Barbara's Meanderings: My Poetry

Seems impossible to believe, but somehow I missed posting my poems here for three years!!!

I am remedying this immediately and posting my poems for April, 2015 here for any to see.

I would love your comments on all or any of them. As always they were done to prompts from Poetic Asides. Thank you.

April Poem A Day for 2015

Day 1

Prompt: Write a resistance poem

Resistance to You

In a deep hole of sorrow I met you

Timid at first I dared not show

my true feelings for fear your

intentions were not as mine

and I held back protecting

my scarred and broken heart

Against your onslaught

of soft and encouraging words

I tried to build a wall to keep

them out

but your words slipped through

as warm and inviting as a spring

breeze sweeping into my damaged

and tattered heart and healing

it with a force powerful

and tender as the touch of

a lover’s skin.

Day 2:

Prompt: Write a poem about a secret

My Secret

Inside of me

bubbling like champagne

is a feeling so new and fresh

it’s warm and pink like a newborn

wrapped in the sorrow left over

from days past and brave

enough to wander through

me igniting closed corners

and reaching into closeted

cloaked places so long neglected

It peeks around and wants to

play with its insistent joy

forces me to open my eyes

to an impossible possibility

Day 3:

Prompt: Write a poem about machines

Machines surround me in my life

They should save me time

but mostly they create an

illusion that time is shortened

as yes, the food processor

pummels food to a paste

or chops it for you in a second,

but think of the time you must

take to wash it in the dishwasher

also a machine designed to save

you time, but really think of

how long it takes to load and

unload and then there is the

mixer, such a saver, but really

by hand is only a bowl and a

spoon and much the same result

Don’t get me wrong, I love my

machines and what would anyone

do without the coffee made in

an instant one cup at a time

definitely doing its job and

saving time with no muss

and no fuss

If everything were as simple

as my Keurig and its finesse

Wait I have to go spend some

time in my favorite machine,

my car

purring like a well maintained

cat and moving me to places

I might have used my feet to

travel to, but why do that

when I can sit in the comfort

of a stuffed leather seat and

glance at the scenes as they

sway past my vision.

Day 4:

Prompt: Departure

Your Departure

We knew you were going

yet we ignored all your preparations

how you cared no more for your

favorite foods or how you kept

telling us we could stand on our own

and we tried to fight the force

of your ever present anger at

this unpleasant and unwanted

and certainly untimely leaving

as you slowly each day became

littler and weaker and your limbs

shrunk to the size of canes

your spirit undaunted sent

false denials as your hands

trembled and we watched as

you were forced to succumb to

machines to control your breath

Yet you stayed on not wanting

to take that final trip even though

last call was being sounded

and we took our goodbyes

separately and together that

last night when we hoped

you might stay for awhile

longer and I fed you pudding

and yogurt like a baby while

you tried to smile and stay

just a little longer with us

You sensed your leaving was

soon and begged to go

like a whining child

But your departure came

without warning as they

tried to keep you from going

but the doors had closed and

you were on your way.

Day 5

Prompt: Write about a vegetable

Horseradish Root

Horseradish root you look

like an old man with

your mottled knobby skin

and tendrils poking from your head

Your smell pungent and sharp

reminds me of evenings spent

with long dead loved ones and

our collective grunts as we bit

into the bitter scrapings

of your inner core

Even combined with the sweet charoset

your taste lingered on our lips

to take us back to the struggle

we celebrate and to etch

in our minds the feelings

of those who had to flee

familiar surroundings for what

we now take for granted ---

freedom

Day 6

Prompt: NOT-AS-THEY-SEEM

Do You Know Me?

You see a blonde haired older woman

Still retaining her youth

in plump cheeks and fashionable

jeans

I wear a ring, but I am no longer

married in this life

under the blonde is the brown

I hated since a child

I may appear whole, but my

body is scarred like an old handbag

Smooth and shiny outside with a

torn lining

It has scars from excavations of

non vital organs and one from

two joyous events when

my now grown daughters

were plucked from me

underneath my smile is

a wasteland of unsorted

emotions and if you were

to find my heart you would

see it is fragile and about

to break in pieces since

the loss of the man who

kept it together as it

tentatively hopes that

soon it will find solace

Day 7

Prompt: Love/Anti-Love

Secret Love

She happened upon him as only a friend

One of over a thousand who filled her

computer with their random activities

and commented when her life

brought her sorrow or accolades

yet from the first his words

were an invitation

a soft, subtle force that

moved her as if she were on

a river floating with the

current unable to stop herself

as his words became more

ardent and his intentions

became the anchor that

brought her to him

drifting toward him

unable to stop as both

found solace and peace

and she wanted so much

to shout it to all who knew

her as the feeling that

connected them drew them

toward each other ever

closer each day bringing

to each the happiness

they had told themselves

they would no longer have

and she wanted to shout it

to all who knew her but it

was too new like a butterfly

just emerging from its cocoon

So fresh and blooming with

tender wings ready to fly and

she worried its wings might be

caught on the barbs of others

Day 8

Write a poem about a Dare

(Based on characters from If I Could Be Like Jennifer Taylor)

Not A Game

She was at the party

all her baggage

already unpacked

and laid out for

her new friends to

know and she did

not want her old

friend to see it all

But there she was

petulant as always

wanting to be part

of her life and

barging in with her

own game of

Truth or Dare

Not waiting for anyone

she launched her

attack and pounced

with Truth

what could she do?

