Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Noisy Neighbors

At
bedtime
I hear coyotes
through the open window,
whooping it up
like frat boys

In the morning
a chaos of chirping
migrates into my dreams
until I wake
to the
final stars
winking goodbye

First night of springtime,
sleeping with
the windows open


Day #14 PAD, just a wee bit late.

Monday, April 13, 2015

Waiting

"Time is the school in which we learn."  -Joan Didion

The waiting room attendant
is bright, chipper, relentless
as an alarm clock.

The room itself is filled with
soft muzak and soap opera dialog
competing to be white noise, but
at least they cover over
the florescent hum.

I sip elderly, burnt coffee
without really tasting it
as I recite silent prayers and promises
to learn the lessons of patience.


In the Imaginary Garden we were asked to write something based on a quote from Joan Didion.

Sunday, April 12, 2015

Amphitrite

     Painting by Daria Petrilli

When I went
to the doctor about
the growing lump in my abdomen
no one suspected I had an ocean in my womb. 
But
that did explain  
the leaking and the smell.
My uterus has become a coy (kio) pond; 
I am retaining water.

Of
course
the doctors
recommended
an immediate hysterectomy. 
But they were not sure if it should be done
by an OB-GYN,  or marine biologist, or ichthyologist, 
or some other –ologist altogether

I
decided
to wait and see.
Meanwhile, I’ve stopped
eating sea food and developed a fondness for kelp. 
Also, I’m considering a tattoo – maybe compass points 
on my right thigh.
After all,

I am
Mother of the Oceans,
caring for my realm.
I am
Goddess of the Waters
deserving your devotions
I am
Queen of the Seas
favored of all daughters
and all your marine dreams
reside in
me.



*Amphitrite: In ancient Greek mytholog Amphitrite was a sea-goddess and wife of Poseidon.  Under the influence of the Olympian pantheon, she became merely the consort of Poseidon, and was further diminished by poets to a symbolic representation of the sea.  -Wikipedia

Saturday, April 11, 2015

Seasoning

    Four Seasons in One Day from Open Source Images

After drooping heat,
grey autumn rain chills into
winter’s mocking snow
which settles on bud and shoot.
That’s April in Wisconsin.


This is for PAD Day #11 and the Imaginary Garden, sort of. 

Dear Future Granddaughter

Your daddy was a funny kid
he loved dinosaurs more than anything
and even when he was only two
he could carry a tune
like nobody's business.

Aunt Kate was a cute little kid,
carting around kitties
and giving them “giggly hugs”
with her orange curls bobbing.

Grandpa had the best memory
he would say, “Three years ago today
we had an inch of snow
and the Brewers beat the Cubs three to one.”
You had to tag along after him,
cause he never stood still.

Grandma read to you
and told stories with you as the hero,
The cats and dogs loved her best,
and she always looked sort-of far away.

Great-grandma grew up in South Dakota;
she used to shoot prairie dogs
from her bedroom window.
She worked when no one's mom did,
but mostly she was kind to everyone.

Great-grandpa was sooo funny.
When he was little he loved cars and licorice.
He was always into mischief
with go-karts and fire crackers,
skating and card playing
and telling stories.

Remember the stories -
tell your children,
and their children
for as long as you can.


In the Imaginary Garden we were asked to write to your ancestors and/ or descendants.  I've chosen to write a very personal one, to my future descendants about their ancestors.

Thursday, April 9, 2015

Deep

   Sculptures at the Bottom of the Ocean by Jason deCaires Taylor 
     image from johnboildstep.wordpress.com

Poets are not afraid to drown. -Janet Frame

From little on we are
rocked in cradles
on waves,
pulled back and forth
by sun and moon.

As we go deeper
we do not fear.
though we are ruined
we do not fear.
through countless days and nights
poets are not afraid to drown.

I must be a mermaid, Rango. I have no fear of depths and a great fear of shallow living.”  -Anais Nin

Over in the  Imaginary Garden we were asked to to combine words and art. using a work of art and a quote to inspire our writing.

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Inspiration, Post Haste

Dear St. Cecilia,

I could really use some help here.
My muse took off
with a two-bit musician and a bottle of hooch,
and here I am just a week and a day
into Poem-a-Day month.
I’m desperate!
Could you sprinkle a little
magic dust from an old thesaurus,
whisper sweet nothings
(or bitter, sarcastic anythings)
in my ear?
Please, do something!

Desperately and Uninspiredly Yours,
-Other Mary

P.S. If I don’t hear back from you soon my next letter will be to Bacchus. 


Abhra over at dVerse Poets Pub has asked us to write a letter.  Oh, and in case you're wondering, St. Cecilia is the patron saint of poets, writers, muscians and artists in general.  And I'll bet you know Bacchus is the Roman god of wine.