As my friend and co-creator, I hope you'll comment on these fledgling poems. They hatch out daily on Twitter @everydaypoet and migrate here.



Saturday, October 23, 2010

Love of What Is

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101021

LIFE’S A BREACH

Breakthrough
can be double win:
breakthrough out,
breakthrough in.


101020

CATERED TO

Ah, here comes the morning;
something brings the sun.

Someone brings me coffee;
blessings on that one.


101019

WELL SERVED

Not only am I blessed,
but able to tell
how blessed I am:
Alive and well.


101018

LUNCHBOX PARADOX

Self, must I send you back to school?
A sweet is not a healthy treat.
And don’t forget Prime Diet Rule:
The more you eat, the more you eat.


101017

CAELUM IN TERRA (for Fay Jean)

One joy
(so long longed-for)
life graciously sends…
one long conversation
with one long-time friend.


101016

WEEKEND, WITH FRIEND

Nothing is an effort;
all is light and grace.
In our time together,
things just fall in place.


101015

CONSTANCY

Over and over
life answers its own quiz,
sometimes with fizzle,
sometimes with fizz—
always conveying
love of what is.


AL FRESCO (for Fay Jean)

Sundown
on the terrace—
a spectacular view,
wine, food, conversation…
all of this, and you.


101014

TROWELING IT ON

My work grows ever more concise
as my time grows shorter.
Once I placed a brick a day;
now, little more than mortar.


101013

NOS IAM VICTORES

We
who are about to die
salute ourselves.


101012

ADS SUBTRACT

I rarely mention politics,
not because it’s fiddlesticks,
sleight-of-hand, or lies-and tricks;
campaign ads just leave me blitzed.


101011

TIME, WELL, SPENT

There always seems
so much to do—
so forgotten
once I’m through.


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Sunday, October 10, 2010

Jo'z Julz

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101010

DERE FRENDZ

I ain't twitterd in a wile,
nor writ no poem neether.
Ever now an then (like you)
I jest needz a breether.


101009

RESCUE?

A tablespoon of mouse—
that’s how big it was,
and not yet torn or injured
by tomcat teeth or claws.

I thought it wouldn’t last a day.
It refused to eat,
making every force-feed ploy
a sadly futile feat.

This is the third evening.
Still, mousey lingers on
while Something
toys with each of us
and moves each as its pawn.


101008

eBAY

No “try” applies
when I buy—
but how the hell
shall I sell?


101007

PLAY-PRETTIES

Suddenly,
I’m a fool for jewels
and all awhirl
for mother-of-pearl.


101006

SHOPPING TRIPPED

A blouse in need of buttons,
that’s how it began—
an excursion to a thrift store
to look, to search, to scan;
earrings and a necklace,
purchases unplanned.
Somehow, crafting jewelry
became my heart’s demand.


101005

EXTENDED VACATION

Suit yourself. I don’t care.
I’m in the land of laissez-faire
I went to visit; I’m still there.

Under my skin? In my hair?
Not one bit. No, I swear.
Suit yourself. I don’t care.


101004

EVERYDAY POETRY

My rule is—
write a poem on the day,
about the day,
or about a thing
that’s everyday...
so it’s okay,
more than perhaps,
to play my way:
to later fill in gaps.

ASIDE: …especially since it can be so hard
and time-consuming to write a poem at all.
Make-up poems can be even more difficult.


101003

TREES THAT PLEASE

Orange-gold
beneath bold blue—
October oaks,
we’ve pined for you.


101002

“DREAM” CHALLENGE

Muse, dear muse,
I dream of you—
even when
instructed to.


101001

HIGH AND DEEP

Each year brings us lows and highs
(greeted, both, by deep-breathed sighs)
and few highs are more highly prized
than deeply blue October skies.


100930

NACRE

naked beauty

iridescent
opalescent

beauty named
an ugly name


100929

GLORY US!

Glory at night.
Glory at morn.
Glory—all glory!—
that we were born.


100928

DAFT FOR CRAFT

Muse,
I make confession.

Out of the blue
(if not from you),
I have a new obsession.


100927

ERRATIC

yesternight:
a restless night

a restless night
again tonight

a restful night
would set this right

so wistful for
a restful night


100926

STUMPED

I wish...
I want...
I might like…
I would choose to…
I could make a difference by…
My ideal life would be like…
I wish.
I want.
I do?


100925

THE ONE EXCEPTION

I’d rather pet a cat
than write a poem;
I’d rather cook a meal
than write a poem;
I’d rather go shopping
or visit a friend
or read a book
or watch buzzards fly
than write a poem—
except, that is, when
I’m writing a poem.


100924

BEACHED

Lately,
the ebb and flow
of the ebb and flow
seems to ebb and flow
just fine without me.


100923

EVEN THE PAST EVOLVES

Was it this way—or that?
What didn’t I know—then or later?
What do I not know now?

The story of my life
changes with each telling.

Now, even when I try to tell it true,
I have to keep my fingers crossed.


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