Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Poetic Asides April 2014 Poem A Day Challenge - Days 16-20

Ok only 10 days left in the free poetry book give away and I have commented on... let's see - one site so far - Don’t be like me and wait til the last minute go to Book of Kells and scroll all the way down even in the comment section for more- and of course go to our own cupoetry blog for our 2 great selections -
So how's the Poetic Asides PAD? A poem a day and it’s up to day 20??? - Robert Brewer had some good advice - “’I’ve been playing with forms a little this month. It’s something I do when I start to feel a little stuck in my writing. Imposing rules–oddly enough–seems to free me up a bit.”  So using that advice wrote an anti triolet triolet about family - whew only 10 more days - you can still join too -

Day 16 - Elegy

elegy apology

I am sorry I abandoned you
my sorry string bag
of navel oranges
tipped and spilling
end over rolling end to the edge
of a slick granite counter
that first slack then splayed then juggling
never ever fast or good
to catch them all moment(s)
I thought I was helping you
this too
late a pungent now
turmeric and coriander hallway
blast furnace door
of us
shut tight
but you were too young
room temperature cold in transparent
endless mazes
puerile and shiny as thumb rubbed
to be all alone

Day 17- Pop Culture

Why did the developer take the flappy bird app off the market?
What is this some kind of joke?
A retro phone app earning 50,000 dollars a day and the developer
withdraws it because of its “addictive nature” - easy to learn, hard to master,
simply tap to fly or fall from gravity, get a point
for each mario tube you navigate, only has 1 bell and 2 whistles
and an infinite playing field.
He said he might bring it back if there were a warning label on it.
For 50,000 dollars a day I would put a warning label on my life -
little necktie me tapping buttons at work or falling into homelessness,
navigating the everyday crap that keeps popping up
like stepping on the cat or having the wife yell at me again,
the next day getting up and doing it again
and again endlessly until I really finally die -
who wouldn’t want a distraction from this tedious
addictive warning labelled life and if flappy bird won’t do it,
splashy fish I know you will,
you see I’ve always been afraid of heights
and it’s been said we all come from the ocean anyways -
simply tap to keep afloat, it has 1 splash and 2 bubbles,
so just relax and concentrate like hell
to avoid being eaten alive

Day 18 - Weather

whether weather

weather it will be
changeable as a tired
mind flat in a just you wait
a midwestern minute
depends on whether
fogged over eyes
a brow clouded with concern
tears falling like rain
mouth an open headlight “o”
of an approaching train
roar time to head for cover
now siren
or all clear

is our cocoon
in this life
even indoors
we must change in its presence
pressured to open windows and doors
or close them
the hard chrysalis
of a coffin cracking open
our only release
from this burden

Day 19 - Color


is not brindled
nor mottled light diffusing
layered leaves leaving us cold
on our school picnic
or calamitous jane fingering her 6 gun
except in our imaginations
nor is it muslin or linen
or a trifold hat
no matter how much it would like us to think so -
she purrs such a small defective motor
blind and deaf
to all else but hunger and touch
maternal mammalian desire insistent within us
we comply crowding the cage to be next
in line to bottle feed the writhing
rough cloth of tongue and paws
certain traits are always carried on we are told
as are the anomalies

Day 20- Family poem

For your family Hallmark cards are always best
for saying I love you I miss you and I’m sorry
give the triolets and fancy imagery a rest
for your family Hallmark cards are always best
you only see them for important events now like death
and your being different will only make them worry
so for your family Hallmark cards are always best
for saying I love you I miss you and I’m sorry

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Free Poetry Book Giveaways for National Poetry Month and Poetic Asides April 2014 Poem A Day - Days # 11-15

I'm probably ruining my own chances of getting some free books of poetry but we are all about the sharing here so -

For National Poetry Month, there are 30 or more blogs, including our very own CU Poetry blog, that are giving away free poetry books on their blogs. The rules - comment on their blog posting and you are entered into a random drawing to win one of the books they are offering.  Which books? At least one of the books has to be from an author the blog admires (other than themselves) - the other books may be their own books or from other authors as well.

How do you find the list of sites? Go to Book of Kells and be sure to scroll all the way down in the comment section for even more sites than the ones listed. What a great opportunity for you to explore new blogs and have a chance at winning some cool books

and if you are in town -

Our Last Workshop for April is Tuesday 22nd at Champaign library and is right before the Big Open Mic on Saturday the 26th - please join us as our Poetry Month Celebrations come to a close -

And these are from the Poetic Asides Poem a Day 2014 Challenge check it out here

(All the poetic aside contributors and all of their poems are found here as well on the poem a day search tool)

Day 15 - Love/Anti- Love -  two for tuesday

grandma and grandpa

after the great depression
he was the hand vise attached to the work bench
she was the thing that needed holding
gripping too tightly
the garage was his 
the thing they called god 
what sawed 
and hammered them
it made of her
a home

Day 14 - "If I were blank"

if I were to see the future waving at me
from down a crowded sidewalk
would I too casually ignore it
like confronting an annoying acquaintance
its right hand raised and scuttling and calling
my name as it wends its way through traffic
aiming straight at me
would I feel hemmed in by my duties
not to trample my neighbors
remember the rules of polite society
and decline to run away screaming
but instead turn to face it
face to my pimply faced high school past
too eager to please
the one the teachers always called on
as their ace in the hole example
old enough now to finally recognize
my old nemesis expectations
and the future 
I am leading
right now

Day 13 - Animal Poem - possibly a sestina?


