do napowrimo 2009 (a poem a day during April)

Because of 43things, I was able to contact the girl who was the inspiration for one of these poems, and read the poem to her over the phone. I haven’t spoken to her since 2002, maybe earlier.

I am so not right. As I may have mentioned I have been writing my poems on paper and then putting them on my computer, and I’ve been such a lazy ass that I didn’t do it until today. So here’s the last three NaPoWriMo poems. I’m just going to link to them since its over and probably no one will read this.

http://thecutestnerd.livejournal.com/40541.html – Disappointed

http://thecutestnerd.livejournal.com/40838.html – Cold

http://thecutestnerd.livejournal.com/40998.html – Powerless

Catching up, and yes, I know it’s May.

You go about your business
Steadily, plodding a bit.
Not the fastest sprinter in the stable,
Not the sharpest tool in the shed.

When you feel the moist nudge of a predator, you
Pull it all in, shut it all out.
The threat may be real or just percieved, but hey,
You and I know that perception is reality.

We’ve developed hard shells for a reason, haven’t we?
And if someone doesn’t like our style, that’s okay,
Because we’ve noticed that the flashy types, with their rabbitty speed,
Aren’t usually around when we cross the finish line.

Easy enough, I thought,
Not to be like you, while
I have watched you sifting
Through opportunities
As one might dump out and
Sort the contents of a
Halloween bag in search
Of sweet epiphany,
Unwrapping one notion
After another. No,
That is not what I want.
I have seen you trying
On my thinking for size
And it hurts, the thought of
You squeezing yourself in
There like that, a clumsy
Foot threatening a glass
Slipper. No wonder I
Can’t think straight, with all the
Fissures and new edges
Cutting up all my good
Intentions. I do not
Know why you wanted to
Come here in the first place.
After the first break-in
(You’d call it a visit),
I saw nothing out of
Place except a couple
Of misplaced feelings and
Some ideas with odd
Finger-prints on them. I
Didn’t think anything
Of it. The second time
I was too amused by
Your boldness and stealth to
Care about an altered
Perception, a shift in
Reasoning. I didn’t
Think you greedy. You said
You were merely browsing,
Not casing the joint. It
Sounded logical. I
Know now I should have stopped
You right there, because the
Third time means invasion.
I am afraid of you
Cherry-picking the best
Emotions and beliefs
For the purpose of your
Amusement. I am still
Able to imagine,
Because I can picture
You quite clearly in your
Escape with your pockets
Bulging, leaving behind
Nothing but a dust-pan.

You shoved me off
past the breakers,
my small craft
smooth and empty
like a pecan shell.
My only provisions
your harsh farewell.
Yet when I returned
sunburned, sun-blind,
parched more alive
with nothing for you,
neither fruits of the sea
nor artifact, no souvenir
of that wine-dark journey,
a deep surprise
shocked you still.

from
Reluctance
Robert Frost
_(excerpt)

Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than a treason
To go with the drift of things,
To yield with a grace to reason,
And bow and accept the end
Of a love or a season?

Thirty poems in thirty days. Of course the goal I’m working on is 43 poems about 43 people, so I still have a dozen more poems to write before I can mark that complete.

The last topics for this NaPoWriMo entry were Wensleydale, Nicolasc, KissMiss, RatUnderPaper, Arsene Lupin, Fishboy, Maxime, Kim N, and Girl In The Curl.

So who else am I considering for a poem? Today’s will likely be for Michael on the birth of his child. Tomorrow will likely be Deni H as she completes a 10K. Beyond that I’m not sure but there are several teammates on this goal I’ve not written a poem about yet and they are all deserving of a poem.

We had a conversation
Once, and you said if you had
A rope and a tyre, you’d make
A swing that hung from a tree,
In a yard that was ours. I
Would sit and swing and you would
Push, and we would while away
Hours, you and I, singing
And reading prose to ourselves
Behind the glowing sky. You
sang, ‘No-one has ever loved
You but I will, as far as
The poplars rise, beyond the
Stars and then some, because I
Know you best.’ You pushed me up
And over the grove so I
Could see the traffic inching
Along the highway, the sun
Gone; in its place was a blur
Of tail-lights just as bright, a
Crest of fireball in the
Distance and a plume of smoke.
It’s hard to say now when the
Spell was broken; it could have
Been at that exact moment,
Or at hearing the wail of
Sirens a minute later,
Or at the appearance of
Neighbours holding beer on their
Back porches, curious but
Grateful to keep their distance.

Remembering the party of solitude. Wanting to refuse to play. Glad to be leaving. Things that are untrue. The evolution of. No longer needing your ever present absence. Rainbow on river surface betraying polution underneith. I go home.

Mailing you a napkin of something written years ago. The memories that were packed, away reopened. The hardest task. Had a friend who would turn straw into gold for only a modest fee. Understand what it is to love you, realize it too tall for the space provided. Just leave it here, someone will be by to collect it later. Curl up secrets of siblings. You meet all types. Or maybe…