Saturday, November 28, 2009

Poem #43

Whoa. I got behind yet again. Where the heck did November go? I've been scribbling thoughts in my notebook, some of which will become poems on this-here blog and other thoughts which will assemble themselves into a story of some sort.

Orange-yellow paint offends
so she sits with a paintbrush to fix
and the child behind her
paints as well
reminding her
that they are artists
but she is far
far away
painting over the yellow-orange
and painting over
a part of herself
As she sits
and stares at the wall,
Lady paints the blues
paints the walls blue
paints the blues away

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Poem #42

No ignorant armies here
to clash by night
just day dreamers
ruling over
all we see
in helmets of plastic
blue and red
adorned with brightly colored
Easter eggs

Poem #41

Not one for fancy titles here
not clever irony
not unclever irony
just "Poem" and a number
giving my words a number
assigning them a number
based on the order
in which they assembled
in my brain
like special members
of an elite club
this will forever be known
as 41.

Poem #40

The gate stands strong,
plastic rooted into the wall
separating living room
from kitchen
kitchen where food lives
where freedom is
and they wait
impatient East Germans
with tiny fists
banging against the unfairness
of the gate
waiting, ever waiting
for the gate to open
for the wall to fall.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Poem #39

I'm not sure what to do
I'm over 1/3 through
I've looked up and I've looked down
but not a comment to be found.

Does anybody read them?
Does anybody need them?
Or am I writing just to me
my silly little poetry?

Poem #38

half a pink pill
only half
one fraction of before
to fix chemistry
I was never good
at chemistry
never good at getting
equations just right
maybe the pink pill
is smarter
maybe the white pill
will be smarter
knowing something about chemistry
that I do not.

Poem #37

diving into words
and new ideas
and the novel idea
that perhaps
the different way
in which I think,
in which I write
isn't so terrible
be different
as though
I ever had a choice

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Poem #36

As my astute reader will notice, I haven't been posting my daily poem this week. I have been having some issues lately regarding depression and medication. This has been reflected in my absolute obsession with my own brain of late. This trend will likely continue, but today I am posting the rest of the poems for the week so that I can get on with it.

She is Poochie-pink memories
and Pretty in Pink memories
she is Strawberry Shortcake thoughts
and we remember her red hair
and Molly Ringwald's
Sixteen Candles red hair
We talk
of Bill
We talk
of Ted
and the strange things
afoot at the Circle K
we remember a past
separate
but somehow equal

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Poem #35

I need a little bad thought spray
to make the bad thoughts go away
I tried to find it at the store
I guess they don't sell it anymore.

Poem #34

Thinking far too much
about my own brain
thinking about
my own thoughts
which is
like touching
my own fingertips

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Poem #33

learning the hard way
(is there any other way?)
not to mix
home and work
when the boss asks you
about a file
never say
"let's play Blue's Clues
to figure it out"
blue paw prints
on company property
are discouraged
lesson learned