4.03.2022

Poetry Month In The Year 2022

 

For the past year (longer, if I'm truthful here) 

I've been mostly just scribbling, not much poetry, 

lots of anger, lots of anxiety, lots of swearing, 

lots of exclamation points, lots of hearts (for those 

I use many colors of pens), lots of loving and pride, 

lots of hate to be honest, lots of confusion, lots 

and lots and lots of stress (I mean lots), lots 

of writing down other people's poems, lots of headlines 

from the news, lots of garbled up trash (have you ever 

seen my handwriting?), lots that amounts to not much 

in lots of notebooks but it's April which is poetry month 

so here you have my confessional, carry on


3.02.2022

HOME: A Virtual Exhibit

 

Hard to express the wonderfulness 

of this virtual exhibit on the topic of HOME 

& how happy I am to be a part of it with two poems,

“Maple & Moon” and “Generations.” 

Thank you, Forbes Library,

right around the corner from our new home. 


    HOME: A Virtual Exhibit 

by western Massachusetts artists and writers


2.22.2022

Found Poem for 2022: Everyone Has An Opinion

 

I just know

people are tired

and the scarlet letter

    of this pandemic

                is the mask.

It may be painless,

it may be easy,

    but it’s inconvenient,

        it’s annoying,

        and it reminds us

        that we’re in 

    the middle of

  a pandemic.



*Quoting Rochelle Walensky, Director,

 US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention,

 In the Bubble With Andy Slavitt podcast 2/21/22

 

P.S. Has she read The Scarlet Letter

11.29.2021

Sevenling: Calamitous Autumn

 

Calamitous autumn

follows farcical summer, hell

a whole year of melodrama


As butterfly belly

flits to hawk belly, pivots

to soar the belly of the ocean


It’s not at all clear

whether reversal is possible


Using words from Kerry’s November list on Instagram

Reminder that I share stuff there too @runawaysentence

11.28.2021

Gaining Altitude

So thrilled that my poem "Gaining Altitude" is included in Silkworm 14: Rise, the annual review of the Florence Poets Society. Wonderful!

 

10.24.2021

Destination

 

Me & my rube-soul

sorried our journey

pennies to worries

fractioning wholes

always alone 

trying to fly home


9.27.2021

Persuasion

 

Kitty

sitting

on my notebook


   begs the question


What you got 

to write about

anyway?


9.06.2021

In Which the Poet Requests Guidance

 

Raise your hand

if you’ve been where I am headed

because I do not know

this no-footed cat

or any of these boxes

full of promises


The air breathes different here

but it is still still

I do not know tenterhooks

which might be like eggshells

and I am almost out

of eggs


This latest place

is already taken

so I will keep on wish-packing

but if you’ve already been

where I am headed

please let me know


8.23.2021

That Late August Feeling

 

Drenched in hurricane rain

wrung out from all of it

     nagging 

is this right

or do I not know what I am

     missing

How would I know what is not

how could you

     resigning

to the vast whatever of it all

I squeeze my washcloth days

                          & soak


8.14.2021

Why Bother With a Title

Can I write

myself out of this place

        somehow

        hard to say

but if

the lines on these pages

        provide an exit ramp

                one line

                two lines

                line by line

driving toward someplace not here

    I know not

but maybe 

these few lines

        can start me going 

   somewhere


8.04.2021

Immunity

 

I protect my lungs

so they can breathe in

this breeze that won’t stay

the songs of dawn-birds

your words

the kind ones

all circulating inside me

like antibodies

at the ready


6.13.2021

Visions in Granite

 

Awareness 

of my body as a flower 

decaying after blooming

or a bell slowly ringing

or a tomb


Dreaming 

through every mortal day 

holding goodly tones

but there exists a stone

with my name on it

 

4.24.2021

Generations

 

At my grandmother’s place

I dreamed in a pink canopy bed

under a heavy wool crazy quilt

pieced by her grandmother

and embroidered with hope

the initials of family women


Still now the quilt is stashed

in my hope chest as I wrap 

dreams around a girl answering

to the the name of my mother

my grandmother and her mother

and hers and I hope against hope



Today is the 11th birthday of the runaway sentence!

Of course time is weird so that seems like a long/short time

and it seems we’ve lost a year and are working on another

and anyone reading this can tell my writing patterns

have certainly changed and not for the better but still I hope

and dream and have some ideas about changing this place around

so watch for that in the coming year and thank you,

gentle readers, for persisting. Peace and love.

4.03.2021

Keepin' It Real

 

I mean

for real

poetry month

can go pound sand


I mean every month

is for poetry

but I cannot figure 

how to write poems

in these times


I mean

if you want the truth

I am jealous

of people writing poems

today and tomorrow

and every other day



I've written a poem a day in April for a long time 

but am a little broken now and would be glad to pull 

just a few out of my scrambled mind this year. 

Probably will delete this because it's too whiny LOL

3.14.2021

Another Pandemic Spring

 

Even 

my forced hyacinth

is cloying and sickly

sweetest blooms turned sepia

in a wash of melancholy

like sunbathing topless

in a patch of warmth

trousered against sea air

carrying salt

to cold puritan beaches

where around every corner

williwaws

might hold witches after all

hungrily sunbathing

in sickly-warm memories of spring

healthier hyacinths

better days



Using words from Kerry’s March list on Instagram

Reminder that I share stuff there too @runawaysentence

2.25.2021

Found Poem for 2021: Unspeakable Loss Version

 

This week,

the USA passed a milestone

    so grim

    so heartbreaking

    so unnerving

       & unnecessary:

                   500,000.



*quoting Dan Rather, Midweek Question on Steady@substack.com 2-24-21

2.14.2021

Valentine's Day

 

If I could

I’d use

all my best blues

to paint you

and me 

feeling free

the color of the breeze

and my sigh

your hand on my thigh

as we drive

shades of being alive

me and you

all my best blues

I do


2.03.2021

Found Poem for 2021: Big Lie Version

 

Insufficient 

evidence exists 

upon which 

a reasonable jurist 

could conclude 

that his statements 

were accurate 

or not

and he therefore 

denies 

they were false



*brief by Donald J. Trump defending against impeachment, Feb 2021