NaPoWriMo - Day 19 - 22

It was dark

on the sixth

in a

cab with

Jimmy.

We was

on I-10,

'bout a mile out

and about.

Day 20 -

The one rule,

the one rule they told me not to break

was the only one that

I could no longer follow.

Might it have saved my life?

Probably, but would it have been a life worth living?

Too late to think about that now,

but at least I have the satisfaction of knowing

that is all they will be thinking about

for a long time to come.

Day 21 -

And if not a flower be,

what would you rather,

a peasant, a lamb, or tree?

Some see it as a curse, but

the flower is beauty

as beautiful as can be.

Day 22 -

The clock can not strike thirteen.

This is a haiku.

Triskaidekaphobia.

 

NaPoWriMo - Day 18

Day 18 -

Though we don't have the means,

somehow,

someday,

I will repay you.

As I come to you,

shattered,

broken,

but with new life on-board.

Will you

turn your backs

and walk away?

My fate is in your hands.

Help her to soar,

high above the

clouds.

Off into

the stars.

Inspired by the poem 'Question' by Robert Frost

A voice said, Look me in the stars

And tell me truly, men of earth,

If all the soul-and-body scars

Were not too much to pay for birth.

NaPoWriMo Day 12 - 17

Day 12 -

A quiet suburb,

small forest,

frequent visitors from various animals.

A baseball field filed with children,

small shops on main street,

the end of the block

the mighty Hudson River,

so peaceful yet strong.

Day 13 -

It takes a community

to raise a child,

but she had none.

She was forced to raise her child

all on her own.

No brothers, grandmothers, or uncles.

No sisters, grandpas, or aunts.

Alone, cold.

She worked hard.

Saved.

No government handouts.

She scrimped and saved.

No father, he walked away.

It was just her against the world

and she won.

She had to raise that child on her own.

She was a community of one.

NaPoWriMo Day 5 - 11

'S Ì Bl·th geal Na SmÈar Ì

'S Ì Bl·th geal Na SmÈar Ì
's Ì bl·th deas na s™ craobh Ì,
's Ì planda b'fhearr mÈin mhaith
le hamharc do sh™l;
's Ì mo chuisle, 's Ì mo r™n Ì,
's Ì bl·th na n-™ll gcumhra Ì,
is samhradh ins an fhuacht Ì
idir Nollaig is C·isc.

Do you see what I hear?

Do you see what I hear?

Look close, the trees,

the soft, white blanket

below them.

Nestle around,

everyone come together,

if you fall,

I will catch you.

NaPoWriMo 2018 Day 1 - 4

Day One -

If I were a bird

on this new Easter Day

I'd fly so high

up, up, and away

I'd dress to the nines

and wear my best suit

I'd partake in a feast

of berries and fruit

I'd spot the eggs

that no one could find

all the colors of a rainbow

running through my mind

NaPoWriMo Day 24 thru 30

Day 24

They said he was ferocious,

with big sharp claws,

and gnarly teeth.

He took out two

of my men

before he latched

onto my throat.

We should've known

better than to mess

with that rabbit.

Run away, run away.

Day 25

She

runs quickly

inside the house

trying to escape him,

but he catches her, again.

Day 17 - 22

Day 17

Step lightly, young deer

through the dark

a branch breaks,

you see me.

Were it light, you'd stay,

but I cannot see you,

quickly you jump,

leaping away,

leaping away.

Last spring,

were the fawn,

playful, dancing,

so close, I

could almost touch them,

but you,

keeping a close eye,

and I understand.

Teaching them

to be cautious,

to listen, to see,

to leap away.

Leap away.

Portmanteaus (Day 18)

Have you seen them?

I've'nt, have you?

I have not seen them either,

what will we do?

We could start by looking

where we saw them last,

but it will be a long journey,

they came from the past.

So why come now?

What did they say?

I've'nt a clue, and

now they've gone away.

Day 16

Dear me,

How the hell have you been?

I've been thinking about you.

Are you still looking for a new job?

What about women, anything new?

I thought you were going to start

exercising more, lose a little weight.

What about going back to school,

weren't you going to take a few classes?

Anyway, I just wanted to catch up,

we should get together soon.

I really think we should talk.

We're not getting any younger

and there is a lot that needs to be done.

Don't you agree?

Sincerely,

Me

NaPoWriMo Day 14 & 15

Clerihew (Day 14)

Oh that Lizzy Borden,

born on a July morning,

always sharpening her axe.

I wonder what she plans to do with that?

NaPoWriMo Day 11 - 13

Bop (Day 11)

So colorful,

the eggs lie

on the ground.

But how do

we get them all?

So many to be found.

Hippity-hop, bippity-bop.

Maybe if we

had a basket.

Yes, that's what

we could use.

