NaPoWriMo – Day Twenty-nine

I listened to Billy Collins talking and reading tonight. And then I listened to a whole lot of people reading a whole lotta poems in celebration of National Poetry Month – an event put on by the Academy of American Poets.

Even the NYTimes and NPR have been talking this month about how poetry has been especially important in the past year.

Well, we already knew that, but now it’s time for a little sleep on this penultimate night of Poetry Month.

I listened to so many words
my ears were swimming in the
familiar currents and
the unexpected rip tides
the waves leapt up
I fell into the trough
and rose again triumphant
from the brimming sea.

Billy Collins recently had cataract surgery and is still amazed to find that he can read without glasses. I wrote a quick haiku during the broadcast based on what he mentioned as “a bowl of glasses” needing a new purpose.

a bowl of glasses
gathered, reminiscing
after surgery

The poet tonight paused
to consider the habit
of wearing glasses

A side benefit
of cataract correction
a new view on life.

I asked the cats to pose like poets for their book jackets and this:

NaPoWriMo – Day Twenty-nine

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-eight

Mom texts me to say
she’s resting after gardening.
she’s been out since eight
turning soil
filling and emptying
the rusty old wheelbarrow
scarfing around plants
she put in early this year.
Now resting happily.
I put my feet into my sandals
taking my first sip of coffee.

Trying to keep up
with mom on the day to day
at times, exhausting

Later in the day Fedex delivered my new Dutch Oven – now cooking can be like weight-lifting!

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-eight

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Seven

To make up for yesterday’s late post, how about a super early one today? And triggered by the prompt given by NaPoWriMo! Woot! What’s not to like about a sorrow thusly:

The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

ringlorn

adj. the wish that the modern world felt as epic as the one depicted in old stories and folktales—a place of tragedy and transcendence, of oaths and omens and fates, where everyday life felt like a quest for glory, a mythic bond with an ancient past, or a battle for survival against a clear enemy, rather than an open-ended parlor game where all the rules are made up and the points don’t matter.

Well, it had to happen like this (even if in extended-haiku form):

Where are my dragons?
Where is my brooding chieftain?
Where my ancient song?
Is this journeying
the map of forever times
before the namings?
Before the hours known
when time arched but endlessly
when days were but one
let me quench my thirst
for the momentary joys
and peace of nightfall
let me drink in lust
like the rage of long battle
let me smooth your brow
in the stillest night
you won’t hear my quiet prayer
for your safe keeping
but know that I pray
and watch for you on the road
holding tight that joy
The night full of prayer
The raging of dragons long
The happiness of return

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Seven

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Six

Late but it’s still Day Twenty-six on the left coast. Mom and I went out today – to the art supply store and to an office supply store. `I got the few things I “needed” but there might have been more want going on than actual need. And we came home exhausted from the novelty of being out. It’s not the first time we’ve been out but it’s the first we felt no need to rush in and out I guess. We shopped.

In a moment of sheer
I’m not even sure what
desperation? need?
Whatever. I bought
a box of pencils.
Limited edition,
high end, legendary
pencils. A dozen of them.
And three tiny notebooks.
The kind that just fit in
my current pockets.
I don’t carry pencils there
but a fountain pen. Or two.
And with these things I try
to capture the words that
flit past my brain.
But the pencils – those were
just a want. I plopped them
on the counter with the packet
of waiting notebooks, heavy
with anticipation.
Over time pencils will shorten
the erasers rounding
the pages fuzzing and curling
but today we are all shining
and ready for the universe.

And yes I came home with a box of the March 2021 Limited Edition BlackWings, the tribute to Woodie Guthrie. Take that you right wing wackadoodles – I’m a folk-singing-lefty.

Anticipation
Words stored inside a pencil.
waiting to escape.

Sometimes weird things happen when juggling or pulling things out of one’s pocket etc:

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Six

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Five

Short and sweet and to the point.

sunday modern times
the ubiquitous sound of
world wide weed-whacking.

