Today’s prompt comes from Maxie Steer.
Here’s Maxie’s prompt: Take the phrase “How to (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem.
Robert’s attempt at a How-to Poem:
“How to Woo”
Confess the world returned upon first sight,
but more than that, you swallowed the universe whole,
and now, your dreams, once an endless summer
of soap opera re-runs, are prime time HBO,
or in other words, food has flavor again, flowers
beckon, and the moon is a long lost friend, so that
these words that crash against the shores of your heart
can’t be placated with anything less than a kiss,
a touch, a dance in the fields of chance.
*****
Thank you, Maxie, for the how-to prompt! Click here to learn more about Maxie.
Click here if you prefer using the WD Forum for sharing your poems/comments.
*****
Follow me on Twitter @robertleebrewer
*****
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been writing but now catching up on posting
How to Tune out Tunes
I used to love Christmas
Fall fading free
Winter bright renewal
Now all seasons blur
Fall fading free
As leaves fall carols sound
Now all seasons blue
Masks, turkeys, carols – all one
As leaves fall carols sound
Tuning out early
Masks, turkeys, carols – all one
In a season stew
Tuning out early
Winter bright renewal?
In a season stew
I used to love Christmas
How to Cause a Riot
Be sure to pack your red paint,
because
it’s more an art than a science,
before hitting the town.
It’s an enigmatic thing,
causing fear
and liberation in one simple cocktail.
It’s simple,
really,
just stand up and do it.
Become more than the flames and smell of sweat.
Become a part of the sky
and the blood-red asphalt.
Become the hungry consumer
built by homegrown
violence.
Embrace the
inequality and injustice
you so broadly paint on the face of the world.
Then,
become blind.
Become blind to the holding of hands,
the warm embraces,
the business of people.
Look for the weak,
prey on the meek,
seek and destroy the prayerful.
Then,
when all is said and done,
march.
March over them all.
Day 17
Prompt: How-to
How to Enjoy Morning Coffee
Make hazelnut.
Add skim milk, sparingly.
Sip.
If it gets too cool, nuke it.
Nurse it over your grocery list or to-do’s.
Use it to accompany morning devotions.
Make more if needed.
Pour an extra mug,
just in case,
for the afternoon,
before your son drinks up the pot.
Robert, one of your most beautiful poems ever. Really. Stunning.
How to Run Out of Kind Words
Spend them like change
pushed in a vending machine
for a bag of salty chips.
How to Bake a Song
First contact all our shy bakers
in the world. Ask what they sing
at 3AM when they bake you
bread and muffins. Take your
fiddle to a pebbled road
at high noon. Keep playing
even if travelers consider
you vulgar. Every half-an-
hour peek under the old
oak by the side of the road.
On day 14 you’ll find a
baked song.
How to Fall From Grace
Start slowly,
by forgetting the little things;
Forget to call,
beg off on a date
be unimpressed with the latest news…
Then ramp it up;
Ignore phone calls,
don’t return them for weeks,
be unavailable…for anything
at anytime…
Finally,
complete communication termination
except when forced
and then use extreme politeness
with a touch of boredom…
and then your in-laws will finally
leave you alone
about having that next baby.
HOW TO SPEND MY TIME
(Day 17)
How to spend the day when
all I want to do is snuggle
up under these sheets,
loose myself in remembering.
How to spend the evening when
all I want to do is sit by the fire
the heat mottling my legs,
my head full with remembering.
How to spend my life now
you are gone when every minute
every day, every night
reminds me, when remembering.
How to Eat a Twinkie…
Soon!
How to chop wood – the tin man’s explanation
Chopping wood is an intimate affair
involving the cutter, the wood and
his tools.
Careful observation will tell you
which way the grain will yield
and which way it will stand fast,
the density of the wood telling you
how much force will be needed
to split it.
The axiom
spend five minutes
sharpening for every minute
cutting is more than
applicable,
the axiomatic cutting at the branches
versus hacking
at the roots
less so,
for chopping is not clearing brush
and neither is it sawing,
chopping is a means of
breaking down to constituent parts,
a way of burning away
to the essence of a thing,
its heat heating your body, your food
exactly what an individual needs
to survive.
So yes dear
when I called you nothing
but dead wood
believe me
I was only
sharpening
my ax.
How to Peel an Egg
Put your thumb in;
make a crazed dent
in a world made of
chalk, white as that
and as dead, because
no rooster was present,
no chick begun like a
wet, unraveling spark.
