The Freedom Song of the Jigsaw Girl

The second pride workshop was on spoken word poetry. This poem is one that I feel could be enjoyed both on page and performed, though it probably leans more towards traditional on page format than it does spoken word format.

Merry Go Round

Do you remember?
Hot metal on bare skin
As you first grasped the rail
Running, speed increasing, before jumping on and holding on
The clang and screech of each turn;
A bass line to the song of giggles and laughter
---we spun---
Trees and sky and playground sliding by and by
The dizzy joy of just being
Not thinking of what each turn brings

Do you remember?
Hard landings and skinned knees
Only to jump back up and spin again

Somewhere Somewhen
We are still there
Being kids
Spinning for no reason but joy
Letting go to see if we can fly

Do you remember?

My firm does a newsletter 3 times a year and I have been supplying a poem for said newsletter for a couple of years now. I've used most of the ones I had written that were not too deeply personal or too sad, so I am finding myself having to craft new ones. This isn't a bad thing, sometimes I need the prompt to sit down and write poetry. Our fall newsletter theme is renewal, and I have been inspired by the beauty of changing leaves against fog on my way into work several times this week. So I sat down and wrote this. It's another etheree, as I find that form to be really inspiring and easy to work with and it fits this sort of piece so well.

Autumn Mist

Fog
hushes
the forest,
softens the world.
Leaves glow red, orange, gold--
beacons in the muzzled
grey. Breathe in quiet stillness;
exhale the busy mind's anxious
worries. Enjoy crisp leaves underfoot;
woodsmoke tinted air. Rest brings renewal.

My local library has issued a book spine poetry contest asking patrons to use the titles of books they have in their house to create a poem in honor of National Poetry Month.

This was a fun and interesting challenge, and perhaps a little harder than I expected since there is an extreme lack of verbs in most of my book titles (or if they exist as part of a title then it is harder to work that into a coherent poem). But after looking at my shelves for a bit I was able to come up with something, and here is the result of my endeavors.

Finding Hope in Dark Times

I was happily hit by the desire to write poetry today. This poem is based on a collection of my earliest memories which were all formed at a time when my family was living in Mesa, Arizona in the southwestern United States. The song referenced is "The Moonshiner" a traditional folk song.

Mind the Cactus

Some lessons seem etched
onto my bones
no memory of being told
no memory of learning the hard way
the sharp bite of the spine sinking into skin
but I knew to mind the cactus

Mind the cactus and celebrate the rain
stomp, jump, twirl
bare feet in warm puddles
swing and sway with a cheshire smile
wondering if I can soak up the water
become a cactus, prickly but sweet

Celebrate the rain and respect the storm
dry earth can't soak up water fast enough
doesn't take long, a wild river surges
and you best be well out of reach
watch the swirling currents and know
all things can turn fierce

Respect the storm and love its light show
light arcing from cloud to cloud
dancing through the sky to strike the ground
viewed from the safety of my father's arms
rocking gently on the carport
fierce things are also beautiful

Love the light show and be soothed by music
head tucked against my father's chest
feeling the rumbling bass as he sings
hearing it in my bones
I'm a rambler, I'm a gambler,
I'm a long way from home
these are the lessons etched in my soul

My father has always loved trains, and we frequently lived very near to tracks. So the sounds of trains are usually a familiar sound. This poem could have been written using a number of travel metaphors, but I knew it had to be trains. I have really been struggling with how to capture the complex emotional mess that is hospice waiting.

So I am turning to my common outlet and seeing if writing will help me clarify what I'm feeling or just make me cry (apparently I need a good cry). This is a seriously rough draft.

Waiting on a Train
( poem contains imagery and metaphor dealing with death and loss )

This comes out of late night ruminations of the common saying "words can only hurt you if you let them."






An Ocean
( CW: Allusions of drowning )

After being tasked with managing/updating my employer's twitter account I decided it might be worth creating a personal account as well.

Because I am me, my first tweet was in the form of a poem.

Tweet

succombed to siren's call to sing
of life and beauty distilled
a universe in a burst of song

Cross-posted at poetree. This is my entry for this week's community themed week about remembrance and memorial. I wanted to share this here as well because it is what I spent a lot of time working on last week. Post does not reflect my current mood. I am very happy and enjoying my birthday!

In the northern hemisphere November is a time when the days darken earlier and shadows seem more prevalent. This can make it easier for our personal demons to trouble us. As the holidays approach we often feel our losses more deeply. For many people I know November is a time for remembrance and memorial. Whether it is remembering their dearly departed on All Saints Day/Dios de los Muertos, remembering Veteran's and the cost of war on Armistice/Veteran's Day, or remembering holiday seasons past be they good or bad. For me personally it is a mix of all these things, plus the annual memorial that is my birthday, mixed with the anniversary of a dreadful storm that I witnessed as a child.. Most would not think of birthdays as memorials, but in the sense that it is a day for remembering and contemplating the past I find that birthdays are the ultimate memorial. I felt it fitting that I start our week on remembrance and memorial since today is my birthday.

It is a month that always makes me think of the past and the many uncertain associations that I have with the month. It is also a time for me to reflect on the positive things that have come into my life, and the wonders of friendship and love that I've experienced as I've grown older. I wanted to write a poem that captured this mix of feelings and contemplation. I am going to put the poem under a cut as it may contain some triggering material for folks. For all the darkness and rawness contained in the poem, I did try to end on a lighter more hopeful tone. Also, for those interested the storm referred to was one that hit the Shreveport, LA area on November 15, 1987. It spawned several tornadoes, including the F3 that essentially went right over our heads.

Feedback and constructive criticism is always welcome. I also welcome people to share in the comments what they remember this month.

( So trigger warning: poem contains themes of child abuse, domestic violence, neglect, PTSD, and rather detailed description of a natural disaster and the related shock )

Thought I would collect all of my answers to the 2013 Treak or Treat Haiku fest that jjhunter hosted yesterday.

Prompt: Werewolves

the moon is full and
my feet itch to run and howl
with the pack; sadly

my skin refuses to change
and human I remain

Prompt: Leaf

leave me alone
I will fall in my own time
a leaf on the wind

(also check out the luzula's lovely follow-up to this haiku)

Prompt: Happiness

a tiny kindness
giggles and bubbles breeze by
warm cider and hugs

Prompt: Flowers

memorial blooms
sprigs of love brighten shades of
grief; life blooms in death

Something light hearted.

Bubbles

Breathe soft through soap film
fragile rainbow sphere floats off
oh so fun to pop