May First, 2024

It’s hard to let go of National Poetry Writing Month. Last night I was glad to watch an array of people reading a stunning array of poems to close out the month and help raise funds for poetry in the schools and other good causes. Thank you Academy of American Poets for that fine ending to April.

I sat awhile today watching the birds. I finally made a list (see at the end of this) and found I had identified by sight sixteen species of birds in just a couple hours and it was a good thing. Beautiful songs, varying behaviors, coming to the little space where I provide food and water with lots of places for them to hang out safely. I was quite honored by their presence, humbled really. There’s so much good and beauty in the world if we stop and look for it.

The still light of afternoon
shimmering with song, of
so many birds. I weep
for their colors, for knowing
their names, that they come
here to my tiny yard.
Perhaps the clatter of life grinds
but here we are and I am
second coffee to the left
a hedgerow of spent daffodils
separating me from the road
So much today is flying
even the sotto voce clouds
even as they whisper by

Below: Rose-breasted Grosbeak and Baltimore Orioles.

I saw:

  • Ruby-throated hummingbirds
  • Red-bellied woodpecker
  • Downy woodpecker
  • Blue jay
  • Black-capped chickadee
  • Tufted titmouse
  • White-breasted nuthatch
  • Gray catbird
  • American robin
  • House finch
  • White-crowned sparrow
  • Baltimore orioles
  • Red-winged blackbird
  • Common grackle
  • Northern cardinal
  • Rose-breasted grosbeak

May First, 2024

NaPoWriMo 2024 Day 27

Really? A sonnet? An American sonnet you suggest, NaPoWriMo? I had a day. So here ya go.

Woke up this morning wanting to paint
Wanting to use the vacuum cleaner
Not wanting to think it had been awhile
Made breakfast to let me feel normal
Sat down and painted a landscape
some clouds, some blue sky, some hills
why so pastel hills, I wonder
why is my palette so messy? so of course
I spent time cleaning all the corners
dug out two blues and spread fresh paint
Noting that a couple tubes were almost spent
Of course I went to the art store and
then the grocery store, just to feel normal.

From the Quote Box:

When you get into a tight place and everything goes against you, till it seems as though you could not hang on a minute longer, never give up then, for that is just the place and time that the tide will turn. — Harriet Beecher Stowe

NaPoWriMo 2024 Day 27

Day 16 NaPoWriMo 2022

The NaPoWriMo prompt suggested we “write a curtal sonnet. This is a variation on the classic 14-line sonnet. The curtal sonnet form was developed by Gerard Manley Hopkins, and he used it for what is probably his most famous poem, “Pied Beauty.” A curtal sonnet has eleven lines, instead of the usual fourteen, and the last line is shorter than the ten that precede it.”

Now, I have written quite a number of sonnets, but lately it’s haiku that captures the day for me. Sometimes I’ll take some scrap of stalled poem and squeeze out what it’s about into haiku because it leaves out all the fluff and nonsense.

Having said all that, tomorrow is National Haiku Day, April seventeenth of course, and I was already thinking about how to spend tomorrow doing extra haiku in amongst all the other stuff that’s come together on a Sunday in April. I had already started some haiku on the topic of haiku day when I read the prompt and wondered if that could work. So here it is, my apologies to Gerard Manley Hopkins and anyone else.

April seventeenth, two thousand and twenty-two
Easter, Pesach, Ramadan and it’s haiku day!
yearly haiku day, just seventeen syllables
seventeen is all, perhaps hard to start
but once you’ve written the first, they get easier
soon everything comes unfurling in seventeens.

