Category Archives: Poetry

Oct3

A Poem (Bonus Blog Post)

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Once I wrote a lot of poetry. Now I don’t write many poems. Actually, I write almost none. Prose has supplanted poetry in my life. However, becasue today is National Poetry Day in the UK, I decided to share a poem I wrote .

I’m not very happy with the formatting. I can never get poetry to format correctly on my blog. My apologies.

Situation

My dad said

a cowboy never sits

with his back to the door.

Now it’s called situational awareness.

We make the same mistakes

again and again—

search for love, affection,

understanding.

We’re aware of our

situation,

but what can we do

to change?

Mar17

St. Patrick’s Day Limerick Bonus Blog Post

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I’m participating in #authorschallenge2019. Throughout the month of March, I’ve been responding to challenge prompts on my Blaize Sun Facebook page. Today’s challenge is to write a leprechaun limerick. I’m sharing that limerick with you today as a bonus blog post, but you can also find it (and all of my responses to the challenge) on my Blaize Sun Facebook page.

There once was a leprechaun named Shorty

who didn’t want to go to the party.

“I’d rather stay home

than ramble and roam.

Besides, I ate beans and feel farty.”

Photo by Anthony from Pexels.

Sep20

Birthday Wishes

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air, balloons, birthdayMy friend Laura-Marie is a kind and talented woman. She is s peace activist and a writer (of letters and zines and poems). She is dedicated to community, inclusion, and love. I’m blessed to have her in my life.

She visited me recently, and the topic of her birthday came up. I started thinking about what sort of gift I could give her. Last year I made a collage for her, and she already has a hat I made as well as bracelets and necklaces I created.

She and her friend Ellen Redbird have a tradition of sending each other poems for Christmas. I thought I could get on the poetry bandwagon and send Laura-Marie a poem for her birthday. With her permission, I’m sharing that poem today. I’m pleased with its playful quality, and working out the rhymes was fun for me.

Without further ado, here’s the birthday poem I wrote for my friend.

To Laura-Marie

on the Occasion of Your Birthday

Happy birthday to thee,

Laura-Marie.

Today is a day

to be joyful and gay.

I’m glad you were born

early one morn.

The work that you do

is loving and true.

Your zines help us all

stay on the ball.

 

My world is much better

when you write me a letter.

Your hugs are the best;

they give comfort and rest.

Your friendship I cherish.

It never will perish.

Have a great year,

you of long, curly hair.

Much love to you,

to you and your crew.

 

Image courtesy of https://www.pexels.com/photo/party-rubber-colorful-balloon-42067/.

 

Nov9

(Guest Post) Three Poems by Laura-Marie

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Today I am once again happy to offer poems written by my friend Laura-Marie.

no

Will vinegar kill the fern
I’m trying to kill this winter?

Awake but still in bed.
Sitting on the ottoman.

Welcome the stranger,
welcome the stranger’s phone call.

Our beliefs about our hair.
She thinks music is noise,
and she doesn’t want to hear it.

some did wrong

Some did wrong,

a hushed crime,

secret and cruel.

 

A single man

spoke the unspeakable.

Others joined in—

 

the infiltrating agents

had their evidence.

It was over.

Dream dystopia again.

 

Naked people gathered

around the piano

sang, waiting for

death the inevitable.

 

baby dream

All of the babies are girls.

I bent down to kiss one.

She slipped her tongue into my mouth.

It turned into a thorned vine

and forced itself through my body.

Thorned vines like sleeping beauty

but inside.

Laura-Marie is a zinester and peace activist living in Las Vegas, Nevada.  She likes cold brew tea, writing letters, and visiting friends.

Sep10

During the Fire

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I wrote the following poem (as the title says) during the fire which happened near my campground. I wrote it the day after I had an extra day off, thanks to a second fire that was put out quickly.

During the Fire

Three days off and

1, 2, 3, 4–I don’t wanna work now more.

Fire on the mountain

and not one’s up here anyway–

no campers

no hikers

no visitors to scrub toilets for.

I need to find some task to do.

Like the union man in

Darlington County said,

“He (meaning she, meaning me)

don’t work and

he (meaning she, meaning me)

don’t get paid.”

How long will the company

let me sit in the parking lot

with podcast and yarn project

waiting to collect parking fees

from cars that never arrive?

There’s some raking I can do

in the campground.

Best put on the uniform

and get to work

while I can.

