Midweek Reflection on Writing Poetry and Barking Dogs

It's National Poetry Month, so far I have managed to write at least one poem a day. I have not read the poetry books I planned and I do not think I will get them read this month; all though I could be wrong about that. Since this is the first full week of April I am not sure what the rest of the month will hold.

Poetry writing
the neighbor's dog is barking
interrupts contemplation

I suppose I should complain, but I am not sure what good it would do. The dog does not bark all the time. This morning I think someone was knocking at their door, which cause the dog to bark. I hope the dog woke the family up, as it did with everyone in the neighborhood except me. I woke up early today, took all my morning meds, brewed a carafe of hot coffee, and started to review or write. My day got off to a good start before the dog started barking.

Wednesday Word: Poetry

Happy National Poetry Month!

Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.
Carl Sandburg

What is poetry? This is a question each poet has to answer while writing a poem. Every poet has a different answer and the answer changes with each poem. I can answer this question from my point of view, but I cannot answer it from the point of view of another poet.

Poetry a bird
singing in the Tree of Life
proclaiming sunrise.

Today, at this moment in time, I visualize poetry as a bird nesting in the boughs of the Tree of Life. I see poetry as a nightingale announcing the approach of dawn, as it raises its song into the air.

Yesterday's poems
a wind blowing through palm fronds
scattering laughter.

On Tuesday, March 31, the wind started to blow. It scattered little alone the curbs and blew through the boughs of olive, pine, or oak trees. It caused the flag in front of the apartment building to wave and it move palm fronds both living and dead. Yesterday, the wind generated poems, so yesterday poetry was a wind.

Tomorrow's poems
generated by birdsong
or an unknown wind

I do not know what will generate the poems I write tomorrow. The only thing I am sure of is that I will write poems. Since I have an appointment with my optometrist I might write a poem while sitting in the waiting room. I am also going to the grocery store tomorrow, so I may write one about that experience after I get home.

Poetry is food
feeding humanity's soul
with stanza and line

National Poetry Month: Day 30

I am in recovery,
from two
or was it three days
of ill health.

Chills,
the desire to drink water
instead of coffee,
no desire for food,
forgetting to make blog enteries
or was I just too tired.

Did I write poems
without realizing I wrote them
because
I had the need to sleep?

I will have to check
the loose leaf folder
next to my sleeping couch.

National Poetry Month: Day 27

Again,
the chill sits in;
in the house
it feels like 67 degrees,
but the thermostat
reads 75.

What is happening to me?

I am light headed,
which means I cannot drive safely,
so today
I will stay home.

Do I have a temperature?

Since I cannot find the thermometer
the question
is rendered academic.

I yawn,
but sleep is not an option,
at least,
this early in the day.

National Poetry Month: Day 26

eighty-two degrees
a long sleepless night waiting
cooler temperatures

National Poetry Month: Day 25

frightened sparrow flies
escapes back porch through loose screen
he sings happily

National Poetry Month: Day 24

baby birds chirping
nightingales and sparrows sing
gentle breeze blowing

National Poetry Month: Day 23

morning wind whistling
and rattling the backyard gate
chilled the air of dawn

National Poetry Month: Day 22 - Earth Day

Look out your window,
pick up the morning paper,
turn on the evening news,
and you will see
the Faces of Climate Change.

You will see,
humanity
struggling to survive
climate change.

You will see,
animals
on the edge of extection
because of climate change.

Walk to your bathroom mirror
and you will see
one of the Faces of Climate Change.

National Poetry Month: Day 21

On the First Day of Ridvan
a nightingale sings
proclaiming a new dawn

National Poetry Month: Day 20

a cool breeze blowing
the neighbor's dog is silent
no clouds in the sky

National Poetry Month: Day 19

a beautiful day
a good day to play outside
in the bright sunshine

National Poetry Month: Day 18

Today was a good day!
One essay,
one short story,
and a poem;
life writes on.

National Poetry Month: Day 17

the day is chilly
and the dish water is hot
good way to keep warm

National Poetry Month: Day 16

At the end of a long day,
I look at the clouds
bright monsters promising rain
that will never fall.

At the end of a long day,
I watch tree limbs wave
as the wind cools the desert
and the spring evening.

National Poetry Month: Day 15

all day the wind blew
hazy sky and waving limbs
a day for sneezing

National Poetry Month: Day 14

Yawning
on a sleepy Sunday afternoon,
I want to fall asleep
on my
computer keyboard.

National Poetry Month: Day 13

on a cloudy day
the wind blows through green oak leaves
the sun is setting

National Poetry Month: Day 12

Mixing powdered milk
Brings back childhood memories
Of Mama in the kitchen.

National Poetry Month: Day 11

Meditation of the half-light:
Filtered through layers of clouds
light curtains rustles
at sunset.

Meditation of the half-light:
Trapped between the water and the ice
air bubbles seek
escape.

Meditation of the half-light:
Dawn paints morning clouds pink
as night is transformed
into day.