Five seven and five. less traditional?
an American sentence modern seventeen
whatever you see or hear or do, Haiku Day,
distilling the world, capturing just the essence
open your ears – write!

and finally an example of why you don’t weed gardens until plants are recognizable. First spread of the several years old patch of virginia bluebells

Day 16 NaPoWriMo 2022

Day 9 NaPoWriMo 2022

A quick grocery shop, some laundry, some dinner and then…

Earlier today, the front window
was full of rain and yet I said
‘the sun is out!’
and we ran into the back yard
also full of rain
silvery with afternoon sun and rain
and there we stood looking —
a rainbow, a double rainbow
arcing above everything
below that was lit with that
light that can only promise
what has been promised
a reminder that all is beauty.
We sent out the obligatory photos.

rainbow, double rainbow

very bright rainbow

Rainbow changing

Day 9 NaPoWriMo 2022

The Eve of April

My tradition is to write an eve of April poem so here it goes. Maureen over at NaPoWriMo headquarters suggested a play on Emily Dickinson so that was a nice launching prompt. So without further ado:

hope it’s a forever thing
that sprouts from sidewalk cracks
tougher than old macadam
it’s bird song that turns my head
so I notice the load of luck
left on my luckless shoulder.
at times hope springs from nothing
others she rides with death
a silent companion in grief
who turns our attention to
small gladnesses of spring
and deep quietude of night
hope takes our hand and whispers
see tomorrow? be strong enough.

The Eve of April

(August) Poetry Postcard Festival 2020

So many months at home. So many postcards. So many poems going out in the mailbox and quite a number coming into my mailbox too! Here’s the two groups of cards (two “groups” or “months” worth) that I have received to date.

I started the festival early this year, in April. I had misgivings because April is not August but it is Poetry Month and I had committed to writing a poem every day as I usually do in April for NaPoWriMo. I laid this down as my caveat for starting early, because I post those publicly each day. But I figured, the recipients of these cards may not be expecting a card in April and well, no one really looks at my blog. I figured it would all be good.

So I started writing. I’d been home since March 4, the first couple weeks of that with some illness. In April there wasn’t much to do except online work “stuff” and sitting outside to paint and watch the world. I started carrying a pocket sized notebook and actually writing down phrases or ideas that came to me although normally I compose on the computer. I have often jotted a digital note or done a voice recording of an idea on my phone but there was something nice about scribbling down an idea. I quickly realized that the process was much better if I at least tried to be legible in my scribbling.

In the past I have written in a form or with a theme for NaPoWriMo or Poetry Postcards. This year I had no set ideas along those lines. What developed really surprised me. My poems developed a trend of being double sonnets. Like, I could not fit a great number of these daily poems onto the back of a postcard at all. I started using blank postcards, perhaps with a little watercolor swirling on the front, and putting the start of the poem on the front and continuing it on the back. For someone who tends to sonnet length and haiku, this was amazing. One was even three sonnet-lengths long, two being all 5 syllable lines and one being all 7 syllable lines! Where the heck do these things come from?

Now, we are encouraged in Poetry Postcard Fest to write “spontaneously” on each card – to write that day’s poem directly on the card. I confess, I have never done this. I write directly into BBEdit on the computer, in a file for that month’s poems. No more editing than one might do scratching out a word as you’ve just written it. No later fussing. This gets backed up a couple ways. I copy it directly onto the card. No edits. The address gets put on the card. A stamp. I wander downstairs, scan the front and back of the card and carry it out to the waiting mailbox.

Rarely, perhaps a couple times in any postcard/poetry month I might write something I think is a little too personal or one I feel uncomfortable sharing. Usually I can put it aside and write out something else in a short while. Or I will write a second poem or set of haiku using something about the first one.

I look forward to the daily ritual of writing, copying it out onto a card, making a digital copy and then bringing it out to the mailbox. I love going outside late at night and this is a wonderful excuse to go out – to mail off a handwritten poem to someone who doesn’t expect to get this particular poem. Oh yes, I know they hope to get something in their mailbox! Who doesn’t?

I wrote daily in April, most of May, a part of June and then it seemed I needed a break. I waited for August and it was hard to pick up the pieces of the process because that excitement had been in April. It was all right and will be again. I chatted with the other poets and sent a few cards and got close to the actual place where I was on the second list of names. And so I started writing again with the sense of deadline and someone waiting. And I started getting more cards in my own mailbox as people started their August Month of Poetry Postcards which lingers on into September. We were all needing some support and strength and it was good to talk about our lives and the world.

