NaPoWriMo "Grand Finale"

Since I've been around the kiddos below for the last few weekends, I'll finish my NaPoWriMo efforts with a very short, very rhyme-y poem for each of them.  Just little nibbles from my wind-fried, pollen-soaked, sun-spotted, sleepy little online-class-burdened mind.

O
She's getting betters
With letters
These days
She knows what some say.

G
He will create
What he imaginates
Unless he is screaming
For a screen

Ba
Smiling she checks to see
if she must do what you said to do
she pauses and proceeds slowly
In case she doesn't really have to

Br
Smiles and smiles
for miles and miles
but smiles get thin
when the teeth cut in!

J
Jayden is a dancer
A booty-scooting prancer
Shaking and hip-hopping
Running-man no stopping

P
Cherub-cheeks
and G's are D's
Who would guess the potty
Is where she pees?

NaPoWriMo Poem #17

Friends

synapses that spark
after years of the dark
our paths have diverged
but the way back
is like making our way
to a childhood home
from before we could read
the street signs
we do not know the map
but we know the turns
that will lead us there
and we run the last few steps
in joyful recognition.

NaPoWriMo Poem #16

#16

Regret

Regret is a lie
you tell yourself
because
it is easier to believe
that things
could have been different
if only

Regret
unlike revenge
is a dish best put into a plastic container
and carried around in a lunch bag
and forgotten in the bottom of a backpack
or behind the driver's seat
until it festers so
that you fear to pry the lid off
and whiff the vinegary remains
of what used to be
a simple tug of the heart
and so you toss it

NaPoWriMo-- Desperate attempt to get close to 30 poems! How many is this?

Pop flies at practice

The park rings with the ping of the metal bat.
Young boys with sweaty heads under their caps squint into the late afternoon sunshine.
The boy in the red shirt whistles through his fingers to his teammates
or maybe just to entertain himself at shortstop
experimenting with his grungy fingers to his lips
Looking around to see who might be admiring his efforts.
Ping!  Get ready!
His glove reaches to the sky
a foot from where the ball comes down.
Or comes down an inch above where the ball rolls by.
The boy behind him goes for it
and the boy in the red shirt goes back to his whistling.
Ping!  Foul ball.
Ping!  Pop fly.
Ping!  Another one passes him by.

#
Facebook 4/26

Dreading chi chi smasher tomorrow
bird nest in the electric meter box
lovely day
But only because of the picture
I would highly encourage everyone to vote
earned my brownie points today
chained themselves to the dais before a planned public hearing
Stinkbugs suck.  da bulls.

T Ball!
Karaoke
cohort peeps
SHE MUST BE BROKEN!

pass the omnibus gun bill allowing guns in public places like libraries
not very good in the pool

Woohoo
Woot!
Yikes
OMG!
Hopefully
Okay
Amber Alert
Chained Ethnic Studies Students Take Over School Board in Tucson

Smoke and ash.  New fire.
now friends

we see things as we are

 

NaPoWriMo Will I ever catch up?

Way, way behind.  But here we go...   Ginsberg, Goldberg, etc. all say first thoughts are best thoughts so maybe quick, quick poems will somehow lead to something, right?

Quick, Quick Poem...

Tombstone Heritage Ranch

On High Lonesome
along a long two lane road
through the high desert scrabble
of what used to be grassland
and now is tufts punctuating
mesquite
four stone signs
false oracles of the American dream
a development that never developed
lots that appear as the unbroken mesquite lands
parcelled out in imaginary acreage
the roads literally lead nowhere
and metaphorically as well
but those who do not travel on the roads
but across and among the mesquite and grass-tufted high desert
have paused next to, behind these false stone oracles
that proclaim Tombstone Heritage Ranch
and have opened bean cans with pocket knives
drank water from gallon jugs
and have left behind the refuse
and travelled onward toward a new American dream
punctuated by other oracles
who may prove false