Ten years

The soft whoosh of planes

Usually unnoticed

All I hear today

 

//

Poetry prevails

Haiku, my constant

When writer’s block bedevils

You provide solace

Not abracadabra

Sometimes I think that

If I can find the right words

I can do magic

Saturday sighing

They say good things come

To those who wait, but I’d like

The specifics, please

 

Exhaustion is your

Words constantly being met

With indifference

 

 

 

 

Hello?

Outside looking in

I try to knock

But go unheard

Deja vu all snow-ver again

http://leastlikelytoblog.wordpress.com/2009/03/02/snow-day/

(The only difference is that this year, I’m not on vacation ’til next week.)

What’s that? Reruns are boring? Yeah. You’re right. Okay. Here’s a mini-poem:

 

Mother Nature, Mother Nature, why do you tease us so?

Last week a robin red-breast

Today a foot of snow!

Appropriately, post #100 is a poem

I miss short-sleeved shirts

I’m running out of sweaters

March 20th— come!

Tedium, thy name is (company name deleted)

I write this as I lie

Waiting for the cable guy

“He’ll be there ‘tween 12 and 4.”

Yet no footsteps have neared my door

I’ve bided my time with many a glare

And countless games of Solitaire

I got a call at 4:05

He’s running late, they apologized

His arrival should be within the half hour

The rep’s seeming sincerity made my mood a bit less sour

The phone rings again; he’s here at last!

While writing this post, the minutes have passed

So here’s a suggestion: to pass the time

Let out your frustration in a rhyme! 

 

 

Freezin’s greetings

This is just to let you know

That on Monday, there will be no ode

To winter (as there was to fall before)

Because the cold I do abhor!

 

Holiday haiku

No turkey for me

But pass the carrot bread, please.

Happy Thanksgiving!

 

Rhetorical poem 2

If I keep saying

“It’s your loss” often enough

Might I believe it?

A limerick, because I’m sick

Colds suck*

But it could be worse

And that’s the point**

Of this silly verse 

 

* Probably the worst word you’ll ever #$%^ing see here.  ;)

** Also, I hadn’t written in a while.

My walk home

The sky grows ever darker

The remaining wisps of daylight

Obscured by ancient trees

The soft chirping of insects

Provides ample company

My ride home

I stare out the window of the bus

At sunset’s painterly streaks

Of purple and pink

I shiver

Not at the majesty of nature

But at the blasted, blasting air conditioner

On despite the fall chill

Attention: this is not a haiku

I never did wax poetic about spring (either literally or figuratively), did I? Well, I won’t let the same fate befall my second-favorite season:

 

The leaves have begun their downward dance

Forming mosaics on the ground

While upward

Float memories:

Of a recipe for cranberry muffins

And a rare New York hurricane

Haiku 5: Ode to sleep

I curl up beneath

My warm, soft quilt of patches

Strange dreams fill my head

Haiku 4

I always forget

And become bewitched by words

Actions are louder

…and 3

A scent on the breeze

Sparks a distant memory

Wondrous is the mind

Haiku 2

September’s chilled air

And its soft, early shadows

Hint at mysteries

Rhetorical poem

Was it time

That passed me by

Or was it I

That passed it?

Table manners

I am not

Disposable

A paper napkin

To be used

And casually tossed aside

I am smart

And funny and kind

I am cloth

 

 

 

 

 

Turn-back-the-clock Thursday

A few weeks ago, as I do occasionally, I was looking through a school memory book. It’s full of tests, report cards, drawings, and other assorted things (among them, a literal LOL-inducing letter to then-President Reagan), including a few poems, and since it’s been so poetry-centric around here lately (ahem, when I’ve posted), I thought it would be cute (and hopefully not self-indulgent) to post one of my ‘early works.’ It’s from June 2, 1988; I was just about to turn 8 1/2:

Wendy

Funny, creative, smart

Writing, drawing, walking

Shy

 

 

 

Return to rhyming

Every day

I feel sure

I can do more than I did

The day before

 

And then I wake

And then I find

Nothing has changed

But my mind

Haiku

Outside my window

The birds chirp furiously

What are they saying?

Deluged

Stress flows through me like

Water did the ceilings

But who will clean

Me up?

The bus stop

Alone, cold

All others have found their way

I see it now

Stand, to be noticed

But remain unseen

And left once more to wait

A wonderful town

Onto the car he steps, red cart in tow

He performs sleight-of-hand

Wide-eyed, we regard

The dove’s fluttering wings

The rabbit’s wiggling nose

Only in New York

Sorry, all the creativity I currently have went into the poem. You’ll have to settle for this as a title. ;)

One day

The words will explode

Like fireworks from my mouth

Crackling, vivid

Against the formerly silent sky

The proliferation of poetry proceeds

I shiver in the late-April cold

The mist tickles my nose

Strokes my forehead

Dots my ears

 

Home now

I sit in the dark

Listening to the rain pat the windows

And smile

I can too write non-rhyming poems!

The shadows whisper

Swirl and dance

Enveloping me in their hushed glow

Time for another installment of “Insomniac Poetry Theater”

The light encroaches

The birds fairly shout

But I have yet

To conk out!

(Previous early-morning verse can be read here and here.)

Almost April already

It’s a cliche

To say

But time flies

Flies

Away

And when I can’t sleep/I often mentally compose/Sometimes poetry/Sometimes prose

“Ah!” said she

As she arose

Reflecting on the simple pleasure

Of breathing through one’s nose

 

(See previous post for explanation.)