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Five

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Four

I know that today my cats were secretly or not so secretly criticizing my use of the computer, but sometimes…

There is no cat
that cannot be
impossible to hold
a single sharp claw
a need to lick
a compulsion to spread
up the chest so that
tail operates keyboard
You may demonstrate
the ease and propriety
of many positions
but none of them
will be found pleasing
a leg sticks out and
any bump provokes.
a chin rests on an arm
whose hand moves too much.
repositioning results
in abandonment.

cat begs for lap space.
repositioning results
in abandonment.

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Four

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-three

The sun is glinting in my eyes
while I do the dishes.
The water is warm,
The light pleasant at end of day
I can almost imagine being
in a rowboat, after dinner
distant frogs, more distant children
playing ball somewhere, or tag.
from up the lake comes taps
a signal to put away the day
but the sun has already slipped
behind the nearest hill.
A few rings around my bobber, no more.
A few fireflies dot the shore.
The lake taps against the boat
swallows are becoming bats
This is the quiet of the day.
Even the small motor is diminished
when we turn, all tuned
to darkness, towards home

quietly changing
to evening all things stilling
each moment ringing

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-three

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-two

Painting while the car shakes

I knew it wasn’t warm and sunny
when I headed out to paint
But it was sunny at least
and there were clouds flying
I thought I’d check on the
great blue heron’s nest and paint
while watching them stacking what
look like twigs but are much bigger
Passed two turkeys on the way
just hanging out in someone’s yard,
two ne’er-do-wells up to something.
Pulled into the lot just one other car.
The nest was tall with new sticks
bright in the binoculars while
a maple and I huddled against the gusts.
I got back in the car, a safe studio
to set up paper and paint and brushes,
laughing above the whistling, while
the wind rearranged my composition
over and over, bumping my elbow
like I wouldn’t notice at all.

Who can paint the wind?
April’s clouds flying away
beautiful kites.

And tonight’s helper, Harry.

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-two

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-One

Here’s my help tonight with this NaPoWriMo post. I think Ginny appreciates that three weeks into the month some support is welcome.

the supportive cat
looks up briefly just to say
you should be writing.

Sitting at my desk this afternoon, I wondered what the sudden noise was outside. Oh nothing – just life at the edge of New England.

Just as the door was almost closing
almost closing on April,
this afternoon it blew open
and winter ran back in like a crazy
toddler who has had not enough nap
and too much chocolate and
who looks both determined and
without semblance of reason.
The daffodils fell down exhausted.
White hills pale neon yellow
and pink and shivering at dusk
and the only correct response is
crazy weather isn’t it? again?

sudden afternoon
noise in late april shouting
of crazy snow squall

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-One

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty

Now you might ask, but MB – I didn’t see Day Nineteen?

And you would be right. Every month-o-poems, there’s a chance that a poem might be just a little too personal, a little too pointed , a little too specific. While I might think the words themselves are good, bad or indifferent, I choose not to put the poems out there in public. So yes, there was a poem, safe in the files, but just not here.

Today was quite the day wasn’t it? I just had to think about who might be out there not waiting anxiously for this verdict. I’m sure there must be some out there who have hardened their thoughts against the idea of change. For them I send up a universal prayer to allow them relief.

In the hour so so we waited
weren’t we holding our breaths?
I wondered about those who
weren’t hoping for justice
weren’t praying for the right answer
to this terrible question.
For those I send up a prayer
because if it had gone the other way
we would have kept on fighting
for rights, for equality,
for everyone, and I hope
they feel as relieved as
we do with the verdict
even if they can’t say it aloud.

the tension released
announcing justice today
I feel hope rising

I went to the post office but they were closed for lunch so I went for a little ride and discovered the Beaver Cotton Mill Overlook in downtown Valatie. The mill was founded in 1820 and was destroyed by fire in the blizzard of 1888.

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty