Category: Poetry

A Crazy Villanelle

Today’s poem is a villanelle, in which the first and third lines of the first stanza are repeated throughout. It is inspired by the word crazy and I think the poem’s form enhances that idea a little bit.

A note: despite me playing here, I do not think mental illness is a joke. It is real and serious. I suffer from depression and social anxiety myself, and I know others who do as well. Let’s all help one another and do our best to understand the invisible illnesses. Thank you.

Today is a great day for crazy!
Once in a while, I need a break.
My mind just seems to be a bit hazy.

This morning I picked a yellow daisy,
put it in the dough, baked a chocolate cake-
today is a great day for crazy!

Got a little dirty, danced like Swayze-
No music? Guess the band’s a flake?
My mind just seems to be a bit hazy.

Look, I lay around, but I’m not lazy-
Waiter! Need a drink and a rare steak!
Today is a great day for crazy!

I’ve had all the tests from “A” to “Z”,
maybe my doc is the big fat fake?
My mind just seems to be a bit hazy.

Anyway, can’t keep dropping rhymes like JayZ,
perhaps I’ll go jump in the lake.
Today is a great day for crazy,
my mind just seems to be a bit hazy.

Ethereal

Today’s word is ethereal. Inspired by two film quotes: “catch a cloud and pin it down” and “a thing isn’t beautiful because it lasts”. Enjoy.

Can’t catch a beam of light
Anymore than rainbows will be trapped.
Clouds always evade grasping;
Air once breathed in is out again.
It’s all so
ethereal.
That’s what makes it
beautiful.

A thing isn’t valuable set on shelves
and dusted dusted dusted.
Value is like laughter
Set loose on the world and enjoyed.
Smile, and laugh, and breathe-
Soak up the world!
Today won’t be here long,
In fact, it’s already half-past.

Petrichor

Today’s word is petrichor, and it is one of my favorite smells: that of a fresh earth after the rain. Enjoy.

Looking out my window, I see:
a tree shakes in the building breeze;
a bluebird sings in exuberance;
a squirrel jumps from branch to branch.

Above, the sky begins to darken:
rain is gathering in the clouds.
I think I should have cut the grass,
it might be too long, now too late.

When the water falls, I’ll watch
as it beats against the panes
washing all clean, leaving in its wake
a fresh petrichor, and world renewed.

This is my favorite experience of spring:
the growth, and frequent baptisms;
the green, and sudden blooms.
I can’t wait for the afternoon’s showers!

Steadfast

Today’s poem is based on the word steadfast. I could only think of one thing to write about. Enjoy!

It’s Frodo marching towards Doom;
It’s Sam lifting him up.
Mordor with poisonous fumes,
Ash, mist, smoke and terror.

They could have turned back,
They could have saved themselves.
The Mountain of Flame would have conquered all,
Ash, mist, smoke and terror.

And yet, Frodo wouldn’t stop,
And yet, Sam wouldn’t leave,
Though Gorgoroth stretched on
Ash, mist, smoke and terror.

At last, when Baggins won the day,
At last, when Gamgee showed his worth-
Small hearts, stalwart, steadfast and true-
Ash, mist, smoke and terror…

….could no longer hold sway
O’re the Cracks of Doom
And Orodruin crumbled to dust!
Love, loyalty, courage and peace!

Frodo the Valiant, Samwise the Brave,
Both stood unconquerable and free.
Middle-Earth was saved-
Love, loyalty, courage and peace!

Upon A Cloud

Today’s poem from quarantine is suggested by the word pondering. Next in a series of poems suggested by words gathered from my friends and family.

“Upon A Cloud”

Lumbering. Perhaps: Burdensome.
That’s what it feels like right now.
It should be light, I guess. Even: whimsical,
made for summer days:
sweet breezes and birds chirping.
But this feels as delicate as…
…as the thunder of elephants.
Perhaps that comes from the word itself:
PONDERING. Sounds like PONDEROUS.
Maybe I’m letting too much me in.
I need to breathe out, let the spring wind
cleanse the baffles, excise the PONDERATION
like so much exhalation.

That’s better.

What? That cloud there?

Looks like an elephant to me.