I reference two very different songs in this poem: “Fire on the Mountain” as performed by the Grateful Dead and “Darlington County,” which, according to https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Darlington_County_(song),

is a 1984 song written and performed by Bruce Springsteen.

Aug24

Haiku

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According to https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/text/haiku-poetic-form,

A traditional Japanese haiku is a three-line poem with seventeen syllables, written in a 5/7/5 syllable count. Often focusing on images from nature, haiku emphasizes simplicity, intensity, and directness of expression.

Haiku began in thirteenth-century Japan as the opening phrase of renga, an oral poem, generally 100 stanzas long, which was also composed syllabically. The much shorter haiku broke away from renga in the sixteenth-century..

I’ve written a haiku or two in my time, most recently in June of this year. Here’s my latest:

The wind is chilly

today and the sun hidden.

Must find my jacket.

Jun10

My Campground

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I wrote another poem. I went from zero to two in a couple of weeks, which isn’t a bad speed as far as poems go.

I was writing a letter to my friend and told her I didn’t have words to describe my campground. Then, as is my way, I fired off some words to describe my campground. I contemplated the words and decided they were quite poetic. So I added some words to the original words, then played with the order and finally turned it all into a poem.

I think of it as a poem that resembles an impressionist painting.

My Campground

Trees tower green.

Ladybugs alight.

Campfire smoke tickles nose.

Surrounded by songs of invisible birds.

Occasional mosquito buzzes and bites.

No noise of cars.

Sinking sun illuminates vibrant, verdant meadow.

Gentlest breeze whispers through leaves.

Sky high above crowns, blue one step from grey.

Temperature slowly dips.

Squirrel scampers on the outskirts.

Nature’s peace.

IMG_3002

I took this photo of the vibrant, verdant meadow.

Jun2

Birdsong

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At one time I wrote quite a bit of poetry, but I hadn’t written a poem in years.

Writing poetry takes a lot of time for me. To write good poems, I need quiet, empty hours stretching in front of me. I haven’t had quiet, empty time in a while, so my poetry writing has mostly dried up.

The last time I wrote a poem was October 2012, when I was stuck with Mr. Carolina in Redding, CA. (You can read that story and the poem here: (http://www.rubbertrampartist.com/2015/02/13/broke-down-in-redding-california/.)

But the other morning I woke up at 5am to the sound of birds chirping. As I listened to the birds, words started coming to me, so I turned on the light and grabbed my notebook.

Here is the poem I wrote:

Birdsong

Birds sing

before the dawn.

My first waking consciousness

is their communication.

What might they say

to one another?

Get out of here!

This is my turf!

And Hey honey!

Let’s make some babies…

The ladies answer

Chase me if you want me

or Your genes aren’t good enough for my offspring.

Later when the children hatch,

there will be choruses of

Feed me! Feed me! Feed me!

Birdsong sounds lovely to the human ear

but to birds

it’s relationship conversation.

Apr3

Poem about Stealth Van Living

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My friend Laura-Marie Taylor wrote a poem about stealth van living. Although Laura-Marie doesn’t live in a van (and I don’t think she ever has), I think her poem shows a clear understanding of how not to call attention to one’s van home.

Without further adieu, here is Laura-Marie’s poem:

Make your van forgettable
so it blends in–buy
no bumper stickers or weird
patterned curtains like leopard print.
Don’t do it.
Yeah, Eve was framed
and your silence will not protect you.
But you need invisibility
more than to confuse
the strangers behind you.
No painted peace signs
especially.

Prismatic Decorative Ornamental Peace Sign by GDJ

Thanks to Laura-Marie Taylor for honoring me by allowing me to share her poem.

Image courtesy of https://openclipart.org/detail/274498/prismatic-decorative-ornamental-peace-sign.
Jan7

Declaration of Independence

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I was cleaning my vanhome recently and I found a fat envelope I thought contained old letters a friend had written to me. When I looked closely, I realized the handwriting on the paper was mine. On some of the pages I’d copied texts I’d written to friends soon after leaving my not-very-nice boyfriend. On another page was a poem I’d composed less than one month after leaving that guy. I want to share the poem today.

Declaration of Independence

I want to

sport hot pink bandanas,

sleep when the sun set,

and awaken at dawn.

 

I want to

laugh at my own jokes,

dance among raindrops,

then sit in silence and calm.

 

I want to

read paperback novels,

eat yogurt and apples,

wear pants and be strong.