Golden Streets

Laying rocks through town
Cottage Grove folks gathered all,
to keep dust away

the people needed paved streets
Gold was in those rocks
mineral testing proved then

Cottage Grove is known as the
city with streets paved
with gold; you can believe it


---Haiku


In celebration of National Poetry Month (April),

I am joining many others in an attempt

to write and post a poem a day.

After years of inactivity

this blog should soon be swirling in words,

if it all works as planned!

 

 

Maureen Thorson has a wonderful site which links to many, many poem-a-day blogs. Be sure to take a look at it, one never knows what one will find!!!

A Friend

Eighty pounds of joy, laughter without end
never again will I encounter such a friend

Chasing a half-deflated basketball
summers romping among grasses my friend

Brindled and sleek, quick and yet very meek
a kinder dog no one will ever befriend

Winters sharing blankets; cords by the ton
you, staring at the heater, as if a friend

Me now looking heavenward lost, alone
searching for you, my lost and faithful friend


--- a Ghazal




In celebration of National Poetry Month (April),

I am joining many others in an attempt

to write and post a poem a day.

After years of inactivity

this blog should soon be swirling in words,

if it all works as planned!

 

 

Maureen Thorson has a wonderful site which links to many, many poem-a-day blogs. Be sure to take a look at it, one never knows what one will find!!!

 

Wish You Were Here

Greetings:

Wish you were here,
the screeching whimps
in a jungle-wrapped
carcass of loneliness
hold me captive,
struggling for release,

There is no closure,
no opening, no escape,
once in the jumbled
slap-slap-slapping of
tree-whips scourging;
forever crying out
for you.



In celebration of National Poetry Month (April),

I am joining many others in an attempt

to write and post a poem a day.

After years of inactivity

this blog should soon be swirling in words,

if it all works as planned!

 

 

Maureen Thorson has a wonderful site which links to many, many poem-a-day blogs. Be sure to take a look at it, one never knows what one will find!!!

Diminishing

Wishing giant's ladders more stable
so we can put beans at the table
and eat all that we are able

Reckoning myself aground
falling, really, to the ground
frustration round and round

No magic will we glean
no meat or beans for O'Lean
our cupboards bare and lean.


---Diminishing Verse




In celebration of National Poetry Month (April),

I am joining many others in an attempt

to write and post a poem a day.

After years of inactivity

this blog should soon be swirling in words,

if it all works as planned!

 

 

Maureen Thorson has a wonderful site which links to many, many poem-a-day blogs. Be sure to take a look at it, one never knows what one will find!!!

Senseless

She lay motionless
water drip, drip, dripping
into the shower
I could smell chlorine
settling in the air,
reaching out my finger
to feel for life, seemed
futile, yet it is what
is done at times like this,
and tasted the last of
life's warm breath.


In celebration of National Poetry Month (April),

I am joining many others in an attempt

to write and post a poem a day.

After years of inactivity

this blog should soon be swirling in words,

if it all works as planned!

 

 

Maureen Thorson has a wonderful site which links to many, many poem-a-day blogs. Be sure to take a look at it, one never knows what one will find!!!

 

The Eyes Have It

Do not close your eyes
visit that scene again
where a fist clutches your heart
and rips it out your chest

That scene once seen
will not be undone
so whatever the cost
Do Not Close Your Eyes.





In celebration of National Poetry Month (April),

I am joining many others in an attempt

to write and post a poem a day.

After years of inactivity

this blog should soon be swirling in words,

if it all works as planned!

 

 

Maureen Thorson has a wonderful site which links to many, many poem-a-day blogs. Be sure to take a look at it, one never knows what one will find!!!

Marguerite Annie Johnson

All hail Marguerite Annie Johnson
known to most as Maya Angelou,
Perfume her grave with flowers
and grace the site with baby's breath,
For here lay a rare one we know
Who's heart benevoled many.
Her hands remain unblemished
Aiding all who came to her,
seeking those who might desire.
Chairing, forming, heading groups
to give, give, and give some more,
Ah, never were a poet more nude
or honest, or repaired, than Maya Angelou,
I will count the days till we meet.


---An Elegy




In celebration of National Poetry Month (April),

I am joining many others in an attempt

to write and post a poem a day.