Ponder too long and now it’s a dog.

Oh? Me?

I’m just pondering the nature of a cloud
and letting all else be.

Extremes

Today I also wrote two poems. These showcase the mental extremes I have been bouncing between since this pandemic isolation occurred. The first poem is based on the word antediluvian

“Antediluvian”

“Apres moi, le deluge!”
I shout, in abject narcissism.
Nay, I am less important
But I fear, nonetheless, a flood
Mounting, rising, looming westward,
Desperate to snuff my idealistic world,
This antediluvian paradise in which I breathe.
Oh! That it would not crash
And like some far-off tsunami
Wash away my humble home under-hill.
But may it pass me by
And like some vanquished kaiju
Slink off into nothingness unspent.
This my supplication, sent from knee to heaven.
May some o’ershadowing Eru hear
And grant to me the mercy of ages.
Still stand I on sand-swept shores
Awaiting Morgoth’s doom,
Which seems must fall.

And then, based on the word lasagna

“A Snack”

Garfield?!
Where is that darn cat?
I have but recently sat
A great baked pasta that
When eaten will show what
Great culinary legerdemain (caveat:
Perhaps I cook not so well. A feat-)
Hark! What orange-d fur streaks past!
Garfield!!
That twice-darned cat!!
He scarfed my lasagna! Drat!

I do hope you enjoy.

Poetic Two-Step

I am writing poems, in this viral seclusion we all face, that are based on words given to me by friends and family on the facebook. I forgot to post yesterday, and for that I apologize. I wrote two poems then and here they are.

First up, a poem based on the word lachrymal

“Lachrymal”

Do not fear to cry
In uncertain times.

Unleashing the dam
Often provides a cleaning
Like you’ve seldom felt.

In fact: Gandalf said tears are good,
A briny catharsis for the soul.

I think, then, that lachrymal therapy
Is prescribed.

And a double haiku, based on tiger

“Tiger”

Orangeblack stripes gleam,
Tiger sees no cage-no bars:
Free beneath bright stars.

If you, in contrast,
Feel trammeled inside today:
Embrace the tiger!

I hope you enjoy.

The Stillness

I have embarked on a new writing project. I asked friends on facebook to submit single words. I am writing a poem every day based on those words. It is a way for me to pass the time and stay busy during this social isolation of the pandemic.

I offer now the first of these poems, based on the word stillness.

(it comes before)

Brain
Electrically firing thoughts
Heart
Anxiously quivering blood
Soul
Painfully breathing oxygen

(it lingers after)

Leaves
Rustling against wind
Pup
Sighing in sleep
Tail
Twitching behind squirrel

(offering its peace)

Check back tomorrow for a new poem. Thanks!

Covid-19

We are great ones for rushing
where angels fear to tread.
Although now I suppose
they are afraid to infect heaven
with our earthly woes.
Which is why Abram still awaits
his three messengers.
Even in the desert, disease spreads
like so many locusts on the breeze.

I keep hearing about distancing:
one meter, or three feet,
to avoid being walking vectors;
you know, to flatten the curve?
Since when did the news
sound like geometry class?
Ironically, school is out for spring
and possibly summer, too.
All the kid’s dreams are the nightmare.

I read the news, and read my friend’s
faces for hope. All I hear is fear.
My own is so loud it’s a wonder
I can even make out that of a planet
crying for alleviation.
We are all in the same galactic boat,
sailing on black waters.
So, stay in your bunk, and I’ll sway in mine.
Together we’ll arrive at journey’s end.

Look: many have passed into what awaits.
Many more will, too, before this ends.
We never were guaranteed the next sunrise.
It may this that sends us away.
It may be another 70 years before that great
migration of soul and spirit, that grim bus
careening through metaphysical streets reaping.
Continue to look both ways before street crossing.
Lather, rinse, repeat until it’s your time to say goodbye.

So, bring this home…
…which is where we all are anyway.
Where’s the hope, the good news,
the twinkle in the eye to show the mirth?
Is it clear skies and nature’s rebirth,
a global spring in the step
of them what survive?
Maybe. I rather think it’s the small
acts of service and love that will save us all.