Spinning

Ear

   plugs

might help

  to avoid

permanently lost

  auditory functioning

from the never-ending concert

     of bad news cycle

#29 of 30 Poems in November to benefit Center for New Americans!

Mad Poetry

Writing

by the number

in a chaos of kids

and life and news

and of course cats

seems impossible.

Wouldn’t it be great

to poem by number--

metaphor here,

enjambment over there,

or fill-in-the-blank

like Mad Libs

(no adjectives)

and voilà!

Your point is made,

beautifully expressed.
All done, well done, finis.

#28 of 30 Poems in November to benefit Center for New Americans! Running out of steam over here, uh oh.

Swallowing

Swallowing

in the din of inhumanity

about women and doctors and workers

who deserve to be gunned down

families who are turned away

to certain death in plastic boats

because they threaten our way of life

there’s so much to protect here

cheap electronics

plastic shit and freedom fries

the right to be gunned down by cops

or lunatics

each one is somebody’s hero

I’m speechless

powerless

retreating for solace in a book of verse

remembering how naively I thought

our children would enjoy more freedoms

I don’t know what else to write

#27 of 30 Poems in November to benefit Center for New Americans 

Kimono

Passerby

dream-treader

you floated to me

itinerant

free

crouched

Indian-style

the earth at your ear

presented gifts

of yourself

I learned to keep

for myself

with no apology

#26 of 30 Poems in November to benefit Center for New Americans 

Primitive Reflex

They say

when one window shuts

another opens

when one passes

a new soul is born

but we come

crying

into this cold world

alone

as we leave

and it’s too cold

for that open window

after dark

too lonely for tears

For Fireblossom’s prompt in the Imaginary Garden: DREAD

& #25 of 30 Poems in November to benefit Center for New Americans

Rant Ad Nauseam

I feel a rant coming on

about how entitlement

drips and spreads and sullies

everything. Today it’s about guys

who think their stones are so big

that they can say any damn thing

to anybody. Even to a woman

who says I don’t like you

and don’t talk to me and stop

contacting me. Even that woman,

or especially that woman.

Entitled bastards sure know

how to sully up lovely things,

I’ll give you that much. Nice going.

Now fuck off, entitled bastard.

No doubt tomorrow

I’ll have a new subject for ranting.

Whew, that feels better. Sometimes this shit just writes itself. Nonetheless I'm counting this as #24 of 30 Poems in November to benefit Center for New Americans!

Monday Morning Breaks

Morning breaks on crooked arm,

From dreams I resist sun.

(Wake, wake, you slugabed,

Work needs to be done.)

Very greatly, lassitude

Tethers me to bed.

(But without your work-a-day

Children won’t be fed.)

In a slumber well intact

Fortunes visit me.

(To collar me in dream-land

They beg on bended knee.)

Sleep-dismissing day and work,

Spirits drag me down.

(You’ve no use for daylight.

Sink, sink and drown.)

Last-ditch fury, roil the quilts

Of my tender sleep.

(May as well stop fighting.

Laugh, laugh the deep.)

#23 of 30 Poems in November to benefit Center for New Americans, styled after a poem titled "In Arcady" by William Cosmo Monkhouse (1840-1901).

Milkman

Yesterday

our veins ran with it

In an hour

anxiety will stick

like leeches on the brain

Right now

let’s invite the plaque

to settle in

clog our valves

with the milk of our marriage

Constrict

Conserve

Color

#22 of 30 Poems in November to benefit Center for New Americans. For Margaret's Play It Again prompt to the Real Toads featuring Bjorn's TIME TRAVEL

Etiquette for Every Day

What if the proper etiquette

for this

   my denouement,

requires obnoxious pandering

        accepting reprimand

Instead of shuffling

          downturned eyes

the earth to glare upon

I’ll rise in solidarity

         and be already gone

#21 of 30 Poems in November to benefit Center for New Americans! I'm *slightly* behind but will catch up. Eek!

Meowy

Wishes to be

curled up in your lap

arms outstretched

Petted

there there

everything’s all right

Been out alllll dayyyy after a long week so I'm counting this just-before-midnight post as #20 of 30 Poems in November to benefit Center for New Americans. I thought this might be the start of something. Maybe it still is. Meow!

Birds of a Feather

Eight birds

perched on a lamp-post

extending over the highway

grip against tremors

caused by wind upriver

and the Prime Chix truck

roaring underneath

Premiere Poultry Distribution

all the way from Foodmart Road

Eight birds

perched on a lamp-post

wish they were someplace else

anywhere but this lamp-post

squawk incessantly

about their outrage

and seem to have forgotten

the prime directive about birds--

they know how to fly

For Corey’s wishing prompt to the Real Toads: HEART’S DESIRE

And #19 of 30 Poems in November to benefit Center for New Americans!

Untitled, 11-18-15

Sunglasses

turning autumn

to technicolor

don’t provide shade

against atrocity

Staring directly

at the sun

only burns

the memory of violence

on my retinas

No amount

of hippie peace music

drowns out

the wails of war

Fleece can’t warm

this November

My children

are listening

There’s no avoiding

this

#18 of 30 Poems in November to benefit Center for New Americans.

How Am I Supposed to Write With This Going On

Kitty in my lap

wriggles & shimmies

head-butts & kneads

kisses with a cold wet nose

wags her tail

settles down & round again

blinks

gives me that look

LOVE ME for crying out loud

MEOW! What am I supposed to do? I'm meowing this as #17 of 30 Poems in November to benefit Center for New Americans.

Refuge

Gripping the sides

of the plastic boat,

tight in her father’s arms

for now, a little one looks up

and prays that the crescent moon

should toss down an anchor,

signalling land.

The same crescent moon

is spied by my daughter

through her bedroom window,

high above the backyard maple,

upon which to make

a young girl’s fervent wish

before I tuck her in.

Goodnight, moon.

#16 of 30 Poems in November to benefit Center for New Americans.