Think about those
hundred year eggs,
or tea eggs, all the
many ways an egg
can be etched by time
and yet, somehow, too,
preserved. Think what
a shame it is, to break
something so complete;
slide a thumbnail now,
lift off shell and also
membrane, that skin
meant to protect against
predators like you. But
protect what? It’s a dead
letter, a false promise,
something silent that
should not be so inert,
lying there on the plate
naked, without feathers.
How to write a poem under pressure
Use a rhyming dictionary.
Ignore the lovely man you married.
Write about kids, pigs or roses.
Kill no subjects in the process.
Don’t confess to any crimes.
Pray the words you use will rhyme.
Hope your piece garners some praise
or watch it die in cyberspace.
How To Shovel Snow
Forget those snow throwing devices,
A T-Square or two suffices.
From the back of each rim,
Cut a path, straight and trim,
And back out before the track ices.
HOW TO SUCCEED (FOR ALL SKILL LEVELS)
Don’t bail
When you fail.
I wrote two poems for this prompt. You will find them here: http://hopefuljo.wordpress.com/2012/11/17/365-creativity-project-day-313/
Robert, your piece today is just lovely!
How To Live
The heart is a crippled leader, yet I follow it to places that my heart would never allow me to go;
To the most dangerous cliffs and treacherous trails
I freely climb, no begrudging steps.
I follow my heart into the depths
Of darkest caves and steep crevasse
Plunging into its icy bath,
Into the desert’s hot, dry air
I’ll follow this heart anywhere.
Your opening line is absolutely grand. Great poem here.
Marie Elena
So many instructions, so little time.
How to Learn to Smile
Turn off judgment
Lest its glare cause
Preconception’s distrust.
Open your heart’s door
To possibilities
Unexpected, unexplored.
Use your rib’s cage
To capture humanity’s
Sunshine qualities.
Exercise mouth’s muscles
Lifting, stretching
Beaming joy to all.
Sleep with gratitude
After counting blessings
Accumulated along the way.
AWWW! i like!
So much wisdom captured here, my friend.
HOW TO FEEL
(a shadorma)
You didn’t
tell me what to think,
what to feel,
or believe.
However, you taught me how
to feel: with my heart.
How to Submit to Rationality
Empty your hearts and minds (and pockets)-
Their contents now belong to us
Free yourself from doubt, worry, expectation,
And all notion of sense
Embrace the numb that cascades over the whole
Where your soul once danced
Your wants will be needs, and those will be provided,
But look not beyond your desires
For solutions may be sought, but only be found within;
Society without is burdened by reason
“How To Hammock”
(a Triolet poem)
Rolling in and tumbling out
It’s quite a humorous act
To laze away an afternoon swinging about
Rolling in and tumbling out
Worth each awkward effort, no doubt
Lying ‘neath shade tree canopy, sacked
Rolling in and tumbling out
It’s quite a humorous act
How to Cultivate a Quiet Core
Shed this sorry skin, these weighted cells
and dizzy spells of no, and now and how.
Stain self in salt water, siren song and ink,
think in nothing more than whispered whim.
Cling to nothing; fling all fast and loose and
far and wide, and cry not for its passing.
Climb the closest, tallest tree and trace her
roots to limbs, imprint her bark into your smile.
This is just beautiful.
MMmmmmmmm …. indeed …
How to Smile
What makes us wonder
what makes is look
what makes us understand
the deepest heart that gets struck
Open up your mind
open up your eyes
open up your world
dont get stuck
Wilderness all around
twinkling tingling heart pound
breathless voices
emtpy choices
Walking along the line
what was once there
is now in decline
fresh smell of pine
Hands held together
patience is on the run
smiling on as he watches her have fun
words written
he is smitten
curling up inside
his heart she has bitten
“How to make quiche”
Set frozen crusts to heat.
Make coffee in the press.
Open the cottage cheese.
Kiss the back of the neck
while the knife chops the leek.
Spill out a lot of eggs.
Before frying bacon,
replace shirt and leggings—
or just wear an apron.
Retain a skosh of grease.
To meld the roue, combine
everything in a pile.
Four-handedly stir in
salt, spices and a smile.
Then fill the shells. Perfect.
Recline entwined a while.
Soon you will taste the smell.
I love this, Daniel! Sounds like a perfect recipe.
Oh, yeah
“How to disagree like a man”
When I go home, my dad embraces me in a transcendence
of gladness that I’ve come back from the distances of grown-up life.
In a parallel universe a short putt from here, his engineering artwork
is often at the Guggenheim, and he may have even voted democrat,
but in this universe, he was career Air Force. And he put
clothes on us, food on our table, and my three brothers and I
through college. He is a present and a loving father,
and everyone who meets him says they love my father.
