NaPoWriMo Day 8: Sky

Sky

I wrapped your clothes in sky

Sewed them with cloud

Mended their holes with

Thunder.

I wrapped your eyes in sky

Covered them with atmosphere

So you would only see your favorite

Color.

I wrapped your neck in sky

To hide the bruise and then

I fashioned a cloud necklace

Around you.

I cleaned your body in sky

Wrung the clouds like wet cloths,

Sponged off your old sorrow

Rinsed your creased brow

I tugged down the last of the sky

Brought it down around you

I wrapped your body in sky

Tucked it close to your skin

It made you so light that

The wind gathered you up

and you slipped out of my hands

and now you’re gone.

Gone.

Day 7 of NaPoWriMo: The Penny

The Penny

The penny was hers;

She dropped it here

In the gutter,

Next to the alleyway

Full of vomit, rust,

And wet cardboard;

This place where

even the bricks of the buildings

are worn and sad,

where she walked

In her laceless sneakers 

And tattered coat,

Pushing her shopping cart

Filled with black plastic bags.

She dropped her penny;

She did it on purpose

So I would find her story

Written on Lincoln's visage, 

So I could read her regrets

On the smudge

her thumb left behind,

So I could translate

Her dirt and grit

As if it were a language

Of smells, mumblings, and rhythm;

Convert it into a form

Where people would

Stop.

Listen.

Try to

Try to

Try to  

understand.

Day 6 of NaPoWriMo: The Cascade Mountains

Variations on a theme....

The Cascade Mountains

1.

You reflect the sunlight with your miles of snow, illuminating the valleys, rivers and hills.

2.

You are a silver halo under the moon; you used to be the earth's outer rings, but gravity dropped you to your knees.

3.

Your peaks like wings flutter into the great expanse of sky. You are the silent dove perched on the continental divide.

4.

Your silhouette is a sharp knife that cuts the night like fabric to reveal the morning.

5.

Your glaciers move like slow rivers, milky cold; the salmon greet you, their mouths open and close, open and close.

6.

You made the valley of the snow melt river, gave these cliffs waterfalls, these salmon water, these rivers momentum.

7.

The sun rises behind you like hot metal and blanches your body warm and red.

8.

I look East from the bridge and see you covered in a white sheet, wrapped tight across your face

9.

I can barely see you from the bridge now, the rain masks your image, blurs your sharp edges into curves.

10.

You are my most frequent dream. Your peaks like spindles sharp enough to draw my blood. Your snow melt runs in my blood.

11.
I look to the West to find you, but you are 3,000 miles away. I look atop hills and skyscrapers, but I cannot find you in the distance.

12.
I dream, you dream. I see you with my eyes closed; I can feel your weight pushing me, pushing me, pushing me home.

Day 5 of NaPoWriMo: Mary Oliver

I've always been an admirer of Mary Oliver...My nature poem...

Mesa

I heard red without seeing it,

directed my ear to the curve

of the cliff face as the sunrise

opened itself on its surface.

I heard it like a swarm of

honey bees in summer

as the night’s frost broke

into a cold pale dew.

Day 4 of NaPoWriMo: Enigma Poem

Day 4 of National Poetry Month: Write a poem about something without mentioning what it is.

Enigma: Guess what it is...

You can smell it like a storm coming,

can feel its electrons charge in your lungs;

dense and heavy like breathing steam.

And then you see it edge the horizon

like a dark mirage against the desert strata.

A man-made layer of sediment;

barbed wire and tall chain link.

Someone took a black marker

and drew with a zealot’s ink

a new definition of dreams deferred.

But your body is covered in sweat and desert;

you move like layers of sand, over and under.

You come out on the other side,

reborn, with your heart on fire.

Day 2 of NaPoWriMo: Recipe for Revenge

Day 2 of NaPoWriMo....recipe poem


Recipe for Revenge

Spit your spit

Into the pot

Just one spit

Back of your throat

Kind of spit

Greenest phlegm

Your head back

Like a stork

Swallowing

A whole fish

Your chest and arms

Your body shutters

To spit your spit

Your greenest innards

Into the pot

Then stir

Stir

And stir

Add the beef broth

All other ingredients

Ladle it into a bowl

And serve

To your boss

Day one of NaPoWriMo: Friction

Day one for NaPoWriMo.....A Kay Ryan-esque poem


Friction

wind

moves

against

the lake

makes ripples

with friction.

friction twists 

your hair into

impossible

knots

into nests

for birds.

friction

makes your

hair

like time

past

present

future

all

connected.