Her old best friend

asking her why

she had ignored her

these days and she

the one who knew

found her lips unable

to speak the words

long held from this

girl who she knew

from pigtails

turned to her new

friend who took

up the Dare to

tell the Truth for

her and let it

all shine out so

the room was

illuminated with the

unvarnished nightmare

of her undisclosed secret

and her old friend dissolved

in tears as she realized she

had been the last one to

know how her friend

had suffered and she

wanted to run away

but the rest of the party

closed around her

and let the light erase

all thoughts of anything

but happiness at knowing

this sad, but indisputable

Truth

Day 9

Prompt: Write a poem about work

Days without work

Work began for me as intermittent

babysitting and it fed my small needs

as I wandered through teenage years

then work was only for summers

as I tried to amass enough money

to keep myself in school telling

any who asked of course I would

stay the full time and not sneak

out in the fall to return to my real

love where education was my work

and then work became my days

days and days of getting up when

it was dark and facing discontented

students whether I was ready or not

work was not over when I returned

to my haven but I did work at night

and most weekends had me

poring over papers for work

and the students came and went

and were taught or not and I

kept this routine for work

always thinking this work was

what I really wanted to do, but

it was a sham for I longed to

be away and spend my days

at leisure not needing to work

I was only happy a few years as

work became a place where my

heart was too and then I had to

leave and work was an ancient

green walled room filled with

noisy and disrespectful students

too young to know they were

already lost and would never

rise in the education pile

and then work was a place where

I could teach writing and my heart

sang until this was gone and I was

left with no work and

now created my own work

and finally moved away from

working and suddenly realized

my soul had a different cadence

no longer did I rise at dawn and

pore over paperwork

now my work was what I wanted

to do when I wanted to do it

Freed at last from the yoke of work.

Day 10

Prompt: Use How in the title

How Does Love Start?

Love begins like a tiny drop

falling from a leaf

it’s a spark you never

knew lived in you

coming alive for the

first time as a newborn

as open and raw as a baby

eager to push forward

and its energy increases

pulsing through your body

and brain flicking switches

you never thought you had

as it flies merrily around

and sprinkles sparkles in

your heart that radiate

to all parts through your

veins and arteries they

course until they reach

your mouth and you smile

and yearn for your lover’s

smile and linger on the

thought of those lips

covering yours and your

body doesn’t behave

it keeps pushing for

more and more touches

and those sparkles leap

into your eyes when you

see your lover and your

eyes refuse to leave

your lover’s face for

fear of never seeing

it again for love has

the mind of a toddler

and must be fed until

you are so filled to

the brim with desire

and sparkles fly

everywhere as you

feel the sap as if you were

touched by magic and

suddenly transformed into

an all consuming creature

eager for only one thing

your lover and their touch

Day 11

Prompt: Write about the Seasons

Sara Says

Sara says she doesn't like Spring

as if Spring cares if she likes it

or not

and as if Spring were to run

away hurt at her slitted eyes

the lush burgeoning life

the purple crocus buds

displaying on the awakening

grass and the sound of the

birds at night heralding the

opening of the season at last

as Spring parades her finery

tulips blossom and lavender

lilacs explode filling the air with

their fragrance

garlands of azaleas grow

and the smell of wild roses

permeates the shoreline as Spring

shows her collection

but Sara would rather the

frigid ice crystals of Winter

her breath on the air

fingers frozen as snow

collects in piles around her

She dismisses Spring's show

and rushes through the excesses

of Summer eager only for the

cool breezes of Fall and waiting

for the first snowfall to announce

that Winter is finally here.

Day 12

Prompt: Damages

Cracks

At one time

the round buildings

facing each other

across the wide boulevard

were state of the art

the city must have marveled

at their architectural splendor

As we pass them each time

now we see cracks in the

foundation and wonder

how long they will exist

worrying too about

the occupants who

blithely live

with a crumbling base

normal lives and go

to sleep with confidence

they will see the morning

sun rise from their window

and not the street

and I think of the structure

of my body and yours

how we hide any cracks inside

heartbreak and sickness invisible

to the outsider and that

somehow in some way

one of those cracks will

intensify and suddenly

our whole body crumble

as the round buildings might

unless someone fixes

those cracks and strengthens

the foundation and how

we need human cement

to shore up

our tiny fissures too.

Day 13

Prompt: Confessions

Sweet Confessions

The smell of grass makes me giddy

though it also makes me sneeze and

peonies with their brilliant colors and

aroma bring me to my knees

I love the smell of growing thyme

ran my fingers through it and

soaked up the fragrance of lemon

when I grew it on my lawn

My life is not an open book

I hid much from my husband

now he is gone it is

hidden forever from those

trusting eyes

And I have coveted another

or two sometimes letting

my fickle body rule

and covering it up

I once covered a ham sandwich

with a pattern pamphlet

to hide from my

religious grandfather

in the store where I

grew up and where

I played with buttons

as my toys

I was afraid of dogs back

then and I remember how

I ran to my mother's side

when I saw the tethered

German shepherd in front

of the toy store afraid to

go beyond her protection

even for a toy

My favorite color is red

and I am afraid of roller coasters

though once went on one twice

just to be sure I could do it again

and I now have a secret so special

I feel swollen like a balloon with

the joy it brings to me

and I worry it will be pricked

and the joy will fly around

leaving me for another

and so I keep it locked

in a cloud lined place.

Day 14

Prompt: Honesty/Dishonesty

Honestly

Through the day I weave

the thread of honesty

and it lingers with me

as I say to a stranger

“Have a nice day”

Do I really care if

this stranger is happy?

Should I say instead,

I don’t know you and

don’t care for you, but

I guess you smiled

and we shared

an elevator in the

building where we

both live?

maybe too much

Was it honest to leave

out important things

I should have told you

before you were swept

from me to the great

sea where your ashes

now reside?

