November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 28

Okay, with 3 days left, it’s time to write a top-of-the-world or celebration poem. Even if your overall collection is a downer, try to find something related to your theme to celebrate. After all, you have 2 more days to get back to your overall mood.


Here’s my attempt for the day:


“He’s dead”


The monster is dead,
we chopped off his head;


the vampire is gone,
sun burned him at dawn;


the mummy’s kaput,
unwrapped head to foot;


the werewolf done died,
and nobody cried.


 

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71 thoughts on “November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 28

  1. Juanita Snyder

    “We’ll wait in stone circles ’til the force comes through.
    Lines join in faint discord and the stormwatch brews
    a concert of kings, as the white sea snaps
    at the heels of a soft prayer, whispered.
    In the wee hours I’ll meet you, down by Dun Ringill.
    Oh, and we’ll watch the old gods play
    by Dun Ringill, by Dun Ringill."

    (–Lyrics to “Dun Ringill” by Jethro Tull–)

    Stormwatch
    by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

    3 am
    and I’m on stormwatch
    in the Puget Sound,
    listening to the hail gods
    in the distance,
    pelting Evening
    as she lifts her sequin dress
    and runs for the safe haven
    of my front porch,
    Jethro Tull
    notwithstanding…

    Bouts of thunder
    ride the whitecaps
    across the ocean floor like
    the ghosts of Dun Ringill,
    snaking back-talk and
    chain-lightning all around me
    in haste of reaching landfall
    in the dark.

    I try hard to imagine
    the stone circles from where all
    that rage & chaos stems from,
    wonder if the same fear & discord
    that drives dogs underground
    and children under covers
    also makes fish tremble and
    seek dark spaces beyond
    the reach of moonlight.

    Overhead, young Triton
    continues his violent rumbling,
    an upstairs tenant, inconsiderate
    to those of us having to get up
    in a few hours and trudge off to work,
    while he continues to play Spartacus
    sloshing water everywhere,
    a tempest brat in a tub
    mid-tantrum.

    © 2008 by Juanita Lewison-Snyder

  2. Vanessa O'Dwyer

    60 Years

    60 years
    Have lessened
    Tears
    But not
    Dried them
    Away

    60 years
    Allayed some
    Fears
    Why can’t
    We make them
    Stay

    60 years
    Celebrate
    Peers
    Offering
    A better
    Way

    To treat a man
    A woman
    Even
    A child, too

    Because
    Human Rights
    At 60 years
    Exist to
    Celebrate
    You

    Vanessa O’Dwyer

  3. PSC in CT

    Judy,

    Thanks for the kind words! My husband was recently in an auto accident and this poem pretty much captured the experience for me. We sometimes forget, in our living day-to-day how very fragile we all are.

    Your poetry has been so well done and amazing. I’ve enjoyed reading it, and been inspired and awed by your strength and ability to move forward. I wish you well in future.

  4. Peggy Goetz

    Well, I see others are posting late as well. The T-Day prompt really threw me and then we were busy the whole holiday weekend and without Internet Friday-Sunday. So that is my excuse. I tried to keep writing anyway and now try to fit those poems to the prompts. Here is the closest I came to over the top celebration (which is really outside my natural inclinations).

    Lets Hear It

    Lets hear it for the glory
    of people we’ve known all
    our lives, people who can
    see our mothers’ smiles,
    our fathers’ sense of humor,
    an aunt’s flair for color,
    an uncle’s strength of reason.

    Lets hear it for the blessing
    of people who’ve known
    our many seasons, the blaze
    of spring and early summer,
    calmer times of coming fall
    and return anyway. People
    who’ve seen us grow while
    we’ve watched them in
    return.

    Lets hear it for families,
    and friends who feel that way.