“I love your dad!” Of course. We disagree about what government
should do, but why should that matter? It troubles me that he holds
such certainty about who in at fault in the Middle East
when to me the situation has deep and troubling subtlety.
But this is not larger than love. He does not feel that same-sex
couples should marry, and I find that position as indefensible
as pointing down and calling it up. See,
This is the lesson I want now that he’s taught me to be grown up
and a man: how to disagree in the larger embrace of love.
I need to learn this. If I can model gentle acceptance of him
with his opinions as they are, then maybe I can model
acceptance of those who are different (which to me seems
lacking in the right-wing gestalt); but I can’t have that intention.
I just want to hold the disagreement in the larger embrace of love.
If I can do that, I think it will do my father proud.
FangO
Poetic Asides November Challenge – Day 17
How to ______ (Replace blank with word or phrase, and make it the title)
How To Break A Spate of Depression
Remain removed from blue
colors. Ignore the sky, do not
gaze into opaque oceans
imagining layers underneath–
not while you soak in sadness.
Steamy showers soften
skin, open pores. Step out
into cool air; refresh
your outside and work inward.
Sift through songs that lift
your voice to match their beat.
Find funny cartoons in magazines.
Force your feet to walk outdoors
in long strides. Notice nature
in greenery and flowers. Pet
pups you chance to meet,
and exchange words with
strangers. See how you fit
into the world.
Heartbreakingly beautiful, Sara. <3 And good advice, too.
Depression being a familiar struggle, this is great advice, nicely said.
Thank you for the prompt, Maxine…and for the post, Robert. Happy weekend to you all.
http://wordrustling.wordpress.com/2012/11/17/day-seventeen-how-toa-haiku/
How to Lie
You don’t really have to believe
what you say. Actually, it’s better
if you don’t. What you do have
to believe is that truth is a dangerous
thing, not to be trusted. Truth hurts.
Then you just have to pay attention.
To every word, every raised eyebrow,
every angry question. You have to know,
before you speak, if you are saying
the right thing, the thing that will keep
you safe. You have to be ready with
the right answer. Don’t look away, don’t
blink, don’t touch your face.
The trouble is, if you get good at it,
if you protect yourself, it becomes
reflexive. You may as well try
to stop blinking.
Indeed, truth can hurt in different ways….
How to Pray
I don’t know any other place to be
except here, on my knees, as soon
as I can find some space for myself.
It doesn’t have to be in a church; I
learned that from a wise person,
early on. God doesn’t care where
you are, but He sees you there, and
He knows your name, everything
about you, and He loves you in spite
of yourself. I kneel and lift my hands
and bow my head and exalt the One
who is faithful to His promises even
when I am unfaithful to Him—in
silence, I ask His pardon for all of
my transgressions, my rebellious
choices that flout His statutes—
they exist, I know, only for my good.
But for His mercy, the sun doesn’t
rise on its own every day, and the
stars don’t sparkle by themselves,
and I know I can’t be anywhere else
but here, on my knees, in bowed
surrender at His throne, where I find
grace to help me in my time of need.
How to Get to Start
How to get to start when all you look for is the past?
You tilt your head and look back.
Do you think what if?
Or do you wonder about that different path?
You can’t look back.
Trust me, you are not the only one.
All others are loathing in silence.
You can only hear you voice.
It can’t be your only guidance.
That’s why you feel you are the only one.
Look up.
Don’t look back.
Who cares?
You do. I know you do.
But how to get to start when all you look for is the past?
Yup, that past can be an anvil tied to your ankle.
HOW TO LEARN TO LOVE THE RAIN
(EVEN IF YOU’RE NOT A HUGE FAN.)
Don new raincoat, red
Hood up, open door.
Walk outside, wet
feel chill on face, cold
Blink eyes against mist
hands in pockets deep
Steps long to keep warm
pray my toes to keep.
Taking breaths, rich
with autumnal loam
I lift my face to
the leaves in full poem
Extravagant hues
with names I don’t know
start pushing blood through
this heart no more cold.
Returning now home
with thanks in my chest
I smile at my God
“You say things the best.”
My fingers wrap ‘round
a steaming hot cup
I stare at my tree
watch as the rain drops
The poplar leaves dip
and shake like a bird
at each tiny drip
as rain showers through.
I see You now, God
even in rain
and hope that my soul
is never the same.
melting snow
learning how
to let go
Nice!
How to Make Perfect
Ask yourself if perfection
exists in anything.
