POEM: Haiking Haikus

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Emergent Tower at Holden Arboretum

“Haiking Haikus”

In the forest, the

illusion of loneliness

is overwhelming.

I lose the Spring in

my step somewhere along the

Emergent Tower.

Towering among

the forest canopy, its

wooden bones reach out.

White smoke rises from

above and beyond the tree-

tops: Nuclear steam.

The world sways beneath

my feet. I know it’s better

to bend than to break.

*image taken during the Haiku Hike on May 6th, 2018 at Holden Arboretum

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POEM: Apple Blossom Lament

Apple Blossom Lament

Springtime snow of
apple blossoms
poupouri-ing the ground,
the sidewalks, the parking lots,
with pristine white petals
fragrant and sweet
in the cool breeze
of a warm sunny day

wind sweeps away
Gaia’s aromatic debris,
an unseen janitor
with an invisible broom,
whistling while he works.

*image courtesy of PublicDomainPictures.Net

POEM: Mourning Dandelions

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“Mourning Dandelions”

 

I walk in my front yard, the dawn

brings out golden lions

lounging in emerald grass.

Their teeth drip sunlight.

Perhaps later, I will

harvest bright blossoms for

an herbal infusion, light and sweet,

to celebrate May’s arrival.

 

Then I hear the lawnmower’s low growl.

Those sharp lion teeth can’t survive

the sharper blades cutting, splitting,

ripping them from the ground until

 

they come back again

Bright and beautiful.

Nothing keeps them down for long.

 

Upcoming events:

May 4th

Star Wars Day: look for events in your area, follow social media posts and celebrations, or just celebrate the franchise in your own way at home!

May 4th-5th

25th Annual Dandelion Festival at Breitenbach Wine Cellars! I used to take my son to this every year when he was little. There is a dandelion picking contest every year for the little kids, who then turn the blossoms into dandelion jelly. There are vendors and tours of the winery, dandelion wine and jelly for sale, and the big event is the annual Dandelion cookoff!

May 5th

Free Comic Book Day falls on the first Saturday of every May. Participating Comic Book stores around the country give away special edition FCBD comics to the delight long time comic book fans and the enticement of new ones. The special editions are created to be stand alones, so you don’t need to worry about jumping into the middle of an unfamiliar series. Many stores also hold costume contests and giveaways, so don’t miss out!

May 25th

Towel Day is a fan created holiday in honor of Douglas Adams, creator of the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and other series, former Doctor Who writer, and all around hoopy frood. In addition to such activities as learning to fly or drinking (Terran versions of) Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters, fans conspicuously wear towels on this day in order to call attention to the author’s work. The idea is drawn from The Guide itself:

“A towel, [The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy] says, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have. Partly it has great practical value. You can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapors; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a miniraft down the slow heavy River Moth; wet it for use in hand-to-hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (such a mind-boggingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can’t see it, it can’t see you); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough.”

I’m sure there are more obscure holidays this month that I’ve missed, but at least I’ve called your attention to my favorites. Go forth, and May the Fourth be with you…always.

 

*I wrote today’s poem in honor of the Dandelion Festival this weekend.

***image courtesy of http://publicdomainpictures.net/

 

POEM: Young at Heart

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“Young at Heart”

 

The oldest person I have known

had paper pale skin that hung

in sheets off her

frail emaciated frame,

a thin wisp of a woman

with silver white hair

and glasses with lenses so thick

they opaqued with light

or magnified her

round eyes anime large,

the bright blue orbs

of a young pretty girl

trapped in an old woman’s body.

 

She wore flowers in her hair.

 

 

 

If you enjoyed that poem, please come to the Massillon Public Library’s Local Author Fair on Saturday, April 14th from 11am – 2pm where I will be reading, along with other talented local authors.

Thank you for visiting. I hope you enjoyed the poem.

.

*This poem was inspired by the day 9 prompt for National Poetry Month, courtesy of Cuyahoga Library

*image courtesy of http://publicdomainpictures.net/

 

POEM: Thinking in Poetry

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“Thinking in Poetry”

Narrating my day
as I go about the hours,
silently writing in my mind
that the corn on the cob I examine
is yellow with absorbed sunlight,
its golden white kernels
its own clouds and sun,
huge globes plump with the rain
of so many seasons,
and the taste of spring

the drowsy sun fades
behind the black silhouette
of a springtime tree

the air smells of lilac
or honeysuckle or apple blossoms,
the pungent sweetness
of blooming spring flowers

 

 

 

 

*Thank you for visiting. I hope you enjoyed the poem.
*image courtesy of http://publicdomainpictures.net/

POEM: Gathering

2016DadwithHarmonica2015

“Gathering”

 

Sitting by the pool

my father and his friends drink

cheap beer from cold silver cans

I fetch for them from

a white igloo cooler.

My small bare feet make wet sounds

on the pale coral-colored patio,

mini splashes for each tiny puddle

in its pock marked surface.

My mother walks back and forth

between the kitchen and through

the sliding glass doors,

getting chips and dips

and anything else the men require

as they watch the game on TV,

drinking their bicentennial cheer

with a mixture of slow sips

and large cool gulps,

regulating their temperatures

from the warm Florida sun

 

 

 

*written last April for National Poetry Month, in memory of my father.

POEM: Skeletal Remains

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“Skeletal Remains”

 

In visions of the dark night

I have dreamed of joy departed—

But a waking dream of life and light

Hath left me broken-hearted.

 

The sighing wind

gives breath to the darkness,

the stars lighting the ebony sky

like pinpricks of God’s grace

that pierce the blackened heavens

with dazzling white.

Who would dare disturb this quiet, wake those

that haunt deserted paths? Best

seek safety in the North Star, our pilot light

In visions of the dark night.

 

My eyelids close,

lids lowered against

the terrors that make me tremble and seek

solace beneath warm cotton covers.

The witching hour strikes–

a time too late for the faint-hearted

that quake and shake and turn away

from what they–what we–cannot bear to face:

the lonely dead, quiet and disregarded.

I have dreamed of joy departed—

 

What dreams may come

to those that can not face their fears?

Sheltering beneath shut lids

holds no solace for those

whose frightful visions follow them

beyond the veil of sleep: the blight

of a million cares and worries,

the looming spectre of loneliness

a demon–no longer safely tucked out of sight

But a waking dream of life and light.

 

The daytime hours

contain the demons that

haunt my nightly dreams.

I look within myself each dusk

–trapped between the sun’s escape

and the rising mercurial moon,– unguarded

yet I find imprisoned courage.

When shall I be released?

This time–too long before I meet my dear departed–

Hath left me broken-hearted.

 

*glosa of “A Dream”  by Edgar Allan Poe, written for the Day 9 prompt of #ReadWritePoetry courtesy of Cuyahoga Library, in honor of National Poetry Month

 

**image courtesy of BigFoto.com