  5. k weber

    (revised this, realized i wrote something down wrong)

    hey, listen

    let’s get the slick
    delivery residue
    off of this baby

    the package
    is leaking
    postal anxiety

    the aisles
    are full of weed
    and germs

    a laugh echoes
    out of a canyon’s
    asshole

    heavy metal
    and jibberish permeate
    the dank air

    cut off dreadlocks
    and laughing
    at "sneakers up"

    a belly full
    of witticisms

    generations
    of music history

    automated voice
    messages

    the slack-jawed
    droolers shun
    your style

    while some shithead
    keeps calling
    for herb alpert

    and three people
    come in, cross-
    eyed

    bouncer
    of ceremonies
    keep ’em in line

  6. k weber

    hey, listen

    let’s get the slick
    delivery residue
    off of this baby

    the package
    is leaking
    postal anxiety

    the aisles
    are full of weed
    and germs

    a laugh echoes
    out of a canyon’s
    asshole

    heavy metal
    and jibberish permeate
    the dank air

    cut off dreadlocks
    and laughing
    at "sneakers up"

    a belly full
    of witticisms

    generations
    of music history

    automated voice
    messages

    the cross-eyed
    customers shun
    your style

    while some shithead
    keeps calling
    for herb alpert

    and three people
    come in, cross-
    eyed

    bouncer
    of ceremonies
    keep ’em in line

  7. SaraV

    In Five Years

    We sat at the paper covered tables
    Poised on the edge of adulthood
    And the question came,
    "Where do you see yourself
    in five years?"
    The paper crisp, white
    The pen too skinny for
    My taste, and the ink skipped
    College for four years
    And then?
    Who knew? Not me, for sure
    A farm appeared in my mind
    Sun warm on my back
    Dogs, horses, chickens
    Sweet, dry scent of hay
    And that’s what I wrote
    Now thirty-one years past
    I sit on the grass
    The sun warms my back
    The dog races by
    Then returns to lie panting
    At my side
    A horse whinnies in my
    Neighbor’s pasture
    Geese honk a greeting
    And swim by stately,
    Unhurried
    Squirrels swirl around
    the food bowl
    Jays screech and dive
    And bonus!
    Man of my dreams
    Strolls over
    His cool lips kiss my sun-toasted skin
    Contentedness fills me
    Expanding my heart
    Until it feels
    Like I cannot hold
    All this joy inside
    So I take his hand
    And we dance across
    The grass
    Barefoot and free
    So good, so good,
    So good to me

  8. Jolanta Laurinaitis

    The Restoration

    From the flowing revenge
    New shoots sprout
    They unfurl
    And spring forth
    A new life
    A fragrance
    Of rebirth
    And rejoicing
    The birds sing
    The rainbows form
    And the sun rays
    Touch the mountains
    The Gods laugh
    And the people sing
    Gaia has been restored

  9. Kate Berne Miller

    Restoration

    I dream you and I stumble toward the river
    through a tangle of blackberry brambles, thorns
    scratching at our arms, to stand on the dock in the dark.
    Below us the water churns as hundreds of spawning Sockeye
    swim up the night river, their flesh gone flushed and ragged. Persistent, they shed generous layers of their own lives in pursuit of the future. I hold you firm in the crook
    of my arm. Listen, the salmon are singing.

    Kate Berne Miller

  10. Shann Palmer

    Change

    Make change while the sun sleeps,
    in the light of day all the wrinkles
    will show and stunt your courage
    so do it now, in this shank time.

    While bridesmaids doze, prepare
    for the peace of Jerusalem, prepare
    though it seems unlikely, be aware
    what you least expect can happen.

    It’s possible to bumble in the dark,
    crash into walls, misstep by candle
    even though the house is familiar,
    who stops to count steps and corners?

    Gracefully agitate for transformation-
    if life is dance, poetry is predicament.

  11. S.E.Ingraham

    Judy,
    What a wonderfully generous gift you’ve given to the poets on this site – carefully reading all of our poems and commenting on each one – may you continue to find new blossoms in your wallpaper and elsewhere as long as you seek them. I can’t tell you how much I admire the way you’ve dealt with the pain of your son’s death – every parent’s worse nightmare I’m sure – and how you continue to grow and thrive and love him, through your poetry, your art, your generosity of spirit. You are truly inspiring. Sharon I.