After years of inactivity

this blog should soon be swirling in words,

if it all works as planned!

 

 

Maureen Thorson has a wonderful site which links to many, many poem-a-day blogs. Be sure to take a look at it, one never knows what one will find!!!

Goo Goo Dolls!

Goo Goo Dolls, "Black Balloon"


"A thousand other boys could never reach you
How could I have been the one
I saw the world spin beneath you
And scatter like ice from the spoon
That was your womb"

So, um, really? He said it that way,
What does it even mean?
Corny, at best, a very weird day
A crazy man on the scene,




In celebration of National Poetry Month (April),

I am joining many others in an attempt

to write and post a poem a day.

After years of inactivity

this blog should soon be swirling in words,

if it all works as planned!

 

 

Maureen Thorson has a wonderful site which links to many, many poem-a-day blogs. Be sure to take a look at it, one never knows what one will find!!!

 

Blind Escort

A blind man led a blind gal
To a ditch without falling,
Skirting round friendly ol Sal;
Blind, but he had come calling,

"Wait, I've a message for you,
Just a moment of your time,
A minute most, maybe two
And a song and dance sublime.


---An Ae Freislighe



In celebration of National Poetry Month (April),

I am joining many others in an attempt

to write and post a poem a day.

After years of inactivity

this blog should soon be swirling in words,

if it all works as planned!

 

 

Maureen Thorson has a wonderful site which links to many, many poem-a-day blogs. Be sure to take a look at it, one never knows what one will find!!!

Life of a Language

Each day, a language dies somewhere,
an expressive medium declaring beauty,
sadness,
profound skin-shaking
deep-seeded
volcanic joy,
A unique language to a people expressing
a unique people in a language accepting
that their words are life.







In celebration of National Poetry Month (April),

I am joining many others in an attempt

to write and post a poem a day.

After years of inactivity

this blog should soon be swirling in words,

if it all works as planned!

 

 

Maureen Thorson has a wonderful site which links to many, many poem-a-day blogs. Be sure to take a look at it, one never knows what one will find!!!

Sounds Like Tool

We merely insert Synonyms
those toiling at alphabet keys
All's been said double homonym,
Breaking the rules? Oh come now, please,

Dirging and swilling
all's the while
parting ways with chains
and rules. And tools.




In celebration of National Poetry Month (April),

I am joining many others in an attempt

to write and post a poem a day.

After years of inactivity

this blog should soon be swirling in words,

if it all works as planned!

 

 

Maureen Thorson has a wonderful site which links to many, many poem-a-day blogs. Be sure to take a look at it, one never knows what one will find!!!

ERASURE

The rain came harder

larger drops,

miniature marshmallows,

more and more of it,

Grandma's flowerbed right

outside the front window.

The gray light filtering down through the rain

in a dream, a nightmare,

while watching for Daddy to come home

from working in the woods.

---An Erasure

 

 

 

In celebration of National Poetry Month (April),

I am joining many others in an attempt

to write and post a poem a day.

After years of inactivity

this blog should soon be swirling in words,

if it all works as planned!

 

 

Maureen Thorson has a wonderful site which links to many, many poem-a-day blogs. Be sure to take a look at it, one never knows what one will find!!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fickle Plastics

The people cried out against the trees
"Cut 'em down, we'll be down on our knees
wanting all the green gems back here again,"
We've oceans of plastic to appease.


--- A Gwawdodyn




In celebration of National Poetry Month (April),

I am joining many others in an attempt

to write and post a poem a day.

After years of inactivity

this blog should soon be swirling in words,

if it all works as planned!

 

 

Maureen Thorson has a wonderful site which links to many, many poem-a-day blogs. Be sure to take a look at it, one never knows what one will find!!!

Not So Cute!

Having a tea with mother and my friend,
I asked Mom, "As a baby was I cute?"
She smiled, brushing out my tangled locks
Saying I'd been happy, and cute to boot,

I sat there on the couch in front of Mom
As she brushed and brushed my so tangled hair
Fingers happening upon her Winstons
And flipping them into her coffee there,

"Oh", Mom says, surprised and at such a loss,
Should she cry, laugh, what to do with this girl
What's to be done about such a strange thing
As tobacco swirling in a cup-twirl?

