Thursday, October 31, 2013

Stepping Up for November

I talked to a friend who surprised me by saying he read my blog now and then. That in itself did not motivate me to write more but tonight I got an email from BlogHer that promised writing prompts from NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month) Ok I will try. I will try and even if I fail I will hold my head up and take stupid pictures of myself to direct your attentions away from my failures HA!

Sunday, October 6, 2013

Forgotten Poems Day 3

Indigo Blue       Oct 7, 1981

This is of promises
Turned indigo blue
Whenever it happens
I think of you
The times that we had
Still shine in my head
There are so many things
I wish I had said
And then when the ocean
Turns indigo blue
Again I find myself
Thinking of you
The words and the silences
Were one between us
The touching, the holding
And sometimes the lust
No one understood
How we felt, me and you
In our own little world
Of indigo blue

 It's a secret who this is about but there are more poems dedicated to that person coming up. Looking back, yeah I'm seeing why it didn't work, but man was it painful for a few intense years wondering what could have been.

Thursday, October 3, 2013

Forgotten Poems Day 2


Future Premonitions
           (To a Milkweed)

How much will the
common milkweed
have evolved in
three million years?

Will its ivory white
sap have turned
green as the result
of too many radioactive
particles in the air?

Will it have shrunk
to the size of the
Lilliputians of
Gulliver's Travels
or will it
have grown to giant
proportions to become
the national tree
of some future nation?

Ok so how corny was that? This reminded me of something that happened while I was living in Colorado Springs. I was out for a walk one day when I saw some milkweeds actually being grown as ornamentals. Coming from farmland USA it was WEIRD to the max. I stopped to smell the milkweeds every time I saw them after that. They are quite fragrant.

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

The Forgotten Poems Day 1

OMG seriously o.m.g.

I got most of the rest of my stuff out of my daughter's shed yesterday and I went through a tub and found a book of my poems dated 1977-1991. I had forgotten all about them. I think I'll blog them for posterity since the only thing I can leave my kids and grandkids are youtube videos and facebook crap.

I must have been a senior in high school when I wrote this first one:

Para Tu

When the flame
goes out
what is left?
A mere puff
of smoke
or is it
something more,
something no one
will ever understand?

For a fleeting
its presence
is felt
and then
it's gone too.

The body
sinking slowly
into a state
of quiet
and the mind