  12. Judy Roney

    Bruce – I just love that you appreciate Christmas music. If there is one thing my husband or children will remember about me, it is my love for Christmas music and how, if there weren‘t other living creatures in my home, I‘d be playing that music year round! I don‘t get tired of it. I laughed when I read your poem and knew we were kindred souls somehow even if I am not an off-key agnostic! LOL I may not remember the words but I will remember your poems content and probably tell people I from time to time about it.

    Lori – congratulations on your wonderful poetry AND your graduation. What an inspiration you are. I have a niece who is a nurse and she’s my hero. Anyone in the helping/caring field is a wonder and a hero. Good luck as you go on for your RN.

    Seingraham – Hallelujah indeed. I can see, be, taste, smell and feel this poem. Such a wonderful poem about a scene that makes me love the holidays so much. This is a scene played out all over the world this time of year and it played out in your poem splendidly. Murphys oil and butter crème frosting. Smells I’m smelling right now after reading. J

    Patti Williams – Such truth and tragedy in your words. Yes, one minute can make the difference in wonder and absolute devastation and you put it so well. “The storms the survivors weather In this life Change each soul forever. With scars and all, the tenacious
    Spirits paint the dark skies With beautiful colors, Always knowing there’s hope
    ”” Been there, done that and thank God for the hope that always manages to shine its light.

    Paul Hankins – Your poem is powerful for me. I lost my son in November and you put thoughts into words that give me closure, too. “December is what November could never be, closure. Wow. “ So many years we cried our way through Nov trying to get a little distance from that month. I love Nov again now but it was a tough fight to reclaim it.

    Susan B – What a hoot this poem is about your monsters (one of them is Robert’s prompts! LOL) and how we are producing now. I happen to agree that our chapbooks are going to make a helluva bang. LOL

    Michelle H – Good reminder to do our part on this earth to keep it clean. I certainly don’t do anywhere near enough. Thanks for the push.

    lain – yours takes Michelle’s reminder to outer space and really makes me think. I read “he wondered what rain felt like…” and I said, wow!

    Mary K – I always look forward to your poetry and your theme on time past, present, and future has given me lots to think about. I love your optimism and the thoughts that we get a new slate in January..a fresh start. I’m so thankful for that and I take it seriously each year. Love this poem.

    satia – Love your name! (whether real or chosen by you) Your poetry tugs at my heart. My husband had a couple of bouts of Vertigo and it just stopped him in his tracks. He was, for the first time, unable to do what he wanted to do and it was an eye opener for him. I hope that they find a cure for yours or at least a reason so you can be treated accordingly. Your poetry spells it out succinctly and I have shared a few with my DH. We send good thoughts to you and say at least some good writing is coming out of this, though I sure wish you didn’t have that inspiration.

    Sara McNulty – Your Thanksgiving poem really socks one in the gut with the reality of those empty chairs. I have been thinking that my family is getting smaller instead of larger as I think it should. No one was filling those empty chairs but I think they are beginning to now. So poignant and thought provoking.

    Heather – I’m so sorry that you are loosing a family member and your poetry reflects it vividly. Its understandable why you couldn’t write a celebration at this time but you wrote something that was right and you were ready for now. Its so sad but such a part of life. {{{{Heather}}}}

    S Scott Whitaker – I got a kick out of your leg poem not because I couldn’t feel your pain in the situation but because of the spin you took with it and found such a great thing to celebrate “Cheers to the leg, and the allowance
    It gives one to become still
    for a while, and listen.
    ”That situation isn’t good but the allowance sure is.

