mystory

with palms turned
ever so slightly, the wind
tickles the reeds of green
envious of relatives
that garnished a queen
(herstory, the Nile)
or hailed a king
(history, Jerusalem)
today's members
clap a modern song
the palms on my street
stutter as I walk by

Day 7

last year's unturned stones
take turns unworming the warm
unearthed, untilled soil

Day 6

at your posts!
ready pens
ink think blotches
klatches of familiars

Day 5

pines warn us to stay
safe behind the window's pane
arthritic limbs know

Day 4

When I was young
I questioned being

Me

A child questioning
Do others stop
And wonder what it is to be

Themselves

I do not know
Now that I'm older

Unlike Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow
I change with the weather
Whether it is good

I do not know

Am I wish-washed
Clean
I.  Do.  Not.  Know.  But...

I ask the same questions

Day 3

dust piles
the light eternal
shading

illuminating
remnants of neglect
antiquity

below
the light's bright
conceals it

above
stairwell's balcony
reveals it

spiraling down
ruminating
the shadows

Day 2

For Patrick

one year
shy, the quarter
a century watches
your life, which came to clumsy our
knowledge, and increase it
it is a gift
your life

Day 1

April's foolish month of hopeful blooms
perfumes the skulls of winter
pursuing a perusal of impermanent perfection
color weighting when cooked by summer's heat
the beating wait of explosive fragrance
a perfusion of confusion
before death comes once again
to laugh at us all with clacking teeth

Wailing Whales

sing high in the depths
the darkness comes quickly; swim,
warn... save what you can

Inspirations: Wailing Walls

The following quote was made by Chen-ou Liu:

"Poetry is my wailing wall.
I tuck pieces of poetry in the wall every day."

My response to him was:

gently I rock; praying
the wall to take, not divide;
to answer my wails


Some of the most wonderful experiences in poetry this month has been from shared correspondence on Twitter. Renga is a form of shared poetry. I still have to learn more about it, but it alternates between two and three lines of poetry (and poet). I think this would be a fun type of poetry to explore! See more of Chen-ou's poetry on his blog: http://ericcoliu.blogspot.com/

Old house calls me,
begging for a dusting,
"Here... here... "
Hidden brilliance,
here and here.
Dusky rose velvets
clothe dead living rooms.
Here,
musky messages swirl;
upward sweeps
waken the dead.
Painful windows wink
with broken glasses;
staring
at days gone by,
here.

Swing Set

pulled toward you, I smile--
hesitation... I pull back
afraid of your push
***
fear to jump into
your arms; you may put me back
and push me away
***
Exhilaration!
Downward cast yields to upward
momentum; I sail.
 

bird song

coloraturas share beauty
tips of trees bounce back
these lyrical conversations
resurrecting trebled souls in
good measure

no base desires today; repeat.
lone oscillating
vibrato which my heart mimics
earnest wavering
fermata...

Tendrils of Tenderness

sweet seeds of my life
loved, but not always tended
as I intended

strong in spite of my
brambles; blown into litheness
fruitful, none-the-less

NaPoWriMo April 21

poems
today
are hiding
in my head
they won't come
out to play

The Reaper

Stairwell down:
My feet flow over steps
like roots in the ground,
stretching, seeking the safest path.

Creaking, groaning under
the weight of my dream:
The one where it finds me.
My throat closes still--

with the thought of its
grasp; I pull nothing away,
begging my voice to say...

"Jesus."

NaPoWriMo April 20

pool's enticement; cool,
glassy blue dare; reflecting
my need to make waves

NaPoWriMo April 19

masqueraded earth

powdered rock face for gala

wanton eruption

The Dive

water's embracement
fizzy globes jostle, vying
tactile attention

NaPoWriMo April 16

elixir of earth
last year's vintage brewed anew;
strained through newborn roots