Should I have told you

of the few times my

eyes looked into another’s

and we lingered too

close to one another?

Should I have told you

that first night about

my date for New Years

and would you have

wanted me if I had

honestly told you the

next time we met that

I had forsaken you for

another who meant so

little to me after all?

Was it not better that

I honestly told you

my love as it poured

from me each year

and that my heart

beat only for you and

will continue to keep

your special rhythm?

What would honesty

have done to the

force that was our

love before it was

tempered by a few

years of dishonesty?

Day 15

Prompt: Use an adjective for your title

Delicious

Your taste defies description

it haunts me as I survey

the array of your goodness

I dream of

your rich flavor melting on

my tongue and coating

my mouth with your sweet

intangible and indescribable

sensuous and seductive

taste

Who can choose from your

variety of shapes and

flavors and yet there is

always the tried and true

milk chocolate or the

exotic dark chocolate

with it’s almost bitter

aftertaste and milk chocolate

with coconut not to

be missed

if you can get

coconut and almonds

you have bliss

chocolate you are

my essence

you’re a tempter

taunting me to take

you into my mouth

and bite your heavenly

body.

I have to have you

each day though it

is never enough.

Lovely

Daffodils arrived yesterday

popping their yellow heads

up into the warmer air

and they formed groups

as if an artist had planted

them dotting green grass

some would say they were

lovely and yet this also

describes the dress I love

in my closet and the

hairstyle some wear

Do I use lovely for

such splendor or

is this word too long used

for the mundane to

apply to such grandeur

Would there was another

word less misused

less spoken for the

everyday and more

for the coming alert

I must see this experience

of finding daffodils

growing along my road

and along the gate

their green shoots

decorating the too long

grayness of the sidewalk

announcing Spring has

arrived like trumpets

before a king.

Day 16

Prompt: Science

Science Thoughts

I never cared much

for Science

maybe it was because

the cute guy I had

been crushing on

all year rejected me

in Chemistry class

and maybe it was

because you couldn't

smooth it out like

you could a story

or change the course

of an experiment

once it started

and though I believed

I so believed that

Science would help

you when disease

invaded your body

and I put my faith

in doctor's brains

imbued with the

Science you needed

Still Science did not

succeed as it used

all of it's tools

tubes, liquids

to fight the invisible

force destroying you

that you couldn't

smooth out like a story

and whose end was

too harsh and proved

Science had failed once

again.

Day 17

Prompt: Swings

Swinging

It seems my life has been

as series of swings

as if my emotions could

change with the swing

of a move to a different

place

as if swinging my face

toward another space

could change me

and yes, I have to

admit the swings have

created a looseness and

a feeling that nothing is

stationary

all life is swinging from

one emotion to the

other from darkness

to light from giddy

joy to unbearable sorrow

and the journey,

oh the journey taken

has accumulated these

emotions into a

collage of such enormous

proportions you would

need a magnifying glass

to find each moment when

they changed

and now when I thought

only sorrow would permeate

my life and darkness follow

me the swing toward the

light and the giddy moments

has again begun.

Day 18
Prompt: Use only 2 vowels and y

e and a

The deep sea swept the
beach and my heart
leaped as the sand
seeped away and
the sea's heart
etched the peace
we all want and
feel
at the edge
feet awash as
sea met land
salty fragrance
warm sand met
teal water and the
week's stress melted
away as sea washed feet

Day 19

Prompt: Write a poem about Authority

Mother

As a girl my mother loomed

as the only authority in my

house, although my dad

gave a good performance

She roared and I cringed

her voice a deadly weapon

to my weak embattled soul

and we covered up small

disturbances so she wouldn't

learn like the time the ceramic

sugar bowl broke and my

brother and I pieced it together

almost like new hoping she would

never notice and she never said

a word

then suddenly as if the time had

flipped like a calendar page

I was a mother

the one with the power

who wielded it with a different

swing

as my children defied me

and I thought back to what

my mother had done and

she never lifted a hand to

me at all but she brought

me down with her persistence

never give an inch to a child

for they will take it all

but I didn't do that

instead I gave my children

the key to the world

and I hoped they would

open the right doors

Authorities

They laid in wait like jackals

salivating as the prize

loomed closer and now

when they are in charge

they sharpen their claws

and pounce on the poor

and the unprotected

their talons digging deep

into the soft skin of the

underprivileged and their

drooling mouths open for

more and more bounty

They would strip the

very foundation from

our lives so they could

line their pockets with

wads of cash

ill-gotten and filtered

only to the very top

of the food chain

and the underlings

who must now be

at the beck and call

of this wildlife

pray to the only

authority they know

to keep them safe

and to whisper in the

ear of the one who

sits above them all

that he is the only

one in charge and

must stomp his heel

on the necks of those

who want to bring

the kingdom back to

poverty and make us

relive the days when

selling apples was a job

and they smile their

salacious smiles while

pondering who they

will destroy with their

pens hoping soon that

the only one thwarting

their authority will not

be there and holding the

pen sword that will

smite them

Day 20

Prompt: Write a poem with My—the—-

My Life, The Short Version

As I stand on the lofty pinnacle

of age and gaze down at the

road like a winding path up

a giant hill

my life is the stops along

the way on the long journey

towards the top

Much of the road was bumpy

causing my vehicle to jump

up and down and sometimes

it was smooth like a

summer lake at dawn

and I accumulated so much

during this long trip that

no one body can contain it

Occasionally I lost loved

ones along the way and

one wrenching loss so

devastating it almost

made me stop

but there is always a

sunrise and maybe the

sunsets over various

venues are sweet memories

as the road continues on

the other side of the hill

Day 21

Prompt: Who Am I or Who Am I Not?