I have a tradition of writing a special poem for August 31 and sending it to everyone in my group. Day 31 still gets their own poem though! I used part of my free time in August to think about that and work on it. After I’d addressed all those cards I thought about all the different people in all the different places they were going. I hoped that my first cards had made it to them safely, maybe even that they’d been enjoyed along the way as well as by the recipient. I send a card to my two local postmasters as thanks for their help and to some bonus folks out of PoPo. That is something I really enjoy doing.

In September I took a rather intensive online watercolor class which sort of kicked my butt and head for two weeks about painting with intention. In theory, this is hard when you start and then should get easier. As the class was ending I realized there was a poetry class available about spontaneous writing and that seemed to fit into the deep thinking I was doing about intentionality and flow so I took the leap and signed up for that. I’m not sure what will become of me but I will carry on and have already signed up for August Poetry Postcard Fest 2021.

Signing up for the future is like planting bulbs – a pure sign of hope in the world!

(August) Poetry Postcard Festival 2020

NaPoWriMo – Day Twenty

Today was a day about the day job. Felt strange and in a weird way lonelier than the past month and a half. But we trudge on folks, we trudge on. (And a hat tip to my Mom, Betty Frezon for a line in her chat tonight that ended up in this poem!)

I refilled the coffee grinder today
where it hangs ready to churn my
morning beans into a small jar.
I looked at the bigger jar with
its inch of oatmeal remaining.
I threw away the cheese wrapper
and rinsed the empty milk carton.
Took the trash out, bin rumbling
put some boxes in recycling too
gave coffee grounds to the garden.
The evening light shone out of
daffodils so delightfully happy
whatever time had been measured
was paused and pressed in amber.

NaPoWriMo – Day Twenty

NaPoWriMo – Day Four

Had a nice dinner with Mom. Beautiful sunset which I watched with a police car watching me. One other person stopped by for a few minutes to snap a few photos. I kept waiting to be told to ‘move along’ but I think the officer was probably watching what I was watching. Here, have a sonnet-ish thing. Sunset photos in the next post!

In My Pocketsies

Even though, it turns out I’m not going
anywhere today. Again. Staying home
because that’s the thing we’re all doing. Uh.
So, even though I’m staying home again.
I get up, do all the things, put on clothes.
comb my hair and then — this is the surprise:
I put things in my pockets like normal.
Well, normal is such a slippery word.
I thought about this today, my pockets,
more specifically the fact I carry
three pens with me, and a small notebook too.
Two in a pocket, one on my neckline,
I’m ready to snare whatever words are
trying to sneak by. Oh — I am ready!

NaPoWriMo – Day Four

NaPoWriMo, Day Thirty, the end…

Always a bittersweet moment when the end of NaPoWriMo comes, but stay tuned for more and thanks for coming by this month to check out the poetry and painting!

Waiting for May

The last of April has come once more
a flirtatious whirl of sun and green
uncertain moments, pleasure’s relaxation
after many rounds of shaky romance
the pleasure of sitting on brown earth
does not recede, nor is it softer but
still it’s that april-spring moment, yearly
unlooked for, unplanned, not so recognized
but unconsciously celebrated for
what it is – that moment when the earth turns
the air softens, the world holds out its arms
and again whispers come sit with me
and the body, having marked time’s passing
says, hello, don’t mind if I do. Thank you.

NaPoWriMo, Day Twenty-nine

There was a lot of this “No one could have known…” floating around yesterday as a meme, but mine took a different path.

No one could have known that a childhood and
all could have landed past middle-age in
a red-hot moment and without any fuss.
No one could have known that after romance
and the pain and the trying to make it work
that love can end and life goes on anyway
No one could have known that regret is real
regret is real and forgiveness so hard
to forgive the past harder, to let go
No one could have known that forgiveness
is sometimes just accepting the facts
and cutting loose the pain, being free
No one could have known that all lessons done
leave plenty of room for more lessons to come.