Overanalyze your own
response seeking
positive reinforcement
externally.
Create an ideal vision
internally.
Formulate a plan.
Understand
that in this instance
and with this issue
there is no right or wrong.
When all else fails
practice.
By Michael Grove
LOL! We are a family of overthinkers, your poem comes to a healthy conclusion much sooner than i usually do.
Robert, EVERY DAY i read your poem and i say, “how does he DO that?” You are amazing!
Today’s reading has been so enjoyable, and i have to admit i feel a bit embarrassed about commenting as i don’t consider myself a “real” poet, but i figure everyone likes to know when someone appreciates their writing, right?
Back later!
Before posting my poem for today, let me say something of offerings that impressed me:
RJ with Shopping on Black Friday, and of course
Walt with Shopping on Black Fiday: I know it’s a bit unusual, but I’m not the “wife” who would do all RJ has described, I’ll take your suggested course of action
De, your triptich rocked me:-), and
Viv the perfect cake is just too perfect! (BTW, do you really have to put equal weights?)
Now, here is my poem:
###
How to say I’m sorry
biting my lips, blinking sleepless eyes
they itch and sting with fear and foreboding;
twitches in my chest, mad butterflies
fluttering their crazy “hello’s”
in my veins,
with gritting teeth, and swooning heart
the shake in my knees
that I feel every time
I see I have to confess
All those are
small pebbles
compared to the huge abyss
I see
in my feet, I can’t cross the crevice
running in my mind
and see the dumb perspective,
the loony alphabet of misery,
explaining all the reasons why
this heart won’t run on water.
I love this pink champagne
and the bubbles
going on and off,
not saying “sorry”, or “forgive me”
Pink champagne is my excuse
to find a better use
to poetry
than writing manuals on
How to say “I’m sorry.”
###
I always argue that Autumn is a time of high winds, and the leaves will all blow away if you leave them alone. And they do.
Maria: yes flour, fat, sugar should equal the weight of your eggs in the shells. Why? Because the weight of eggs varies, and big/small eggs can throw out the proportions of the other ingredients if you just say eg 8 oz of each ingredient plus 4 eggs. I can’t get on with this cup business for the same reason. I have a lovely little electronic scale which seems always to be in use. A good cake is a poem in itself.
That’s really interesting about the cake, Viv. Huh.
HOW TO LISTEN TO DREAMS
The old dog startles from sleep
on his cedar-bed. He grumbles low
in his throat, almost
a growl. What dreams woke him?
Nightmare is a closet shadow,
labyrinth, or your hand
groping for a splinter, foxtail, shard,
exploding rocks. Door-locks
have teeth. What terrors
dominate a dog’s dreams? He has no
words but the flare in his eye.
You’ve had such dreams
refusing speech, and woken up
trying to grab the word
by the throat but it’s escaped
between door and sill, clutching its
knife, its knowledge lost
on the journey to words. The old
dog gives chase,
disappearing into the dark.
i love “You’ve had such dreams/refusing speech, and woken up/trying to grab the word /by the throat” Such a great visual!
HOW TO STOP THE BLEEDING
a simple sequence
that brings healing
starts with pain.
Breathe, if you can.
because many deaths
are born in such labor,
put mourning aside.
Breathe, if you can.
find the string tied
around your finger,
remember the future you desire.
Breathe, if you can.
the coagulant is not
happiness, it is consciousness.
be awake and
Breathe, if you can.
find a hand once bloodied
and pierced, but now cleansed
to hold you and seal your wounds
with love. find it. hold it.
Breathe, if you can.
Maxie, this gave me chills. Beautiful and carries so much truth.
“How to age”
I start my car and see her,
she is standing in the doorway waving
like a child waves
when parents leave for a weekend away.
I know her wave is saying don’t leave me
alone with him. He has hurried inside the
house. I spied him piling some of her
stuff into my trunk, the stuff he doesn’t want,
his way of saying
I’m sending her with you and
I don’t want you to leave me alone with her.
I back down the driveway
feeling so very old
so very very old.
OH. So well said.
17 How to read your hands…. (Haibun)
When the hands move they speak words the lips cannot say painting pictures of what is seen, events at work and play. Moving hands pull the eyes towards understanding, convey longings and hopes. They shout, sing and whisper. Build stories as threads are woven. Bring sunshine, an autumn breeze, a winter storm into a room. They speak of joy, laughter, sadness and tears. They describe a baby’s tiny hand.
When hands come to rest
as their flying movements cease,
there is a silence.
Gorgeous!!
Nov 17: make “how to … ” the title of your poem.