Who Am I

I am the one who wasn’t picked

the breeze on whom you all depend

the silence of loneliness

the whisper of love’s memories

the uncaged lion when required

a silly sop whose heart opens

for all lost souls

a resting place for so many heads

a creator who finds words from

the stream of chaos around her

I am the dream you wish

the aroma of Pink as I walk by

a ball of desire wrapped in

the expectations of my age

Day 22

Prompt: Write about Nature

Four Rainbows

No trumpets heralded

them and no spectacular

extravaganza marked their

presence yet in the sky

as if some mad painter

had climbed to the clouds

and with delicate brush

strokes covered it

with perfect arches

filled with paintbox colors

like a new box of crayons

when they used to come

in only eight colors and you

would take them out

and place them in an

array to admire their

clean sharp points

and it reminded me of

those days when a clean

page in front of me was

mine to fill with the fruits

of my imagination

and the world was tiny

like the box of crayons

home to school and back

not wide like it is today

so vast it disappears

distances melt and we

take for granted the

spaces in the sky

where we soar

in giant steel planes

and speak on the waves

of that air

until Nature

wakes us up to

her splendor and

we drink in the

joy of her beauty

Day 23

Prompt: History

My Grandfather's History

In the pre-World War I world
of the Polish corridor my
grandfather lived a peasant's
life as a carpenter in his shetl
with waxed paper covered
windows and a little family
pious and hardworking he
struggled as all peasants
did to keep his family alive
then the black booted soldiers
came and dragged him away
forcing him to fight in their
Russian army and my grandfather
never one to rebel decided then
to change his life and he escaped
deserted into the wilderness
running for the northern shore
enduring hardships to get there
to be on a ship his ticket out of
the horror of the Russian army
He never saw his family and he
must have suffered greatly
thinking of them pining for him
But he pushed on and found
himself on a great ocean liner
on his way to the promised land
America
America where he would begin anew
and he did
set up a business, bought a house
and returned each summer when
travel was easier to his family in
the shtetl each visit expanding it
until soon he had the money
to send for them and he
placed them in steerage
my father just a boy with
long golden curls as he
arrived wide eyed in this
bustling place so different
from the quiet of his peasant
religious life
My grandfather, a bulwark of
a man and my grandmother
small and strong now together
in this new land and my
grandfather, who had braved
the ire of the Russian army to
seed his family, must have
breathed a sigh of relief as
their feet touched American soil

Day 24

Prompt: Moment

Miracle Moment

Awaited like the sparkle

of starlight and the
feeling of ecstasy
felt when the hard
work ends and like
the dawn of a
coral skyed day
awaiting the arrival
of the sun
she arrived like
a miracle
pulled from my
body bloody
and beautiful
laid across my
breasts covered
by the surgical
sheet and I held
her for a brief
moment just
one little glance
and I knew she
was my destiny
and we were
bound with a
thread so splendid
it burst into a smile
as I saw her tiny
fingers and toes
later in warm comfort
and I admired her
perfection and
as she fit into my
arms I knew the
stars would never
shine as bright as
the love we would
share and the thread
bound me to her
never to break.

Day 25

Prompt: Across the Sea

My First Trip to Europe

Heart beating fast for the long journey

seatbelt fastened as the sound of the

engines reverberated through the

cavernous space as the stewardess

competed with the roar and the

disinterested passengers wanted

only to be fed and entertained

I sat next to my long time friend

and lover and clung to his hand

as the plane began its ascent into

the sky until it reached its peak

and I peeked through the window

at the clouds riding over the

water like horses over rough terrain

Green blue and speckled with gray

the water seemed endless and

Europe beckoned with its

dreamlike cities and cathedrals

I remember when it changed

and I felt the presence of

another place as we sped

towards our destination

The food was served and

with it tiny rolls with

foil covered butter from

Denmark

and the joy I felt as I

uncovered the lemony

pat continued when

I saw the rooftops of

Amsterdam before we

touched down on its

soil

And I was a kid again

as each new thing

captured my attention

I was in a living picture

once only seen in geography

books and now this place

in all its unusual newness

for me would be stamped

in my memory along with

the indescribable feeling

of the bubble of a dream.

Day 26

Prompt: Use a word invented by Shakespeare

Fashion ( A modern sonnet)

Shall I undress and leave my clothes

to slip into those for fashion

Maybe I should paint my toes

In the color of my latest passion

Should I walk barefaced into a store

and have my look redone

Style my hair in a new coiffure

Maybe a zany one for fun

Perhaps I am aiming too high

for my unpretentious life

But magazines make me want to try

Fashion must be followed no matter the strife

But as I glance at store windows to see what to wear

I'm left in a questionable state

And I'm left with despair

For I know in my heart I will never be a fashion plate.

Who cares anymore if the skirt’s short or long

As long as the style isn’t a sarong.

Day 27

Prompt: Write about Looking Back

All the Goodbyes

Once I thought memories

remained in the walls so

when we left our inner

selves stayed in the places

where we had lived

old scratched photos

of younger selves

thinner and full of

energy and the days

of sunshine when we

frolicked in a tree shaded

glen where the clear water

skipped over stones and

we walked barefoot in a

cool stream as we

hurried to find a place

where all of us could

lay down our blankets

and bask in the sunshine

and I remember early mornings

when we bicycled to the park

nearby our tennis rackets

tied to our bikes and

we volleyed back and forth

when you and I weren't

hunting for poorly hit balls.

