Confetti

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100515

WRITER
WORKSHOP

Rain
stops
(now and then)
its patter;
birds,
their chirping;
writers, too,
their chirping pens.


ROLE WITH
THE PUNCHES

I am the writer,
the recorder,
the observer.
Clout? I doubt.

She—let it be—
is the teacher.


PEONIES (for Carrie)

Why peonies?

Why today
white ruffled peonies—

in her email,

in our remembrances
of kleenex flowers
on bobbie-pin stems,

in those two faded flowers on display
at that bookstore counter,

in the first poem encountered now
in Mary Oliver’s book?


[ASIDE: Inspired by a Twitter comment.]


BACK-TO-BARK

Every day is an experiment:
a reaching out
to whatever is reaching back.

This day’s experiment:
place my back to the bark of a tree,
spine to spine,
as close as we can get
and be.


MEDIUM, MESSAGE

Paper is a pleasure
to brush against,
to stroke,
to rub between fingers
until it pop-pop-pops.


CONFETTI

the look of wonder
on an eighty-year-old face

my fat pen
in use again

when it’s given right, let it be

that black line of cloud,
so un-menacing
in retreat


[ASIDE: Leftover bits from writing exercises]


100514

LEARN ME

sights and wonders
places to go

tell me
teach me
take me—
share and show

take me
tell me
teach me—
I so want to know


100513

SCAREDY

I love it
(find it quite exciting)
when lightning blast
and thunder crash
put every cat in hiding.


100512

TRANSIENTS

Thoughts—
catch, then hold them?
No net is that fine.

Thoughts are not me—
are not even mine.


100511

HOW THESE THINGS WORK

It wasn’t even a job offer,
just a statement of pay parameters
and notice of further applicant scrutiny.

I was the applicant.

The pay was low, the commute
and hours long, and the work—well,
unenchanting to someone else
I knew, who knew.

I’d been spoiled.
Two months earlier, I had interviewed
with the company for the job—
the one I really wanted.
But nothing had come of that.

I contrasted the two scenarios to my husband,
a multi-tasker who continued browsing the web,
scanning emails, and checking phone messages
as I spoke. Then he turned to me with a smirk.

“What?” I asked, irritated.

“You need to know how these thing work,”
he coached, handing me the phone.
“Call for you. It’s the company.”


THE MAGICAL KINGDOM

Serendipity.
Wish fulfillment.
Placebos.
Self-fulfilling prophecies.
Superstitions.
Delusions of power.

Beware of magical thinking,
children, artists, and
dreamers are cautioned.

But think about it:
isn’t all thinking magical?


OPTIONAL

Take
an ordinary
sentence;
break it into bits;
run it
down the page
and, voilà!
a poem
(title optional).


100510

SUN STROKE OF LUCK

After an afternoon sunbath,
I moved to a set of worn
west-facing wooden steps and
continued warming myself there.

Close by,
yellow-headed
dandelions bloomed

The nearest caught my attention.
While I stared, completely absorbed,
background greenery
went glittery, then monochrome
(black, white, silver, gray)
as the blossom intensified
its yellow—like a radiant sun
against a lucent nighttime sky.

How did I chance
to witness that?


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