How to Lose Your Mind
Lay it on the kitchen counter
beside your car keys.
When you return,
both are gone.
Take out your cell phone
to make a call.
Forget both
in the drug store.
Dig your wallet
out of your purse.
Take out your brains
along with the junk.
Collect trash,
take it to dump.
Leave brains
on heap with recycling.
Remove rational thought
along with glasses.
Lay both on night stand.
Forget about both.
Stumble into kitchen
find brains on counter.
Heave sigh of relief
at temporary reprieve.
.Margaret Fieland
LOL!! Oh how i sympathize with and TOTally relate to this one!
How to Forgive Yourself
Stand
in
front of
a mirror
in all your you-ness,
look yourself in the eye and say,
“I give you permission to be human. I love you.”
Ellen Knight
i love this! (and have this conversation with myself frequently.)
Oops, “Mix it up from powder”
knew what you meant.
How to Paint
Set up a surface,
whether canvas,
paper or weathered
wood doesn’t
matter, at least
not at first.
Next, squeeze
out a bright
worm of color,
or mix it up
from power
with medium
and binder.
Invite your
thoughts to
depart, opening
to other
forces beyond
them.
Then, pick
up the brush.
i love the simplicity. And the way you’ve laid it out gives me such a sense of the thoughtfulness of the process.
How to Dance Without Music
1. Pick someone you’ve known most of your life,
or someone you wish you had.
2. Have a gently rocking rhythm in your head.
Think of Unchained Melody, Always and Forever,
The Way You Look Tonight.
3. Hold her, left hand clasping right,
the other hand on the small of her back.
4. Slowly sway, with your favorite song
playing through your brain. (Chances are,
she will hear the same song.)
5. Hold her closer.
6. Closer.
Whoooo, fun.
Awwww! So sweet….
How to Fall
Forget feet,
surrender all.
How to Fly
Let go,
don’t try.
How to Flee
Open door,
follow me.
.
OOOH!
How to Avoid Raking
Walk the perimeters of the raking space
and catalog the trees—maples, hickory,
sycamore, dogwood, myrtle, gingko,
crabapple, pine and cedar, oak.
Count, that’s ten excuses not to start.
Let the flaming beauties decorate
before you think of fueling a blower.
Sit back, breathe in sky, humming
gold red peach. Colors last
only a few weeks. No hurry.
When you can see sky through limbs,
your wife starts. The colors are down
like diaphanous veils dropping
until the trees stand, naked trunks,
gray with cold. There is a wind.
Walk the perimeters blowing the driveway.
The gingko holds her golden leaves
until first frost, then drops her whole
cloak, like a stripper keen on impact.
Is it time? There are still the oaks.
You have reservations about saving grass.
The woods don’t care if leaves fall down.
That sweep of green bullies you now;
you think of all the mowing, edging, weed-eating
just to maintain green beneath those trees.
Your wife talks leaves incessantly. You hedge.
The oaks, you say. But she recites her autumn
mantra, that oaks are staid and prudish trees
like old Puritans who bathe in their clothes.
They won’t drop their leaves until new ones push
them off by force or winter winds fleece them
of tentative flutter. Leaves, she says, leaves,
lawn, mess, leaves, blow, rake, leaves, and so
you spend a sad dayof repentence, slowly
assembling rakes, blowers, mulchers,
praising tree, but cursing leaf, your wife
beside behind nearby around you,
encouraging until you set to work.
She leaves.
Love this.
You’ve made me realize just how much i love poems about trees and leaves! Even poems involving a lot of work.
HOW TO MAKE A PERFECT CAKE
Take four eggs and weigh them in their shells,
blend with the same weight of richer butter
add sweetness with an equal weight of sugar.
Take a deep breath, use a flexible whisk
and forceful energy to beat the hell out of them
until the mix dramatically becomes light and fluffy
The tricks of the trade
require you now to replace
energy with lightness, tenderness and love.
Sift the same weight of plain flour,
with a teaspoon of baking powder
into your frothy batter,
holding it high above the bowl
so that it falls like white rain.
Push the hair out of your eyes
with the back of your hand
and exchange whisk for metal spoon.
Gently, lightly, turn your wrist
over and over until the flour merges
and all is smooth again.
Your oven is ready, hot but not too hot,
Two loose-bottomed tins are lined
with baking parchment.
Divide the pale mixture quietly
between the tins, and place
in the middle part of the oven,
being careful not to joggle them.
Now you must be patient.
Glance in on them from time to time -
you don’t want them to burst into flames -
but you mustn’t open the door.