Your hair and beard still

dark and curly and

mine pulled tight against

my head to keep it smooth

That crazy apartment in

Buffalo we painted in

primary colors and the

parties we had with

everyone squeezing into the

walkup two bedroom apartment

while Lady Balzac sat eagerly her

enormous form blocking the food

as we shielded it from her sweet

pink tongue and she eventually

took her hefty Newfoundland

self off to a cool space while

I served my latest creation

to so many guests I lost count

But we didn't care for we

were high on wine and pot

and young so young I

never believed we would

ever leave and these

precious moments would

be sewn into the walls

as we aged somewhere

else far away from these

golden moments.

Day 28

Prompt: Matter/Anti-Matter

What Does It Matter Anymore?

There were days when anger
over a little thing mattered
as if the world would collapse
for each of us if we didn't have
what we wanted from the other
Times when anger exploded
over a silly mishap or a
misspoken word
the fire so consuming each
of us we could no longer
stay in the same room
you running out of the
door to drown your
anger in nothing that mattered
and I seeking to find a
reason for mattering to you
then it all came to a screeching
halt when we realized at the
end of the day that what
mattered was the touch
of each other's skin next
to us and the thrill of
a hand being held for
the umpteenth time
and the smiles on our
children's faces
the matter had been
there for us all the
time and now when
you are gone
I have struggled to
find a way to matter
without you there
to remind me and
the sound of your
soft snoring in my
ear reminding me
I had all that matters.

Day 29

Prompt: What no one knows

What Nobody Knows

I had a secret crush

a boy for whom my

eyes would light when

anyone spoke his name

handsome and sweet

and we had met so

many times as children

playing while the grownups

chatted and our ages kept

us apart later as well as

our occupations as I

traveled to school and

he remained in his spot

He was a wisp of a dream

to me as I moved forward

my life never intersecting his

though wanting it to so much

and then when I was sealed

behind the bars of my

marriage with a new little

bundle of joy wrapped in

my maternal arms

we met again with a phone

call and all the untapped

feelings arose as he said

we should meet to discuss

the mundane that had

brought us together

and I walked into his

office holding my baby

against me as a shield

but his presence was a

magnet and at that moment

I wished to be unattached

so I might explore this

uncovered feeling but

life had placed a shield

around me and him and

though the feeling escaped

for a moment as I caressed

his cheek I knew this would

be the last of it and I saw

it die when I realized this

had been mutual for so

long and we had not

known

neither of us aware that

a bloom was growing

in our hearts and we had

stopped watering it.

He with longing and I

with regret said our

goodbyes.

Day 30

Prompt: Bury the ———

Bury the Sorrow

When it happened my
pain razor sharp ripped
into my body and tore
a chasm so deep any
solace fell into its pit
tears arrived at odd times
my eyes grew angry at
the constant wet furrows
running down my cheeks
and the world closed
around me as I strangled
in the ropes of my despair
Smiles around me bounced
off my heart and then April
arrived and as the warm
sunshine of poetry found
a niche in my soul I began
to bury the sorrow
one poem at a time
each one covering a little
more pain until now at the
end I have a chink of
happiness showing through
the crack in my heart.

April 2012 Poems

There doesn't seem to be room on the blog for all of my poems this year, so I have decided to make a separate page for them. Here are all the poems from April so far. These will be updated daily until the end of the month.

April 1, 2012 - Urgent communication

Bills

They lay in their glassine envelopes
taunting me with their placid outsides
When I gather them from the tiny metal
box where they are placed I have hope
that some of those envelopes will be
a chance for happiness and not the
numbing sameness of monotonous
figures depleting my small store of
cash for the glory of corporations

April 2, 2012 - Uninvited guests

Uninvited Guests

After adding the juice of plump, rosy San Marzano tomatoes
to the simmering brown mixture filled with cuts of onion and
sweet garlic bits – me in those gray loose pants I wear for the
joy of being at home, stirring tomato sauce, tasting watching the
plops of red blossom around the pan on the snow white stove top
Sauce to the point of perfection, tasted and seasoned and ready
The glass bowl set near to catch the delicate spaghetti coated
with the luscious sauce waiting like a performer to begin the
show, we heard a knock, knock on the door. My daughter,
bowl in hand tentatively opened the locks and peeked outside
just a crack to see our uninvited visitors. He with the ready
smile and open face asked the question while his companion
popped up smiling too. My can opener, they needed my manual
can opener and I passed it to them a bond between two new
neighbors.

April 3, 2012 - Two for Tuesday, write an apologetic or non-apolgetic poem

Wall of sorrys

After so many years the sorrys flow like a wall of water
too many and too few to fill the gaps of our days
We were inevitable, the force between us unbroken
and we moved ahead like logs in the river no boundaries
for our boundless love
knowing always the shelter of your strong arms
the pleasure of our shared moments
and it’s not my fault you turned away
my company no longer enough for your
selfish pursuits and I nurtured the seed of our
love watering it with my tears hoping it would
grow and flourish and become supple as it once was
yet your loveless glances continue and we bump
around in this alien world like boarders
only occasionally do I see the peek of light
in your eyes and I am sorry to see it for it
reminds me of the laser beams I used to know.

April 4, 2012 - a 100% poem

Striving for 100%

We all do it

worship the number

pray for it

cry for it

stay up late forcing

words into our brains

cross our fingers

when the papers

reveal the truth

and we infuse

this desire into

our children with

their first attempts

rewarding with gold

stars those who

achieve the magic

number

while the stragglers

develop cement feet

and though they try

can never quite meet

the heights

they drop away to

find the easier route

gaining hundreds

for their limited attempts

forced to watch

the stars who soar

on the backs of their

100%s separated from

their talented friends

soon to be the haves

of the school.

