catching up

I will admit, I did not write a poem yesterday. It's the first day I have actually skipped writing during NaPoWriMo (although I did finish up a post I had been working on over on my nature blog, so all is not lost).

Here is some of the stuff that I wrote but did not post last week. Haikus were the best I could muster, and even some of those aren't exactly in 5-7-5 form.

---

sun drenched hillside
the golden light of evening
cool clean breezes blow

-

birds scratch at leaf litter
hip hop jump back and forth
looking for dinner

-

at the forest's edge
querulous nonsense chatter
marks his territory



Day 14

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golden spring sunset
incomparable palette
sparkling blue sky




Day 15

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big brown bird singing
repeat repeat two by two
hiding in plain sight
(any guesses on the identity of this bird?)

sound washes over
voices rise high in the sky
dawn song awakens




Day 16

untitled

My mind
is full
but
my hands
are empty.
My heart
is open
but
my arms
are closed.
Inspiration lacking.
Destination unclear.
Crossroads,
here.



Day 19

Sunday haiku

Fluffy white and blue
cotton candy up above
patchwork sky shimmers




Day 18

Unfair

Soil - pilaged
Leaves - mangled
Roots - destroyed
Punished for doing your job,
you performed admirably, yet a little too well.
You took hold in the inhospitable soil
where little else would grow,
slowly choking out what few jewels did thrive.
If you had your way,
within a few years a monoculture would surely reign,
but I did not sign on for that.
Your iron fist will not take over my garden,
so the pulling begins and continues for days.
At first it is cathartic,
the removal feels justified -
Aha, there's a hosta!  Oh look, another! -
but it soon turns to remorse.
A realization that this plant was only doing its job,
covering the ground just as the label said.
It did not sign on for this.

---

Wow, things are just going downhill with my plant poetry, aren't they? This one is based on real life, on the true removal of a lovely but invasive Vinca plant from my flower garden. Poems from days 14-16 will be posted tomorrow - I left my notebook of poems at work by accident on Friday.



Day 17

Blackout

I'm still writing, but I'm on a self-imposed blogging blackout right now.  And right in the middle of NaPoWriMo.  The nerve, right?  I'll be back in a few days.

Poem Starting with a Line from Norman Dubie

My favorite pastime has become the imaginary destruction of flowers.
It comes standard with my evil twin.
I take their pictures and learn their names.
I consult guides in order to know where they like to grow.
I drool over plant catalogs and linger in nurseries,
wishing I had the space and means to buy them all.
Little do they know what I have in store for them in my mind.
Sure, I'll plant them up all neat and pretty,
spacing them in an aesthetically pleasing manner.
All the while planning how I'll painfully pluck each and every petal,
how I'll singe the roots of some and drown the roots of others.
I'll chop the tops clean off of the showiest blooms
just as they are reaching the height of beauty.
A riot of color will go up in flames,
nothing left but acrid black smoke,
no trace remaining of their original perfume.
I will count on that perfume, though,
to bring me back from the clouds, feet on the ground.
Enjoying the glorious living creatures about which
I have these very inappropriate daydreams.

---

Today's NaPoWriMo prompt was to use a line from a Norman Dubie poem to begin a poem of our own. This turned out to be quite an interesting exercise. For those of you who read yesterday's happy floral-themed poem, this is quite a departure from that!



Day 13

Floral delights

Elvin, dwarfish, itty-bitty, wee -
these are some words used to describe thee.
Tiny flowers, close to the ground,
so hard to see unless I really look around.
Ivy, violet, just to name a few,
Each day another one springs up anew.
Striped ones, white ones, purple ones, too -
for something so small you really give a view!
A being so bold but that doesn't make a sound
makes it more special to know that I have found
a dainty thing so wonderful and free
a beauty that I wish everyone could see.

---

What happens when it's 9:00 at night, the prompt for the day didn't really spark anything for ya, but you've got the need to make something with a sing-song sound? Drop back and punt and write about whatever is dominant in your mind. In my case, I've been photographing spring wildflowers quite a bit lately, which provided the inspiration for this rhyming little ditty. The structure is not as solid as I would like (I was originally aiming for heroic couplets, but that proved to be a bit much), but it's better than coming up empty-handed!




Day 12