me
in the juice line,
waltz around the
baseball players
to get my tea,
shuffle around the pole
back to my table,
do-si-do
over to the bagels
with the old man,
while side stepping
the blond
to nab some yogurt
as she searches
for an employee
to fill the waffle mix.
Back at my table
I munch while
the dance continues
around me.




Friday, April 6, 2012

Laurie Kolp Poetry

http://lkharris-kolp.blogspot.com/p/my-river-of-stones.html

My poetic friend Laurie posted a great poem about her son a couple of days ago. Cool form. Maybe I'll try it in the next couple of days.

It will be interesting trying to keep up with the poem a day challenge and the platform challenge while vacationing with my daughter and son in Phoenix.

Anyone reading this, please pray for safe travels!

Thanks!

Poetic Asides Prompt Hidden

Hidden



Who he is

is hidden

by his autism.

Oh, but he does

come out

in the blink of his eyes,

to say, “I’m listening,”

in his awkward hugs

and clicky kisses,

his, “mum mum,”

“yep yep,”

and, “ca-ca-ca-cookie.”

And am I going crazy

or was that a sentence?

Thursday, April 5, 2012

PA Prompt Five From the past

Fragile


In 1622
Jamestown Massacre
Samuel Maycock and his wife
hid their infant daughter Sarah.
She survived.

In 1779
Martha Reed, her brother and friends
were on their way to pick berries.
Her brother shot, her friend tomahawked,
she outran her pursuer. *

 During WWII
James Shannon
was wounded
in the head by shrapnel.
He lived.

All my ancestors.
It’s funny to think
about how many times
one nearly never
existed.

* So far my geneoligist sister can't prove that Martha Reed Shannon was our ancestor but we grew up with this story as if it were our own, so I included it.

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Poetic Asides Prompt 100% something

100 % Love


God gets blamed for a lot of things:
storms, sickness, misfortune.
Yes, He is sovereign
and hard to understand at times.
But one thing I know
and I’m entirely trusting in
is that He is
Good
Pure
and Loving.
In fact, He IS love.

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

PA Prompt apology

Like Eeyore

I’m sorry I get in the way.
I’m sorry I do things wrong.
I’m sorry for social faux pas.
I’m so sorry for this, that  
and the other thing,
I have become invisible.
Please, don’t sit on me.
I have the same right
to take up space
and breathe air as you do.
I’m sorry for being sorry.

Monday, April 2, 2012

PAD Challenge Visitor

You Never Know
(Hebrews 13:2)

 Be kind to strangers,
the Bible says,
because you never know
the person who you snub,
frown at, hurry them along
may, when the door’s closed,
turn invisible, sprout wings
and ascend to heaven.

Sunday, April 1, 2012

Poetic Bloomings prompt If I Had a Super Cape

If I Had a Super Cape

Hey, if I had a super cape
Like a bird, I’d be free
I’d sail away to Mozambique
And I’d be home by tea 

I’d stomp grand grapes in Sicily
I’d see the Louvre in France
I’d twirl with whirling dervishes
And with “where’s Matt” I’d dance

 But with a cape I couldn’t go
One moment back in time
To dine with lords and ladies fair
In castles on the Rhine

Neither could I see future worlds
Or meet strange aliens
Or skip along with Dorothy
And greet her three odd friends

I couldn’t eat cheese with Heidi
Meet Fagin and his crooks
And so forget the super cape
I’d rather have my books