April 5, 2012 - Write about something that happened before your time.

The Lost Boys

Grandma had a routine
when she visited her
husband’s grave
She stopped at
two small graves
on the other side
of this pocket sized
cemetery overwhelmed
by Brooklyn streets and
the sound of the el
She strolled over and
stood in front of these
tiny markers while she
and my mother recited
once again the same
story of how beautiful
they were and how
fast they went as the
epidemic claimed mostly
the young and left a hole
in the family and sorrow
still in the hearts of their
mother and sister over fifty years
later and I watched each
shed tears dripping on
the soil as both of them
found the tiniest pebble
to place on the top of
the stones.

April 6, 2012 - Write a poem about hiding or something hidden

Hidden Inside Me

People see the calm and quiet

demure and together woman

who speaks in a low voice and

sits calmly in Starbucks,

vanilla skim latte in hand

but they don't know the

fire burning inside or the

anger waiting, peeking out

sparked in private and only

rarely, when it can no longer

be tamed, flames out in public

the fire voice strong and firm

takes no prisoners retreats

from no one

demands to be heard at the

slightest injustice

yet it stays hidden within

only appearing when safe

in the confines of my home

where the lion no longer

need be caged.

April 7, 2012 - write about wordless communication

Coming Home

I see her face as she walks through the door

and smile knowing the way the night will be

she will hold it all in her until the air

begins to escape and form into tears

while her day explodes around her

as she lets out the tensions

to us listening yet not able to

direct events to soothe her

stressful mind and ease the

unmanageable pain she continues

to collect as she moves

through the monotony of her

work life unable to change

and forced to be burdened

by the harmful barbs of others

She answers my smile with

her own, tight, lips pressed

eyes dull, controlled and

then suddenly the face

changes and becomes

once more the sweet little

girl she strives so carefully

to hide and I fold her in

my arms to stay the flood

of tears.

April 8, 2012 - write about rejection

Smooth

He sat in front of me in chemistry class
His smooth brown hair all I could see
as the teacher recited complicated
sentences I paid little attention to
as thoughts bubbled rising to the
surface giving me hope and
courage to finally, finally
open my mouth and speak to
this letter jacketed hunk so
close to me and yet so far
away on a plane with the
popular crowd shining and
unattainable and yet I
struggled one day at the
end of class
heart pounding in my throat
anticipation thickening my
voice as it squeaked out
the few words I had rehearsed
in my secret wonderings
hoping this time, though
my hair was short and not
the long shiny waves of the
popular girls and my fourteen
year old body not yet formed
he would say yes and I would
be on the arm of my crush
who would clear the aisles
as we glided past all the
harmful glances
So I said the words to his
open and outstanding face
watching as he carefully
answered with his own
and no one saw the
invisible knife as it tore
into me and left me
shattered in front of the
table of elements.

April 9, 2012 - write a poem about something shady

Sol y Sombre ( Sun and Shade)

We bought tickets for the

middle of the arena where

the hot sun burned when we first arrived

but they assured us the shade would soon

be there and the bullfight would be mostly

in the shade for the rest of the afternoon

We took our seats on the hard stone

and purchased a thin cushion to

soften the hours we would sit

unsure of what we would see

awaiting the parade of the

matadors, resplendent in their

gold trimmed, embroidered

jackets

Then the bull advanced

we were still in the hot sun

when the picadors shoved

their sharp picks into the

flesh of the innocent bull

as he attempted to run

from the horsemen

flailing his horns around

The matador strode in

with his scarlet lined cloak

and faced the bull with

hidden sword

The crowd shouted "Ole"

as he skirted past the

deadly horns and reduced

the bull to a confused mess

And then, when the shade

had descended over us

the moment of truth

came and we watched

the matador

sword now extended

slice into the

magnificent head of the

outstanding bull and

my eyes filled with tears

as the now shrunken

carcass of the bull was

escorted out of the arena

to the cheers of the crowd

while the matador presented

the ear to the lucky onlooker

April 10, 2012 - Two for Tuesday: Write about the forest or about trees or any combination of the two

Caught in the Forest

The trees bend graceful
from the wind and the sun
toward the light rising
until my eyes can no
longer see into the
endless sky
raising their leafy tops
to the warmth and
leaving their bare trunks
behind, bark naked
to the whims of the
inhabitants of this forest
and I think of all of us
down here on the ground
surrounded by the trees
of our lives
leafy tops striving
each day toward the light
feeling the warm sunshine
of praise upon our efforts
as we leave the bare, naked
trunks of our former existence
behind.

April 11, 2012 - Write about a season, Summer, Spring, Autumn, Rabbit...

That Spring

Spring came offering gifts

lush blossoms' fragrance

filled my senses and

entwined with the new

feeling found suddenly

In my new grown body

anticipation as if each

moment should be

pressed and kept

the light soft and

desire bubbling like

scented oil inside

urges unknown

until Spring placed

her floral hands upon

my electric skin and

made me lay on the

moss carpet of new

grown grass as I

succumbed to the

dream

wrapped myself

in garlands of desire

and afterward wept for

April 12, 2012 - Write a poem: Something...