    Steve Lavoy – A new tag line now for me..a Wussie Party. Thanks for a new look at parties. I never thought there was such a thing but you make it clear. I hope there is a houseful at this celebration. I never met a Wussie I didn’t like, personally. LOL

    AC Leming – Wow, your poem blew me out of this world. I didn’t want to go but you made it sound so doable.

    Cheryl Chambers – You hit a nerve here. Our responsibility for happiness. I need to read yours over again because it didn’t soak in but I will enjoy each word again.
    Margaret Fieland – OMG, Margaret! Although the foods changed names, you were sending my night and morning back to me in poetry. Sad poetry, but poetry. I will not skip dinner though and I will be searching for what I can eat and not make myself sick in the process. Don’t you just love this time of year. It seems that this kind of life is almost acceptable at Thanksgiving.LOL

    PSC in Ct – Your poem is a blast to my senses. So real and so well written. I have to go touch my husband’s face after this and make sure he is OK. We never know and you make it so clear even in metaphor.

    Tyger – I love your poem and all that you are giving up..those grumpy mornings and cussing. LOL I’m glad you are so hopeful now.

  13. Earl Parsons

    Judy – Long winded or not, thanks for the nice words. I must say, however, that my wife slept in because she had to work. Besides, I shop with a plan, whether or not it works out. I did go for a second helping that afternoon and got some great deals.

  14. Tyger

    Can’t seem to post today. Here’s my 3rd attempt:

    My Resolution

    I can’t get up cussing anymore
    Or greet the morning with my bad moods
    Although the light bill is due
    And my paycheck isn’t until next Wednesday
    I can’t play Eeyore with droopy ears
    Or grumble for my coffee like Garfield
    No matter that I’m alone
    To put food on my table
    And care for my sick child
    I can’t wallow in self pity
    Or ingratitude
    Because somewhere along the way
    I got everything I wished for
    Or almost, anyway
    Since I’m still waiting for that
    Sixtieth senate seat
    With crossed fingers and toes for Tuesday
    But I’m riding this democratic wave
    On a surfboard of triumph
    Let’s just hope I don’t spill
    Because the sharks are waiting…

  15. Jane penland hoover

    Judy,
    Thanks for your reading and commenting – words seem to be just right here – always enjoyed reading comments that speak to something specific in another’s work and try to offer that on occasion. Everyone so supportive it makes me want to write more. Hooray – for a full month with everyone here.

  16. Tyger

    My Resolution

    I can’t get up cussing anymore
    Or greet the morning with my bad moods
    Although the light bill is due
    And my paycheck isn’t until next Wednesday
    I can’t play Eeyore with droopy ears
    Or grumble for my coffee like Garfield
    No matter that I’m alone
    To put food on my table
    And care for my sick child
    I can’t wallow in self pity
    Or ingratitude
    Because somewhere along the way
    I got everything I wished for
    Or almost, anyway
    Since I’m still waiting for that
    Sixtieth senate seat
    With crossed fingers and toes for Tuesday
    But I’m riding this democratic wave
    On a surfboard of triumph
    Let’s just hope I don’t spill
    Because the sharks are waiting…

  17. PSC in CT

    A Dance with Death

    Such a terrible shock you gave me
    When Death tapped your shoulder at the ball
    And you accepted his offer to dance
    How could you – when you were promised to me?

    I’d intended to ask you — was ready to offer –
    Poised with words on lips and tip of tongue
    But he got there first
    And you acquiesced

    Angered and appalled, breath frozen, heart stilled
    Fists tightly clenched, lips bitten to bleeding
    I waited and watched while you two
    Danced a delicate and tentative pas de deux
    Ready to storm the floor and offer a duel to Death

    But, when the music ended, he
    Sauntered you back to me, and
    Left the ball – alone

    I know that it’s so
    That, one day, one of us will stay
    And one will go

    But for now, I smile brightly
    Touch your face, thankful
    Clasp your hand, grateful
    Spin with you in giddy abandon
    In gratitude and celebration
    I rejoice
    That it’s not today
    Not today

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