People Who Don’t Signal for Lane Changes

Poetic Asides Day 3 prompt:  Pick a type of person, and write about him or her.

People Who Don’t Signal for Lane Changes

They dart willy-nilly from lane to lane
like frogs trying to escape predators.
Do they truly not make up their minds
until the very last minute, or they simply
trying for that aura of je ne sais quoi?

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Playing Catch Up

In the frenzy that is National Poetry Month, I am attempting two poetry challenges (plus responding to a smattering of other prompts that appeal to me). My NaHaiWriMo is going strong, and I’ve decided (at least for now) to keep my haiku on Facebook only, thereby making them eligible to submit to Frogpond, which considers blog posts published, but is okay with FB posts. They can all be read on the NaHaiWriMo page.

As for Poetic Asides, I am plugging away at the prompts in my notebook, and am a few days behind in my efforts. I will post them as I complete them…

what if

When I first saw the Poetic Asides prompt today, asking us to write a poem in which we imagine the world without us, I thought, no way,  I’m not going there. Some of the poetry I’ve been writing lately has been pretty intense, and I had an intense morning volunteering at a Komen event where I heard many moving stories of cancer diagnoses, and loss. But then I decided to go for the light touch, and wrote this poem; I am and will always be fervently grateful to my parents for not just giving me life, but for being the best parents they could possibly be. Imagine a world without me? Impossible!

what if

if my mom
hadn’t met my dad
i’d be the child
that they never had

or if they had kids
but stopped at three
my life as i know it
simply wouldn’t be

so all in all
i just have to say
i’m glad they had me
and i’m here today

Postcard from Home

I’m holding down the fort this week. This was inspired by yesterday’s Poetic Asides PAD prompt to write a postcard poem. What a great idea! As an inveterate postcard collector, I am fascinated by all the postcards I have amassed over the years from the special people in my life, both by the images on the front side, and by the brief but pithy messages conveyed on the back. I like re-reading them from time to time. They give such a slice of life.

 

Postcard from Home

I am here. You are there.
Today I dispatched a spider.
At 5:30 a.m. He was as big
as a quarter. Or so I am told.
I was half asleep. Yesterday
there were three spiders. The
day before, none. It was sunny
yesterday. Then it hailed. Hard.
Then sun again. Clouds, rain,
sun. Clouds, rain, sun. I see
where this is going. I hear it
is hot and sunny where you are.
I hope you are having fun. I am
here. You are there. I could
wish it otherwise.

why i write

This one is to the 2011 Poetic Asides April PAD challenge.

Prompt: “For today’s prompt, write a “what got you here” poem. For instance, write a poem about a mode of transportation like your car, bike, horse, etc. Or write a poem about what “got you here” as a human being or writer (like what got you started writing, perhaps). Or write a poem about what brought you to this blog. Or whatever other interpretation you might have.”

why i write

would i be deemed crazy, if i said i write
because i hear voices in my head? well,
not voices, exactly. whispers. well, not
really whispers exactly either. words.
endless streams of words.