Something Is Missing

Days follow days in
lockstep progression
hours slip effortlessly
through and between
moments filter
excitement and despair
and lives continue
with the regularity of
monotonous marching
and I search each
morning in the mirror
those eyes so familiar
saddened from the loss
coping, yet continually
searching for the thread
that used to hold me
together as if somehow
a stitch might be caught
and held and the garment
kept together, though old
and tattered and full of
holes. Somehow the
whole might reappear
transformed into the
something we both
wore together
instead of the rag
I keep close to
my heart now
reminding me of
times when life
danced us both
and our fine threads
covered us creating
a screen where we
shared the feeling
romping in endless
joy

April 13, 2012 - Write a poem about being unlucky

The Unlucky Ones ( Thoughts on Tsunami 2011)

They were unlucky
to have been born
in a place where the
wind held court over all
where the ocean
reclaimed land long
domesticated and
refined until buds
grew and houses
stood painted and
strong
How unlucky to
have been born
in a place where
water slid over all
blanketing cars
covering pavement
forcing some to
seek shelter in
crowds with
bodies lying
side by side on
thin cots listening
to the snores and
cries of just met
neighbors
How unlucky to
be in a place
where no one
would ever be
able to reclaim
their homes and
radiation overruled
all

When the End Comes

My daughter always worries
about December 21, 2012
as if we were to believe
the Mayans and stop all
that day standing wherever
we are waiting for the
scene of the end
and will we all run
to the tops of buildings to
welcome the end like Y2K?
Will we hasten the time
by finding a way to off our
family and ourselves not
to see the end, but instead
to go peacefully, like
an ordinary day, only
this time sleep will be
our only constant
or maybe we can all
agree what we will do
and gather together
in giant crowds for
support as the unknown
descends upon us in
a fog, or ice or rains
fire
Or maybe it will come
with no fanfare and all
will perish without warning
activity on earth ceasing
as it self-destructs and
everything evaporates
leaving a fine dust
circling the sun

April 15, 2012 - Use slash, button, mask, strap and balloon

The Button Room

My life began with buttons
their company my adventure
stories where I was the princess
strapped to the stone chair
and my brave rescuer in
a mask swooped in and
with a slash of his powerful
sword untied me and
I floated like a balloon
into his strong arms
all the while imagining
the airless rooom where
I played with those
buttons was the open
sky and I landed in
a soft splendid carriage
with my prince instead
of the hard wooden chair
in the room I grew to love

April 16, 2012 - Write a poem about a mixture

My Mixture

Take one part girl from Brooklyn
Add years spent in the snow belt
as a callow youth
Mix one year of Los Angeles smog
and frantic movement
Stir generously with one year in Binghamton
Fold in the restless years of Buffalo life
and the sadness of losing both dogs and
an unformed life
Spread on the streets of Kew Gardens
for eight years and then bake well in
Rocky Point in a suburban home
complete with children and Newfie
Unmold and place in Bedford with
days spent ferrying children back and forth
Frost with two decades of work and worry
Sprinkle a finally published book and
poetic friends on top and serve

April 17, 2012 - Two for Tuesday. Write a poem about a fantasy

Westeros (for Game of Thrones fans)

Winter is coming
spoken barely above a whisper
in this made for TV extravaganza
a world filled with warring countries
struggling to find union
yet distrustful of each other
a world where incest invades
the royal chamber and a half
naked queen with dragon’s blood
reigns over the remnants of her
kingdom
a place where wolves are dogs
and strong men become stronger
on the backs of women and servants
a cold place and a sweltering desert
love and hate exist hand in hand
and a girl must disguise herself
as a boy to stay alive
wild and civilized at the same time
a contradiction in every way
yet Westeros exists and
mirrors the corruption and deceit
found everywhere in our reality.

April 18, 2012 - Write a poem with a regional food as the title

Knish

When I moved to Queens
the delectable flavor
tantalized me and I
missed the aroma
wafting out to the
street as I walked
by never able to
avoid the invitation
sent on the breeze
for my mouth to
bite into the flaky
crust and taste the
oniony, potatoey
goodness inside
of that marvel found
on my Brooklyn street
they try hard at
Knish Nosh to replicate
but I still remember
strolling to the movies
holding that hot potato
confection

April 19, 2012 - Write about a life event

My Wedding Day

It started squashed into my
mother’s tiny room
alone dressing in the
short skirted jacketed
ivory wool lace dress
so perfect for the
toned down ceremony
in the rabbi’s study
me screaming due
to a run in my
special white lace
stockings with the
satin shoes and
no one paying attention
to the bride as each
rushed around readying
our house for the guests
afterward
then the ride to Brooklyn
not special in my parent’s
car and finally the ceremony
in front of family and friends
where the ancient Hebrew words
brought me to tears and more
worry about mascara running
those words binding me to you
for all these years like the strong
thread used for my dress which
hangs in my closet still.

April 20, 2012 - Use Let’s_____

Let's Say Today Really Sucked

Hours spent in a hospital

waiting for the procedure

for him to begin and then

hours in a waiting room

awaiting the end of the

useless procedure

watching doctors and

nurses milling around

their green fatigues

splashed with bits of

color

One wearing a Nets

headscarf and another

a rainbow colored smock

All solicitous, concerned

hovering over the bed

apologetic for the delay

as if anyone cared when

this invasive procedure would

begin

He is calm and cool,

quiet and subdued

hopeful they might

perform a miracle

and bring blood to the

bloodless toe

but alas, with long

face the white bearded

oh, so friendly and

personable doctor

arrives with the news

he, the miracle maker

cannot perform on

this specimen and

the only people richer for

this are the fat cats in

glass and steel offices

who reap the benefits

and the doctor who

slinks away guilty he

no longer has a reason

for smiling at me.

April 21, 2012 - Write about under the microscope

Under the Microscope

Should we dissect each

other like a science project

pinning a part of each

to respective slides

and figure out why

we continue to exist

as a couple?