I repeat, do not keep opening the door.
When the cakes have risen evenly,
and acquired an all over light tan,
now you can open the door.
Reach in with hesitant finger
and gingerly touch the middle.
Each perfectly cooked cake
will spring back at once,
to where it was before you prodded it.
Take out your luscious booty,
stand the tins on a board for a breather.
Now you must be brave.
Push up the bottom of each tin,
and cautiously slide the cake
in its paper onto a wire rack.
Remove the rings and paper
and wait another little while
until they’re cool.
Spread home-made jam –
any flavour will do – on one;
slap on a dollop of thick cream,
stack the other one on top,
lightly dust with caster sugar
and enjoy your teatime treat -
the perfect Victoria Sponge.
You made me hungry!!
Oh that’s a yummy cake! My daughter is married to an Englishman, and she made that when i was visiting. i must say though, i must be the Bigfoot of bakery and you’re the delicate fairy! i’m more of a throw-it-all-in-the-Kitchenaid sort of cake maker.
Nov 17
How to Frustrate
Join a pad of folks that share online
Enjoy the writings – most sublime
Wishing for more time at the close of the day
More minutes to read and leave my say
Finally late in the night, when the chores are done
Worked up the courage, give it a go – have a little fun
Click the submit, and all I get
Your posting too fast – you idiot
Finally get it all to work and it posts in success
I wrench my hands with hallelujahs and YES
As I try to get some rest, sleep before the next day
Now my mind shutters – does anyone read – yesterday?
Amen! My frustration is boundless
“posting too fast–you idiot” made me laugh!!
How to Plant a Rose Bush
How to plant a rose bush
Plant with care
Even on the smallest bush
You will find some thorns – beware!
Do you know where you will place it?
Take some time to look around
Can you see it from a window?
Does the spot have fertile ground?
Dig the hole deeply,
Also make it wide
Fill part of it with compost
Then tuck the bush inside.
Add your best soil, keep
Adding soil until it stand alone
Then water deeply , and let it drain
Then add your compost- ground up bone
Don’t be afraid to trim it back
For its long winter sleep
Keep it covered with fallen leaves
Til the first buds of Springtime peek.
How to Survive a Broken Heart
At first you are sure that no one, no one
could possibly understand the depth of
your pain. And they really can’t, because they
are not you. Part of your mind says “This is
not happening,” but it is, and real
-ity feels intrusive and alien.
“Who are these people, and why do they keep
calling me mommy?” Even the kids seem
strange, like they should be changed too, somehow, or
they should stop needing everything they need.
Part of you decides the best thing to do
is to pretend everything is fine just
fine and carry on as if it is still
all fine just fine and meanwhile, inter
-minably, your heart is screaming so hard.
And there is a mental shift, and you start
to become furious, livid, that he/she
did this to you, made you become this in
(-sane)
–dividual whose life seems to be
falling apart, whose reality has crashed.
And in the process of gathering your
-self together there is an internal
monologue that is saying crazy stuff
like, “If I was better, if I was good,
if I were only who I should have been, then…”
and you know this is crazy, but at the
same time it seems to make a kind of sense
somehow, that this is your fault and if on
-ly you had changed, it would all be okay.
But it’s not. And as the reality of
your new life begins to set in, without
the person who left (you all alone, a
-lone) it is difficult to eat, sleep, breathe
even, or simply carry on. “Why try?”
Your heart tries its best to just give up, to
tell itself to stop beating, to let the
grief win. And you wonder how to survive
this broken heart. How? You simply must. And
so you do.
ACK! So vivid, so good! and i love your word breaks, like
“did this to you, made you become this in
(-sane)
–dividual whose life seems to be”
And the whole part about the children, the whole poem is so very cool. i can only hope it’s not autobiographical, but wow–
Thank you, Julie! But unfortunately, the only way to write about pain is to have felt it. The good thing is that it makes one a deeper more sympathetic person, and if nothing else, one hopes a better writer. ^_^
OH. i’m so sorry, but i’m glad you’ve allowed it to make you sympathetic rather than bitter, and to be able to write down that pain in such great images, and in such style.
How to make an easy-peasy villanelle
Just take the A line in your left hand,
and with a few spare mono-rhymes tucked behind your ear,
pick the B up with your right hand.
This looks like it takes all the limberness you can command,
but keep the first step clear:
Just take the A line in your left hand,
and without making your gestures too grand,
while keeping that left line near
pick the B up with your right hand.
This is easier if your rhymes are planned
ahead, but even if they weren’t don’t fear,
just take the A line in your left hand
and hokey pokey a bit while the band
cuts loose a while. You’re almost here.