"I will say, though," Mom reflexively cries,
"You're cute no more though. Please, God bless my eyes."






In celebration of National Poetry Month (April),

I am joining many others in an attempt

to write and post a poem a day.

After years of inactivity

this blog should soon be swirling in words,

if it all works as planned!

 

 

Maureen Thorson has a wonderful site which links to many, many poem-a-day blogs. Be sure to take a look at it, one never knows what one will find!!!

Cat's Game

If there is no point, then it is pointless
To play games in which no one wins, ever.
Some, I know, are let to win regardless
Because they're small, or cute or they're clever

Tic Tac Toe, for sure, is a feline's game,
No one wins, I swear, only mimic moves
Til there's nothing left that isn't the same
As fitting x and o into cat's grooves,

I'm a game cynic; lost many times,
I want to toss those boards and those pieces
Away, bury 'em, cover 'em with lime,
Don't want to play, even with nieces,

I will sit and read books, maybe to you.
Can't fathom a game. A story or two?



---Shakespearean Sonnet






In celebration of National Poetry Month (April),

I am joining many others in an attempt

to write and post a poem a day.

After years of inactivity

this blog should soon be swirling in words,

if it all works as planned!

 

 

Maureen Thorson has a wonderful site which links to many, many poem-a-day blogs. Be sure to take a look at it, one never knows what one will find!!!

 

Goliath

Haunted
Dreams of my pup,
To Babylonia
On camel's backs to a queen's court,
Sad day.


---A Cinquain






In celebration of National Poetry Month (April),

I am joining many others in an attempt

to write and post a poem a day.

After years of inactivity

this blog should soon be swirling in words,

if it all works as planned!

 

 

Maureen Thorson has a wonderful site which links to many, many poem-a-day blogs. Be sure to take a look at it, one never knows what one will find!!!

 

Those Rhomboids

The high, full moon
illuminates a lone rowboat
lilting lazily on the lake,

Upon close exam
the spotlight reveals
a tear-speckled maid,

She can not row
the boat to the far shore;
She's skipped exercise

class for two days
and has not strengthened
her rhomboids






In celebration of National Poetry Month (April),

I am joining many others in an attempt

to write and post a poem a day.

After years of inactivity

this blog should soon be swirling in words,

if it all works as planned!

 

 

Maureen Thorson has a wonderful site which links to many, many poem-a-day blogs. Be sure to take a look at it, one never knows what one will find!!!

Hit the Nail on the Head

Holding paper clips between two fingers,
loss devours any sense of solidity,
a void tightening like a vice is
seeking that form to disconnect
as papers flutter to the floor,
Pantomime, if you will,
the correct answer,
all semblance of truth is not lost;
but all motion is truth.








In celebration of National Poetry Month (April),

I am joining many others in an attempt

to write and post a poem a day.

After years of inactivity

this blog should soon be swirling in words,

if it all works as planned!

 

 

Maureen Thorson has a wonderful site which links to many, many poem-a-day blogs. Be sure to take a look at it, one never knows what one will find!!!

 

The Valley

A deep path
Through mountains where
All things grow

Endless dew,
Trees reach high
Overhead

Snowmelt buds
All names of floral
Scent and silk

One could walk
Across the valley
West to east

North to south
Would take days and days
To travel

The valley--
Where all the farmers
Grow much here

And ranchers
Raise dairy, or wool
'Tis lovely.

---A haibun




In celebration of National Poetry Month (April),

I am joining many others in an attempt

to write and post a poem a day.

After years of inactivity

this blog should soon be swirling in words,

if it all works as planned!

 

 

Maureen Thorson has a wonderful site which links to many, many poem-a-day blogs. Be sure to take a look at it, one never knows what one will find!!!

 

Memories

A metal key ring
with a winding chain,
always green Dickies, always,
except for the black slacks on Sunday,
black loafers for church,
brown loafers for work,
an orange tilling tractor,
all make up my sweet memories
of Grandpa.




In celebration of National Poetry Month (April),

I am joining many others in an attempt

to write and post a poem a day.

After years of inactivity

this blog should soon be swirling in words,

if it all works as planned!

 

 

Maureen Thorson has a wonderful site which links to many, many poem-a-day blogs. Be sure to take a look at it, one never knows what one will find!!!