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Ingratitudo

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We prayed
(falling on knees,
beating chests)
for water.

We cried
as Sun
scorched earth
and
siphoned dams.

We begged
when taps
ran dry.

RAIN!
Send RAIN!

Then
in subsequent torrents,
we cursed clouds
and
shook fists at dirty skies
for
too
much
rain.

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Kim suggests writing a Quadrille (44 word poem) at dVerse today using the word “rain.”

We are still on water rationing, but heavy rainfall over a two day period last week caused major flooding.

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who were you?

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who were you,
little
eight years young?

rich brown eyes
(which moments ago
drew in the world)
stare empty at the sky.

lithe limbs
(zealous in dance)
lie
outlined
by the black tarmac
at odd angles to one another
in perfect stillness.

you had a name.
you had a voice.
you had dreams.

but
you are early gone

and we’ll
never
know
you.

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glopo2018button
28 April
I continue to post pieces scribbled on bits of paper from days ago.
I can’t seem (despite continued efforts at editing) to shape this poem into what my heart is feeling.
There is a profound sense of loss, even though I did not know this little one.
Promise and potential taken away too soon.
One moment here. The next, gone.
Ripped from the fabric of now.

expectations

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i want

to be out
from under
this bus
of expectations.

not sure when it ran over me
but i am tired now
of having it
on my back.

 

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glopo2018button
27 April
Wrote this thinking it was the beginning of something.
It has been sitting for days . . . but nothing more has come,
so it must be complete?

Warning Label

2 Comments

biohazard2
CAUTION:   CONTAINS JOCULARITY

Avoid if solemn or earnest in nature.
Irritating to those with sensitive natures.
May cause annoyance in the pertinacious.
Repeated or prolonged exposure increases risk.
In extreme cases, induce vomiting immediately.
Wash your hands of hazard.

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glopo2018button
25 April
NaPoWriMo Challenge:  Write a poem that takes the form of a warning label . . . for yourself!

Lady of Light

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Indomitable,
no one ever thought to cross her.
Our stalwart masthead
behind whom we took refuge.
Murmurs of dissent
were never pronounced
in her presence,
but we knew
she knew
our opinions.

We thought her too stubborn
even for Death, and
though beaten back
on more than one occasion,
he eventually proved
the better determined.

She left a vacancy in her passing
that cannot be filled
(though we have caught
fleeting glimpses of her
in her great grandchildren . . .
apples and trees and such).
Regularly we stumble
over odd reclaimed memories,
blink away tears
and sigh.

She was singularly human.
And we miss her.

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glopo2018button
24 April
NaPoWriMo Challenge:  Write an elegy – a poem typically written in honor or memory of someone dead.

SpiderLady

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i,
who well know your heart,
chuckled
when she
proceeded to explain
the hows and whys and wherefores
of your behaviour.

with admirable
first semester
one-oh-one
psych-analysis
she wrapped you up,
labeled you
and shelved you
with profound speed and precision.

dusting her hands
on her denim apron,
she
self-satisyingly
cast her eyes about
for her next victim.

when she had her back turned
i pirated you away.
we’ll return next week
for another round
of coffee and chinwags.

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For Day 22 of NaPoWriMo.
I had difficulty getting to the internet and the prompts, so I “went my own way.”

Tales of a Housesitter

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Too many marks
you have left behind.
Saturn’s rings on table tops
break the long, lovely lines of pine.
Scorched earth
(where once jolly giant green grass grew)
created patches of open wounds,
black and lifeless.
And that deep scarlet stain
screaming from the bottom
of the once pure white enamel tub.
No matter how hard I try
I cannot remove it
nor fathom what made it.
What?
Will these reminders never be gone?
The earl of Ramsgate had a mate.
Vincent,
where did you go?

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For Day 22 of NaPoWriMo.
I had difficulty getting to the internet and the prompts, so I “went my own way.”

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