The Phylum Chordata Sestina Blues

it’s hair of the dog, pouch of the wallaby time,
fuzz of the navel gazing wanna see
yurs too warm blooded heat
seeking missile builder heart
like my pecos laden bill of sale
before it was bread, bill and don knotts, fuck you

you say tunicate I say tunicata you
say I’m budding another you I mean me it’s time
to breathe and filter feed and everything's for sale
in this sessile existence stuck to a substrata in a sea
of us I mean me my swaying separate heart
beating in time with the tides but lacking any heat

thin skinned and breathable permeable to heat
and water mucous secreting amphibi-us you
are more than your egg laying larval staged heart
splayed and dissected on an 8th graders table- time
will tell you gotta kiss a lotta frogs you see
they’re evaporating in a flag waving distance and no longer on sale

tongue prestidigitation on a prodigious sliding scale
round rock hugging heat
seeking cold blooded slit eyed licker that sees
us feeling something in the dead yew - you
a desert blind slithering under a rock the last time
it beats for having disturbed your slumbering my heart

sweet birds of a morning feather one in the hand my heart
sings its territorial mating bill of sale
pecking order hollow boned migration time
lack of sun and seasonal green light food and heat
wing beat of a thin ancestral dinosaurian you
your black eye moving among twenty snowy mountains all i see

more than all the others there are plenty in the sea
gilly aquateers water runs your heart
schooled or stalking it’s all about you
always moving even breaking your atmosphere to sail
into an air you have no name for the sun’s heat
washing over you breathless and out of time

all this time wandering in and out of seas
in and out of sailing bodies minds seeking heat
seeking maybe the heart of another me I mean you


amoeba blues
or my single cell prison memoirs

they say
thin skinned
and exposed
little more
than a bag
all surface tension
and equilibrium
these too thin
of self
one small part
in one big whole.
I float -
getting too full
of myself -
too tight genes
and twisting
like some crazy
balloon animal.
a taste
of who I really am
neither he nor she
but another me
linked and joined
finally going
making something of ...
One final pop
and I split -
to myself
once again
and left wondering
if I can ever really be
more than just

Day 12 - City Poem

everyday we walk
the same city streets
past the same abandoned alleys,
on this day she insists we stop -
for my 11 year old daughter understanding
comes on one day old kitten paws 
kneading and mewling and blind to all else 
but hunger and warmth
every three hours the rough tongue
of her damp cloth
needed to stimulate the kitten to piss and defecate
before and after every feeding
the pin prick claws of conscience and insistent
crying waking her to the sheer amount of life it takes
to sustain one small life,
the quick calculation of the number of alleys by the
number of neighborhoods
and the great city mother once again on the news
boozy and bleary eyed and putting on make up
for the next big gala event and boardroom meeting
and if she will not be the city’s mother who will be?

Day 11 -  make a statement the title of your poem


“what kind of person are you actually?”

the latest facebook quiz
says the kind of person I actually am
is “neutral evil”
not “chaotic evil” or “evil genius”
but lukewarm evil
the worst kind of evil you can possibly be -
a lethal Lord Voldemort and Miss Piggy cocktail
for anyone stupid enough to taste the wrath
of my being me -
of course the results upset me like it would 
any normal person - so I changed the results,
trolled the author’s blog and facebook pages and tried 
to hack the quiz site unsuccessfully -
no one likes to be thought of as evil
the real evil ones have no buyer's remorse,
hearts filled with loves lost, slim fingers
of chance touching but taken away
by a vengeful fate
until it occurs to me those are exactly
the things keeping evil on the right path - the proper focus 
for an evil so epic it's incapable of change,
my own lazy ADD distracted personality
quickly onto the next quiz and keeping me from being
or doing anything important, good or really truly evil


"for the birds"

Sweeping bird seeds and shells and feathers and shit
off the front porch
I think
I don't want to feed them anymore
but they still depend on me
winter not quite over and spring not yet come -
this metaphor applying to many things in life
and not just my children
and I know I could just move the damn thing
to the back yard
but then
when would I ever remember
to look up to see such colorful madness and flying
and beauty and messes,
the last of winter's leaves
covering my knees and hips approaching my chest
and one final rest
so peacefully
settling in