Try as I might, I can’t think of a creative way to tell the Poetic Asides prompt each day, so here it is: write a construction poem.
Rebuilding
They strip the asphalt to
expose the wood, and rip the
bales of shingles free. Each nail is
hammered home with the precision of
a surgeon. We are the best, the salesman
said, you won’t need another roof for
twenty years. Later, they sweep the
driveway clean, taking months of
leaves with the glittery
remnants of this old house.
I want to rebuild from the bottom up;
to polish the first promise until it
reflects the moon. I want to tear down
the misplaced words and replace them
with compassion. I don’t need a salesman
to tell me what is right. It’s what’s already gone.
I had no idea how to address today’s Poetic Asides prompt ( a choice to write a love poem or an anti-love poem), so I got weird and decided to play with an alphabet poem. I listed in alphabetical order attributes associated with “anti-love” and wrote a poem with one word per line in alphabetical order. The words are capitalized. (Did I cheat? Only a little – I changed three or four of the original words.)
It’s quite odd- I don’t expect you to enjoy it, although I had a lot of fun writing it.
Alphabet Poem: Love and Anti-Love
Fertilized by Apathy, our bed lies fallow; although
occasional Boredom wets the sheets. We are intimate
with Condescension – a sweet-lipped tart who loves
to claim the room – but Dullness
often joins, draining us with Exacting explanation.
Is this the day we can be Fickle? When we can
forget the Grandiose dreams of buried
Hidden treasures, or is it simply self-
Indulgent to wish that we be free?
Joyless is my heart, and its vessels clotted hard;
Knowledge does not clear its paths.
My Lovelessness loves none, and
true love beats Monotonous:
It asks for Nothing and it begs for everything;
it is Obstinate in that regard. Feed me, true love cries,
and in its Peculiar prissy dance, it lives
Quixotic, ignoring risks and bleeds. I know
its Ragged valves will always fail, and
soon its mistress is Saddened and alone.
But now I am tired of this Tepid rain – I want an
Unforgiving thunderstorm! Bring me back to life, blow
my clots and weeds away – they are Valueless to me!
I now pronounce them Worthless and I pledge (should I be
found alive) to eXtend my heart to you -
it Yields in breathless anticipation – and
that, my love, is our blessing from Złota.*
*Złota – Polish name meaning “golden.” In mythology, Złota Baba (“golden woman”) is the name of a goddess of oracles who grants visions in gold.”
Today’s assignment from Poetic Asides? To write a slippery poem. “The subject can be about something slippery (snake, soap, etc.), or the poem itself can deal with a slippery subject (I’m thinking big concepts like that have words ending in -ism might fit the definition of a slippery subject).”
I started by thinking of slipping out of bed, and then the concept changed. But perhaps the topic is slippery enough. Really, as long as the prompt creates a poem – what does it matter? Or to quote Alfred E. Neuman, “What, me worry?”
Once in the Night
Once in the night, I fell out of you.
I pushed away from your gravity
And rolled up the side of the bed-bowl.
But I miscalculated and landed hard.
A betta fish flares its fins in rage;
It strikes by leaping and suicides by air.
My bowl is pillowed, soft.
It embraces me like quicksand.
I gulp and gasp; I flail my pale tentacles,
But my landing only bruises.
Today’s Poetic Asides prompt is I want you to take the phrase “Should (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make that the title of your poem, and write your poem.
I spent the morning at Austin’s Town Lake and Zilker Park with a friend, walking my wild pup. My friend suggested I write about the walk for today’s poem, and it’s hard for me to resist a challenge. I didn’t follow the rules about the title, but the body of the work follows the prompt.
Let’s Say I Do
Should we be walking with my pup and he runs away,
would you follow him?
Or would you fume and pout leaving me to chase him down?
Let’s say you do and then he and I return,
should I crack a joke to shatter your response?
Let’s say I do but your sky blue eyes develop cataracts -
they freeze instead of thaw -
should I turn and walk away? Or should I tell you straight?
Let’s say I do.
Today’s Poetic Asides prompt (I’m caught up!) is to pick a plant (any plant), make that the title of your poem, and write a poem.
Plant = nature = haiku = of course.
Ivy
ivy windows frame
midnight’s icy moon and stars -
love’s only constant