Pick the B up with your right hand.
You will notice that nothing has changed. You began
with–and still have–two lines, and that batch of spares:
Just keep the A line in your left hand
and pick the B up with your right.
Perfect tutorial.
i’ll have to go look up what that is, but i love the imagery even in my ignorance!
How to make love to a landscape
Begin at the crest of the Achilles
and visit the entire length of her.
Treat each long limb with awe
like the magnificent branches
at the top of a canyon.
Relish the intricate angles
the light and shade
of her hip, her breast,
the hollow of her back.
Tell the truth about it all.
With one finger, trace
her high cheekbones,
her collarbone and shoulder.
Breathe the quiet air
and do not insist.
AHEM…. (fannning myself….) Lovely!
wow–i see “fanning” got away from me there! i was so busy fanning….
Your poem made me melt.
How to Make a Memory
How does one make a memory?
With certain people, it’s easy.
Take them, and you, and add some fun;
Seize some old idea and run,
But don’t leave anyone behind.
Stay hand-in-hand, and you will find
Yourself awhirl with cheerfulness.
Don’t over-think, don’t second guess;
Just let the day flow as it will.
Soon you’ll hit the crest of the hill
And looking back, see a display
Of all the wonder of the day.
Seal the moment with a shared smile,
And cherish your new memory awhile.
i just love this.
Thank you! Glad you enjoyed it.
How to Shop on Black Friday (A Guy’s Eye View
Stay in bed,
rest your head,
let the wife go
shop instead!,
With apologies to RJ!
i’m with you on this one, Walt–shoppers in hoards are mean and crazy!
How to Invoke the Light
The simplest solution to your problems
and challenges, major or minor, real or imagined—
just add light. That spider web invisible
as monofilament fishing line stretched
stretched from the reading table to the ceiling
catches the sunbeams through the window
just long enough for me to sweep it free.
These stockings—maybe black, maybe blue–
impossible to discern in the morning
until you switch on the table lamp, hold them
close to my skirt in the light to match.
The faint note on the back of the photograph,
a name, a place, perhaps a date,
so dim now, almost faded, but held close
under a bright light, you see, jotting down
the words while you still can, filing the note
with the picture so someone else can see
without squinting under magnifying glass,
a captured moment rendered meaningful.
In pressing the light into service, take care
not to look too close if you fear flinching
at what you find there. Use softer light
and call them laugh lines and candlelight
to camouflage anxious glances, to fill
those cold, forbidding silent spaces.
Love these thoughts, especially the photograph one! (and i refuse to think about the “laugh lines” one.)
How to Shop on Black Friday
Arm yourself and gird your loins!
Bring credit cards and cash and coins.
Prepare to stand and wait on line.
Black Friday shopping, by design.
Doorbusters start quite early, so
camp out. You’ll be the first to go
right through the doors while others whine.
Black Friday shopping, by design.
Then grab up bargains. Quickly or
someone will beat you. That’s for sure.
Ignore the jerk who screams, “That’s mine!”
Black Friday shopping, by design.
You know the drill. Just buy those things
like Furbies, TVs, diamond rings.
But if this scene says, ‘Disincline’…
Black Friday this year, buy online.
###
AMEN!!
How to hurt your team
One way
to hurt your team,
is to earn a red card
early, leaving your team with just
ten men.
Did that happen to you, Rob? Awwww
HOW TO READ RJ CLARKEN’S POEMS
Begin to read.
Start to smile.
Nod your head.
Grin Broadly.
Laugh like hell.
Say “I wish
I had written that!”
I so totally ♥ you, Walt! (How to make a girlpoet feel good!)
HAHAHA!! My thoughts were flowing along those lines!
Walt, AGREED. But I also feel that way about YOURS.
How to Get Rid of Hiccups
While drinking water, use a straw;
then block your ears. Hiccups withdraw.
If unsuccessful, remedies
are plentiful. Try one of these:
Take nine or ten sips from a glass.
Your body should make hiccups pass.
If unsuccessful, remedies
are plentiful. Try one of these:
You take a deep breath; count to ten.
Your hiccups should be gone by then.
If unsuccessful, remedies
are plentiful. Try one of these:
A knuckle on your middle finger?
Simply squeeze. Hiccups won’t linger.
If unsuccessful, remedies
are plentiful. Try one of these:
Just take a paper bag and place
it over your entire red face.
Breathe deep. If it fails, remedies
are plentiful. Try one of these:
Enlist a friend to scare the damn
bejoobers from your diaphragm.
