November 6th’s Poetic Asides prompt had me struggling.
Robert Lee Brewer asked for a poem with (or about) someone (or something) covered. All I could think about was my large cottonwood tree’s canopy and the phrase “I’ve got it covered.” Then I got it in my head that I wanted to do a poem that used repetition – don’t ask me why.
I’ve Got It Covered uses all three.
I’ve got it covered like the cottonwood covers the house.
Except when the limbs fall off and
my mouth runs dry and
no rain’s forecast.
I’ve got it covered like the faded duvet covers our bed.
Except when my toes are cold with
the thinness that comes from
years on the mend.
I’ve got it covered like my paycheck covers the bills.
Except when my job disappears and
the mortgage is due and
you’re not around.
I’ve got it covered.
Poetic Asides prompt: write a poem about growth. (I am growing in fatigue – does that count? ) I am working on a theme that seems to center on home, family, loss. So bear with me – it may be a heavy month. :-)
No, she says, I’m going alone.
Her voice navigates the grief.
Yesterday, she left a note -
So this is what it’s like to grow up.
I wasn’t there to hold her,
She dropped by and was gone.
The folders in my desk are
Filled with her scribbles
Lined tablets with poems
And apologies and requests
But this is the first good-bye.
Poetic Asides prompt: to take the phrase “Maybe (blank),” replace the (blank) with a word or phrase, and write a poem using that new phrase as your title.
Maybe This Time (courtesy of Cabaret)
I grew up with musicals,
fanciful rhythms and rhymes
that never led to disappointment.
Sure the heroine tripped a lot,
But her liquid eyes always
brought her beau
back to her lingering pouty lips.
Mine stay dry, unfulfilled;
No German cabarets for me,
no graying lover with culinary skills.
I drink the dregs of 50s melodies.
Yesterday’s prompt (Two for Tuesday) was a choice to write a positive poem or a negative poem. I spent all day in an intense strategic planning meeting with my new team (I survived the lay-offs and am now in the “learning about my new job” phase) and the evening at a team-building bowling/Italian dinner event. No time for poeting.
But I woke at 5am – wonder why? So here’s yesterday’s prompt – a very rough draft. Now I’ve gotta go! Another day of strategic planning lies ahead.
Early Wake
In this light-low wake
I cling to the monster’s neck.
We sway, we lumber,
pressing troughs for future
generations.
I spy: dreams, lush grasses,
melting ice. My touch is
lighter than a gnat, my pillow
rougher than its hide.
Hush.
Today’s Poetic Asides prompt is to look at something from a different angle. Since I wrote yesterday about being a leaver, I thought I’d write from the POV of the leavee.
Cursive
Again, he pulls it from the battered suitcase.
It’s not the letters, it’s the meaning, stupid.
He still hears their laughter, winging high and free.
He lays his head against the motel pillow
and waits once more. Perhaps time will relax the words.
Still the figures dance and dive, tumbling, sliding
through the creases of the dimming light.
Just jump, they taunt, you can swim. The bee-hived
teacher’s frown returns as he slips
under the sheets. Sit up, concentrate! Deeper he
slides, deeper, until he is sealed tight and
turtle-tucked. Do it right, boy. Just once, do it right.
