NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-two

standing in a park
cold breeze mutes the noisy crowd
wishing the earth well
focussed on intent, sending
hope for the future
something we all must work for
must come with action.

Short poem today – a couple days of short nights of sleeping and an early morning tomorrow. Plenty of fresh air today too – out with others at the March for Science in Albany NY.

a bridal party
happens on demonstration
crowd becomes backdrop

Tuesday, A day of doing stuff and more stuff and paint.

Got up early this morning to deal with car stuff. When they did a recall a month or so ago, they broke my cruise control. I’ve just been busy. Anyway, Saturday, the “check engine” light came on so today was the day to deal with it. I was waiting, gritting my teeth, wondering how much this was going to cost… Did my NaPoWriMo poem, did a little comouter housekeeping.

Finally the guy comes and tells me that my car’s just about done. And that the recall part had failed, apparently causing the warning light. And that the warning light apparently made the cruise control go off. Um, no. Recall done, no cruise control, warning light, in that order. He stressed several times that they’d send the bill to FIAT. OK, I don’t mind not paying but the recall fix failed? This recall was to do with the clutch pedal… ummm.

OK, still hopefully fixed. For free (minus a few hours…) I leave thinking about what to do while I’m in that part of town. So I go to Arlene’s and buy not one but two tubes of yellow paint. One transparent, one semi-transparent.

Then I decide to bite the bullet and look for a new vacuum. The thirty year old Kenmore canister is about dead. I was willing to look at a new one but when I went to Sears it would be at least a few weeks of waiting and I’d have to pay up front. No. Sort of creeped me out.

I stopped at a long-standing local business, Lexington Vacuums, and met both the owner’s son and the owner who showed me all the ways of the Miele canister. Little more expensive but many good features. I decided I couldn’t make that decision on an empty stomach so I went and had lunch at Westgate and then I went back and bought one. The owner sat down with me and put it all together while showing me all the fine details and giving me tips. Paid and then he helped put it into my car. As I drove off I felt good about it. And then I realized that there was no big box and packaging going home with me. Just the vacuum cleaner and a box of bags for it. How cool is that? I’d even made room for a big box in the back.

Came home and of course played with it upstairs. It did great. Molly was nervous but did not become invisible so that was good. When I was all done trying out the new vacuum and yes I did play with all the attachments, I sat down to work a little more on this rather serious watercolor piece. Here’s how my messy palette looked when I was done.

I’m working on doing a rendition of my daffodils out front. Trying to keep it loose. Sketching it in with layered colors. And now, like the apocryphal story, I’m painting out everything that’s not daffofils. (I looked this up and there’s no evidence that anyone said “oh sculpting is easy you just chisel away all the parts that aren’t venus/david/an elephant” but it’s a popular saying anyway.)

Don’t worry about the light green stripes at the bottom. I needed to indicate where the lighter leaves and parts of leaves would be so I could paint in the darker bits under the flowers in the center.

NaPoWriMo Day Eighteen

A poem of necessity to start the day, we’ll see what the rest of the day brings.

Morning
waiting room blaring
with TV
morning noise
afternoon noise
evening noise
background music
occasional beats
erratic refrain
pretended mood
supposed privacy
always a background
irritant wearing,
are we so afraid
of a breath
our thoughts too loud?

NaPoWriMo, Day Twelve

Haven’t you heard the effect of peepers zooming by in the night?

I wanted to write you words tonight
driving home from work, after a movie
but I watched the world instead.
The highway rolled by, familiar,
random red dots leading me on,
behind, beads strung across
the mirror, those urging me on.
In town, a sideview glance
confirmed the green as I passed.
Why do I always look?
Then miles more of two lane but
the old car’s rumblings can’t
conceal the Doppler waves of peepers
passing in the springtide.
In the dark driveway,
April uncertainty shrugged off by
Orion, he sits on the rim of the world
pondering his journey while I
fetch the mail and go inside.

Proactive vs Reactive

When will our consciences grow so tender that we will act to prevent human misery rather than avenge it? — Eleanor Roosevelt

NaPoWriMo, Day Nine

From NaPoWriMo, today’s prompt:

“Because today is the ninth day of NaPoWriMo, I’d like to challenge you to write a nine-line poem. Although the fourteen-line sonnet is often considered the “baseline” form of verse in English, Sir Edmund Spenser wrote The Faerie Queene using a nine-line form of his own devising, and poetry in other languages (French, most particularly) has always taken advantage of nine-line forms. You can find information of various ways of organizing rhyme schemes, meters, etcetera for nine-line works here. And of course, you can always eschew such conventions entirely, and opt to be a free-verse nine-line poet”

I think it came out rather short-sonnet-like,

Burying the Cat

Dark and many-browned, he was, as
the earth I gave him back to,
the soil warm, the leaves dry
despite recent rains.
This fragile, still thing,
nothing to speak or cry over,
left only to transform, to be
something else, more again.
Tears later, for the missing.

Morning

There is nothing like looking up and seeing a bald eagle fly over, (middle-bridge Brainard) gleaming in the bright morning light. 

Later in my commute I spotted a pileated woodpecker flying over I-90 west of exit 6.