Why when all sense of

coupleness has disappeared

and the light in your eyes

only sometimes shines

for me

Why when the juices

flowing through our

respective bodies

have taken a hike and

yet there still remains

that undefinable spark

perhaps found when

examined closely

under more magnification

to figure out why it still

exists when all conspires

to snuff it out

Is it like the burning ember

still smoldering under the

burnt logs now ashes

Can if be fanned to burst

forth in flames or is it soon

to burn out if left alone?

April 22, 2012 - Judgement or judging

Escaping Your Judgement

Your eyes hold me in

a vise glance

You don't like my

baggy jeans or the

way I laugh too loud

or the joy I seem to

find within the mess of

our lives

When I walk through

the door I don't see

those eyes peering

down on me as if

I were being sentenced

I feel the rush of freedom

as I pass beyond your

scrutiny and walk into

the world an anonymous

blob, free and unencumbered

by the weight of your vision.

April 23, 2012 - Write a morning poem

Morning Thoughts

I wake to the aroma

of fried eggs wafting

from the kitchen, but

it is late and no one

is home

He wakes early,

sometimes before I

am asleep and begins

his day in silence and

routine

I rarely see the early

morning except if I am

not asleep and peek

out through the blinds

to see the strands of

red and gold ride

across the sky

I wake to the

certainty I have

missed something,

but in my half sleep

state remember

mornings when I

was roused by the

sweet voices of

starving kids

with their soft

kisses and

insistent yells

of "Mommy, wake

up. I'm hungry"

The mad dash to

feed those empty

vessels and send

them out to the

world still in my

pajamas racing

like a madwoman

behind the wheel

to the school's doors.

April 24, 2012 - Two for Tuesday, write a love or anti-love poem

A Study of Love

Love can’t be dissected
it doesn’t lay there like
a specimen waiting for
someone to uncover
its secret
the tantalizing thread
it casts cannot be seen
until too late and then
there you are in the net
caught by the gossamer
delight of the thrill
no roller coaster ride
can duplicate the
charge which connects
you to the other
forever in a wild and
crazy dance through
the years and you
swirl with the changes
as the whirlpool sucks
you deeper into its vortex

April 25, 2012 - Write a poem about a sport

The Zen of Tennis

Tennis had always
been for me a
racket dusted off
for the summer
and dragged to
damp, dusty
wooden boarded
dwellings to sit
most days unused,
yet one summer
when life encumbered
me with family I found
a few moments in the
evening to thwack the
ball across the net
and I remember the
first day of this class
when the instructor
after showing us how
to hold the racket
launched into a
discourse on how
we needed to experience
the art of playing in our
minds and imagine
our rackets hitting the
ball in the perfect
trajectory over the
net and away from
our opponent’s racket
The zen of tennis
went through my
head as I trundled
kids back and forth
to various activities
and I was no longer
the chauffeur, but
the player center
court wearing an
oh so stylish outfit
and wielding a racket
like a pro, thwacking
the ball consistently
and truly
in a beautiful
ballet.

April 26, 2012 - Write a poem about an animal

Flash – An Incomparable Newfoundland

What I would give
for one more moment
of your soft fur against
my cheek and your
head on my lap
for one more day
spent watching
your tail swish back
and forth and your
pink tongue lap my
face

The black and white
fur-ness of you as
you commanded the
space in which you were
majestic as a king you
comforted my daughters
as they lay against your
massive body and you
served as their bean bag
chair content to accommodate
their toddler shapes

You were my comfort
when all human company
failed and I miss the
exuberance of your welcome
your whole body shaking back
and forth as it leapt upward
forgetting your manners
to lick me hello
No welcome will ever
be as sweet.

April 27, 2012 - Write a poem titled The Trouble is...

The Trouble Is…

The trouble is there
is so much to do
and the time goes
by like water over
Niagara Falls and
the clock keeps
ticking though I
haven’t even seen
today’s poem or
finished my email
or edited that
manuscript or
woken in time
for breakfast
or smiled at the
day even once
and soon the
night comes
slipping over all
and the day folds
into an accordion
as I try to catch
up sneaking words
onto the screen in
the early hours and
forcing my head down
onto the pillow before
the day opens her
curtain and my mad
dash begins again.

April 28, 2012 - Write a poem about a problem

Our Problem
We dance around it
pretending it doesn’t
exist as if we were
living together as true
husband and wife and
not the roommates we
have become
when I lay beside you
my hand accidentally
touches your arm and
remembered pleasure
seeps through my brain
and rests in places no
longer watered by love
places that left in their
current environment will
surely turn to desert
and you seem oblivious
to this gradual disintegration
as I wonder what the arms
of those unmet will feel like
yet still I cling to the useless
feelings I now must carry
around like stones each day

April 29, 2012 - Write a poem using a line from a previous poem

The trees bend graceful from the wind and the sun

Their canopy of green forms

an umbrella of peace

as I stroll through their

serene presence

and drink in the puffs of air

surrounding them

bringing me to a higher

plane elevating my senses

as I breathe in the sweet

grasslike aroma emanating

from the growing leaves

budding and bringing

infant life to the ancient

branches

April 30, 2012 - Write a poem that fades

Day Fades

The sun spreads its tired
face all over the sky in
brilliant reds and oranges
with a few dabs of purple
and lavenders blending
blotting out the blue of
the sky inviting the
impetuous night to
peek over the clouds
as the sun descends
rubbing its eyes and
makes way for the
moon’s stunning arrival
and the water
reflects the faded glory
of the sun’s spectacular
reign as one more day
closes and folds itself
as one more day ceases
and the sun rests on the horizon
then
disappears
disappears
disappears
disappears

Barbara's Meanderings

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