Our problems

would be solved,

not one egg

would we lose.

NaPoWriMo - Day 10

And if he not a man

as much as he be,

would I have turned out

as well as he raised me?

Arms of steel, he worked

his fingers to the bone

We didn't have much, but we

had food, clothing, and a home.

And as I grew up,

and then moved away,

he'd come around and teach me,

even to this day.

One night tragedy struck,

he became very ill,

but he has a lot of fight,

a lot of perseverance and will.

So now we sit and talk,

and he says life's not half bad,

“I guess neither is mine,

especially since you're my Dad.”

WLM 4/10/17

NaPoWriMo week 2

Day 8

The train whistle blows,

drowning out,

as down the track it goes.

When it reaches a station,

it signals loud,

the intention to reach its destination.

With passenger or package,

the train clacks along,

clack, clack, clang.

Whether day or night,

you know when its near,

even when out of sight.

Sigh (Day 8)

Oh, this pie is delicious

After such a lovely meal

Ohh, but let's call it a night

I just want to rest, but

Ohhh, you have other plans, right?

Ohhhh, don't start, I have to get up by five

Ohhhhh, you know just how to touch me

You make me feel so alive

NaPoWriMo Week 1

Day 1 

And so it

begins,

needles and

pins.

All year

we wait,

it seems so

late.

Protecting

your heart,

the hardest

part.

It's alright

if you do,

even if you

don't.

You can,

if you want,

but surely

I won't.

Recipe for wonder (Day 2)

Take one 19 year old male,

one 17 year old female.

Sprinkle with young love,

throw in a dash of lust.

Shake well,

and an ounce of fun,

a few beers,

and the backseat of a car.

Lightening strikes,

hold tight.

Bake for nine months,

a seven pound baby girl.

But like an egg,

the relationship separates.

She says she is not yours,

you've no reason not to believe.

NaPoWriMo 2017

April is National Poetry Month. I always enjoy taking the time, each day in April, to jot down a few new poems. I will be following the prompts on http://www.napowrimo.net/ 
I am a few days behind, but I will catch up. For day 5, here is a poem about nature.

As I round the bend, I know I am almost home.

Soft pines hang along the roadside,

while rock hard mountains reach for the sky.

In the spring they are covered in green,

in the fall they wear a much more vibrant coat,

and of course during winter they shiver in white.

The bridges that stretch out along the Hudson

offer easy passageway to either side.

I've crossed them thousands of times on my journeys.

The smell of the upstate air is a bit sweeter,

not heavy like the city, nor salty like the shore.

It seems to fit in place, a warm compliment.

Whether driving, flying, or arriving by train,

the ground beneath can be giving in some spots,

hard in others, but always solid and welcoming.

The night sky is one of my favorites.

I see Orion's belt, I see my sign; Taurus,

and I imagine the battle to protect the Seven Sisters.

Maybe I don't think about it everyday,

maybe because it is too familiar, but when I stop,

I don't have to think; my senses tell me I'm home.

WLM 4/5/17

Where Have All the Ronis Gone?

Growing up as a kid, we used to enjoy a plethora of Ronis. There was Rice-A-Roni, Beefaroni, pepperoni... the list goes on and on. But where did they all go? It seems that everyone now is either a vegan, gluten-free, or just plain opposed to roni supplements added to their diets. The madness must stop.

Sure, you can search the grocery store aisles for these products, but damned if you'll find them. Perhaps, if you are lucky enough, or conniving enough, you can sneak behind the scenes. You may be able to find an old dented can, with Chef Boyardee's face on it, rolling around under a shelving unit. Maybe you can find an open box of Rice-A-Roni, that the mice have been picking at for years, back in the dark corners of a deserted warehouse.

I've invited some guests here today to speak out against this atrocity.

"Peppa, would you like to come up and say a few words?"
"My name is actually, Peppa Pig, not Peppa Roni."
"Well, your agent told me that you were looking for work. You're free to leave if you want, or you can come up here, read the cards that were given to you when you walked in the door, and collect your paycheck. Otherwise, you can leave right now and not get paid."
"Okay. Just let me get my reading glasses."
"Thank you."

"Yes, I see a hand in the back. Sir, do you have something to say?"
A gentleman in the back row stands up, "Ayyy."

"Oh, Mr. Fonzaroni, I didn't know you were going to be here."
"Whoa," he says as he sits back down.

Anyway, if you love roni, as much as I do, make a New Year's resolution that you can keep; seek out and consume roni!
And remember kids, Rice-A-Roni is the San Fransisco treat, but you don't have to be from California to enjoy it.

Please join us next week when we discuss You'll Never Find Another Pasta Like Mine; Prince Spaghetti Day VS. San Giorgio: the Great Spaghetti in a Great Spaghetti Town.