If unsuccessful, remedies
are plentiful. Try one of these:
Do cough, sneeze, burp – or something like
those things – your hiccups take a hike.
If unsuccessful, remedies
are plentiful. Try one of these:
Some vinegar or sugar might
just make your hiccups say goodnight.
If unsuccessful, remedies
are plentiful. Try one of these:
And yes! Some peanut butter can
work wonders. Make this your game plan
to rid yourself of hiccups. Please
use your own cure – or one of these.
###
How to Fold a Fitted Sheet
How do you fold a fitted sheet?
Is there a blueprint for this feat?
I fold: it still looks like a ball.
I cannot ‘get’ it. That is all.
Tuck in corners, follow creases.
My frustration never ceases.
It is a mess. Looks like a brawl.
I cannot ‘get’ it. That is all.
While in its package, it’s just right:
perfect, neat and oh-so-tight.
I take it out – that’s my pitfall.
I cannot ‘get’ it. That is all.
Some videos on YouTube show
you how to keep sheet status quo.
It doesn’t matter. I just stall.
I cannot ‘get’ it. That is all.
###
LOL absolutely brilliant!
my mom can do it perfectly…..apparently the skill skips a generation.
Thanks! And yep – my mom does it perfectly too. I guess I didn’t get the gene.
Ahahahaha my roommate and I were talking about this not long ago. We’re both totally hopeless. Never thought of looking for a Youtube video on it, though . . .
i’ve given up, deciding that i will never have Martha Stewart-like stacks of beautifully folded sheets.
Delightful! The rhythm reminds me of Dr. Seuss. I especially enjoyed how you took a boring mundane activity and turned it into art!
RJ, great source of amusement, your poem! I can fold fitted sheets but stink at t-shirts. Go figure. But I was taught by a master sheet-folder and bed-maker.
How to Grieve a Father’s Heart
I don’t know how old I was,
maybe seven or eight, when one night,
in the dead of Pennsylvania winter
our coal furnace went out, and frost,
usually delegated to the back room,
painted all the windows.
My teeth chattered and I said how cold I was.
Pain registered on my dad’s pinched brow
and he asked, “Are you trying to make me feel bad?”
I was shocked. I had no idea
he felt he had anything to do with my being cold.
In that moment, I saw all my dad did—
work at the steel mill
hunt and fish
raise a garden
take care of the house and yard—
came from a responsible, loving father’s heart,
which I had grieved with my simple words of complaint,
kind of like the Israelites in the wilderness
when they grumbled against God.
Wow! What a vivid scene you just painted with your words!
Fantastic. I remember just that look on my mother’s face.
How to See the Magic
Patiently, watch as the light
builds within a mind that has
known only darkness
Whisper words of encouragement -
You can…You will…You have…
with great sincerity
Demonstrate that mistakes
are simply new ways to learn
not evidence of failure
Then, when the day arrives -
when the magic happens
and words string together
When pen and ink form
letters, words, sentences
that all can understand -
Celebrate!
Celebrate, indeed! I ♥ magic!
“Demonstrate that mistakes
are simply new ways to learn
not evidence of failure”
SO key! Thanks for saying it. And it’s good to know that mistakes can be part of magic.
Thanks, Julie! Yes, without mistakes we wouldn’t have magic! Sometimes it is the actual failure that brings about the magic. Look up the history of Ivory Soap…I was so surprised to hear how it came to be!
hah! i will!
How to dream
Here in the coolness of a sweet Georgia night
while the crickets sing, gnats take flight
rest with me on the old porch swing
inhale soft jasmine… hark, whippoorwills sing
Take my hand, hold it close, hold it still
for it trembles now, as if there’s a chill
Pull me please in warm embrace
caress my hair, ears, and face
transport me completely with total affection
For with the thought, the mere suggestion
of a life locked in love, reality takes flight
here in the stillness of the sweet Georgia night
so lovely. I want to move to Georgia..
Robert: beautiful, beautiful. love.
This has such a lovely sense of nostalgia – even in the present.
Wow. That’s beautiful, Maurice. Very melodic, very visual, very sensual. A small masterpiece!
How to Make the Last Bits Last
It was all about those last
few potatoes.
Cupboards bare, last turnips gone,
the hen stopped laying
and soon became soup,
and now she arranges
sparse handfuls of potatoes
in a visual feast.
It was all about those last
few potatoes.
That’s so sad – but I like how you make a positive out of sadness.
i’m not sure how to word this, but there’s such a beautiful dignity to this poem.
Thank you, ladies.