Day Trip Poetry Marathon 2018, Week 5

The Marathon journey continues. Search under the category Day Trip Poetry Marathon 2018 for earlier entries.

Here I am again at Brendlinger Library, Montco, on February 1. Already it is February! It’s a chilly gray day with a light dusting of snow left over from a couple of days ago.

Here is a shot of the parking lot. I was early today and parked up near the front. As a bit of trivia, on weekends this campus is a great place to run. I was here last weekend and did my version of a labyrinth: I go up and down the aisles of all the parking lots on campus, making a big circle. It takes about 50-55 minutes. It is a strangely satisfying run – your mind is free to wander as you go up and down the lanes. Like a real labyrinth experience is. Now you know – find an empty parking lot and you have made yourself a labyrinth to follow in meditation.

Montco 2-1-18 #2005

All right. I got all set up and got to work.

I decided to edit last week’s poems first. Finishing up old business, so to speak. And it was a good thing I did this when I was fresh and had energy, because last week’s poems seemed to need a lot of work. More rewriting than usual. Then I worked on new poems, did a Minuscule story/poem, and finally Little Vines.

I felt a little scattered – I’ve felt this way all week. But, you know, the main thing is that I made it to the library, sat down, and got to work.

OK, here are some results from today.

I started this poem off with the selection of the first line, using one of my snippets phrase cards I have made (I like the way random phrases start off ideas and this is one of the ways I get to those random phrases – plus, when I’ve used up all the possibilities on the card, I cut it apart and turn it into snippets poetry). Anyway, I enjoyed imagining a situation and going along with it.

I went into a restaurant
asked for a table near the window
ordered grilled cheese and french fries
because it was the first thing on the menu
and funds were low. Didn’t recognize you
when you came in. There were half a dozen people
walked through that door could have been you
but they weren’t
only you were you
and I didn’t recognize you
Plenty of room for doubt. Anyway
you knew me
right off the bat. The fragility of the image
varies with the strength of the memory
maybe. Though the inverse could be true –
barely thought of
no intervening layers
have been laid down to alter the picture. I guess
I can argue about anything on both sides
I just don’t care much I guess. What a nice surprise I say
though I don’t mean it.
Sit down I say though I don’t mean it
I wanted to watch the people
out on the sidewalk washed clean in the sunshine
wearing new clothes and with money to spend
while I ate the sandwich I can barely afford
and thought about things. Instead
I look at my hands in close-up and
push a french-fry into the ketchup puddle on my plate
working it in hard circles
until I lose patience and
eat it. I wait to hear what you had to say
about anything
out of the side of my eye I watch
the sunshine move the people along the street

Montco 2-1-18 card001

This haiku is for page 14 in my ongoing small artist sketchbook project. The creature in the picture reminded me of my cat.

You are love to me,
small friend, your generous heart
with so much to give

Montco 2-1-18 #6001

Now, Little Vines.

a fine example of a parsimonious husband
on the way to the office
intoxicated with his own perfection

unfair advantage
Let me catch you up with everything that’s happened.

it was the most squalid kitchen you’ve ever seen
it had a monopoly on utter and complete noxious grime
I took a peek and wished I hadn’t

remember the last time you wore this dress
I said it then I’ll say it now
authentic fact – glitter looks good on you

Now I’m not smart.
I was jitters.
Know. Him. Not.
Husband enough. Father. No.

from the plane
I could see the earth way below me
gossip and public opinion meaningless and absurd

you’ve gone to all that trouble
four hundred attempts
I have zero shame in telling you that I still don’t care.

can two people have identical thumbprints?
what sort of flim-flam scheme
is your mother pushing?

we all walk restless and still surviving
but did you ever stop to think it’s finite
flung aside with ease?

Burn chocolate.
Melt noodles.
Barricade the kitchen.

a real donnybrook going on upstairs
she had no ID and couldn’t remember her name
for Pete’s sake it was just a baby tooth

the professor’s research is simply fabulous
wig and lipstick and I’m a different person
it’s called the gray oatmeal therapy

but no thanks and no thanks and get lost

Thank you for reading! See you next time.

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6 thoughts on “Day Trip Poetry Marathon 2018, Week 5

  1. Thank you. I love my cat, plain and simple. And, I like to be alone and when I am planning to be alone, I hate being interrupted. I also kind of thought the person in the poem was not at a good point in life and maybe the other person was perky and too prosperous at the moment. (You see I could go on and on, there is never an end to the story, is there??!!)

  2. I loved the cat poem (perhaps obviously) and found it very touching. I really liked the phrase “intoxicated with his own perfection”. I have known a few people who that would have been an apt description of. I had to look up the word “donnybrook” as that was a new one to me. I see it is North American so I can let myself off for not knowing it until now. See: reading your blog is educational. That kitchen poem made me judder a bit as it evoked all sorts of memories of my paternal grandparents’ kitchen. We kids were never allowed to eat anything in their house ever because it was so unhygienic. Most of my memories of visits to them are tinged with thoughts of ravenous hunger.

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