Halcyon days are
Always past, because we can’t
Predict the future.
National Poetry Month 2019, day 24: assignment was to open a reference book and use whatever you found on those two pages. Not finding an actual thesaurus, encyclopedia, or dictionary today meant I used the Merriam-Webster “word of the day” from their website instead, “Halcyon,” and put in haiku form just for fun. Today’s poem title comes from the electronic group Orbital.
We were cat people once.
I remember Lucy mostly through family
Pictures of her on a blanket, baby me beside
Her on the bare carpet looking confused.
Feline entitlement and arrogance captured
In a single fading Polaroid.
A trip to New Jersey for the annual
Pilgrimage to grandma’s only
This time we took Lucy.
Giant Tide box for a car carrier with holes cut
For breathing, which she did mostly
In long, agonized yowls of disapproval
For twelve straight hours, my father
Teeth grinding, jaw clenched as he drove
Without stopping for anything
He didn’t have to.
Was it that she could not see the sights
As we drove the endless interstate?
Or did she require more posh digs for such
A journey as this massively mistaken mission?
The last I saw of Lucy was her final destination
with the lady up the street from my grandmother
among a couple dozen other cats
looking as satisfied as she was.
National Poetry Writing Month 2019, Day 23: prompt was to write about an animal. In this case, a family cat from my very early childhood. Today’s title borrowed from the classic by Al Stewart.
Fired and glazed, relics of a childhood
Filled with music lessons, sports practices, art lessons
In the hope that something would take hold.
Feeble attempts at pottery
That remain in use as change jar, key holder,
Dust gatherers on a shelf.
Imperfect as the hands that made them
Durable, yet fragile
Survivors of change
Were they aware when created
That they would endure decades?
National Poetry Writing Month 2019, Day 22: write a poem that engages with another art form. anything that uses the poem to express something about another form of art. Today’s title borrowed from the legendary songwriter Blaze Foley.
Dragon breathing fire in the sky, rabbit screaming in the moon
unicorns are real, though they taste of dirt and mist
Galloping through as if with a gilded chariot
Careening out of control in a heavenly Hippodrome
Battles are fought bravely, then won or lost in the fickle, cowardly winds
That push one precariously around the sharp leading edge,
a cliffside drop down a sheer, slick, cold rock face.
Turbulent nightmare or waking dream?
National Poetry Month 2019, Day 21. Use wild, surreal imagery that engages the senses and uses dream logic. Check, check, and check? Title borrowed from the 1985 hit by Kate Bush.
“Those people need to go back home”
Those people have no safe home to return to.
“Those people are taking our jobs”
Those people work harder than you do for less than you get.
“Those people don’t contribute to society”
Those people have the same taxes you complain about levied on them.
“Those people are dangerous criminals and gang members”
Those people commit crimes at lower rates than you do.
“Those people aren’t from around here”
Those people came from somewhere else just like your family did.
“Those people…”
Yes, those people.
National Poetry Writing Month 2019, day 20. Prompt was to use language as it is spoken. Title borrowed from the prog-rock classic by Yes.
A breath can determine everything;
Faith, gullibility, hope.
Innocent justice kills.
learned music never
Overtly plays quite right
So tell us, verily, with
Xylophone, yuequin, zither.
National Poetry Writing Month 2019, day 19. Prompt was to write an abecedarian poem, which strictly means 26 words using the letters of the alphabet as the starting letters of each word, in order. No idea what this one means, but it’s a fun challenge. Title today is borrowed from the Jackson 5 classic.
Sweep up leaves, blown in by the wind
That brings change in the weather, rain and pollen.
Sweep up by the hundreds, remnants of cigarettes
smoked for a reason that’s forgotten by now.
Sweep up cans, the bottles, the cups
half-filled with liquids, thirst finally quenched.
Sweep up packaging from products just purchased
or stolen, perhaps a more likely scenario.
Sweep up sticky condoms, the empty whiskey bottles, the used needles
That tell stories of illicit desire in plain sight.
Sweep up paper receipts by the dozen,
records of wants and needs fulfilled, one purchase at a time.
National Poetry Writing Month, Day 16: write a poem that uses the form of a list to defamiliarize the mundane. Today’s title comes from the best known line in the chorus of Joni Mitchell’s song “Big Yellow Taxi”
What songs do you want played at your funeral?” she asks.
Such a random question, or is it?
Death is coming for me at some point, so it might as well have a good soundtrack.
“Amazing Grace,” but performed New Orleans second line funeral parade style.
“Wondrous Love” sung shape-note style like those old Sacred Harp records.
“Angel Band” in true Ralph Stanley mountain soul tradition.
I was a disc jockey for years, so picking songs for after I’m dead seems appropriate
like a last set list before I sign off the air from my final shift.
I’d have to add Karla Bonoff’s version of “The Water Is Wide,” that’s my favorite one.
If there’s still time, a quiet acoustic take of “If I Should Fall Behind” could be done,
as a token of both my appreciation of Bruce Springsteen and my love for my wife.
Hopefully the congregation won’t feel the need to change the station
before the final note fades away.
National Poetry Writing Month 2019: Today’s prompt was to write a dramatic monologue in the voice of a character or person. This one was sparked by the opening question, actually asked of me today and I didn’t have a quick answer (so this is the long answer, in writing, instead.). The title today is borrowed from Elton John.
Right the ship using the right words
The place they land will place us firmly
in the sand as we sand the edges down
and dull the impact until it is so dull
and round the crows round up their murder
but for all they cant, they can’t scavenge what’s left.
National Poetry Month 2019, day 14: prompt was to use homophones, homographs, or homonymns or some other quirk of the English language and spelling. I already used homophones in an earlier piece this month, so this time around I chose homonyms–they sound the same and are spelled the same but have different meanings. I cheated a bit on the pair in the last line, but I added a bonus bit of opposition in the first and last words of today’s entry, so I’ll call it even. Today’s title is borrowed from World Party’s “Ship of Fools.”
If you stop your car on the tracks
that cross over Old State Road
Don’t be surprised if it moves itself.
A school bus stalled there once,
it couldn’t start again in time
To escape the train.
I don’t remember how many kids died
but it was enough
that some of them never really left.
Those kids are strong
So strong they leave handprints on your bumper
where they push your car
to avoid it suffering the same fate.
National Poetry Writing Month 2019: Today’s prompt for day 13 was to write about something mysterious or spooky; I chose the classic South Carolina ghost story of West Columbia’s Old State Road. A bus accident happened there in the 1970’s, and if you leave your car in neutral on the tracks, the ghosts of the children killed there will push it off. Today’s borrowed song for the poem title is the 60’s hit from Classics IV, “Spooky.”
Kevin Oliver Poetry 