Friday Orginal Poem

"Now to home without looking back, enough is enough."
-Jim Harrison from the poem, Broom, published in Songs of Unreason

Spring Cleaning

It's all part of my day to sweep morning breakfast crumbs
out the south facing slider onto the melting snow fringed in ice
where grass will be soon
where the fallen pines you carved into garden posts
stand guard in formation.

A walk to the mailbox slosh and slop in mud puddles,
eyes up to the treetops searching for bird signs
finch calls summoning spring,
beckoning me to do more cleaning.

As if the swish of my broom, the pass of my hand
on the slope of the tub like the back of a whale
can wash away the winter heavy grief
still clinging to my goulashes. 

Motivation: Day 29

Today marks day 29 of the 100 day project which means I have left  29 poems in homemade notebooks in some pretty random places.

Every day I check the email I set up for people to respond to the poem only to end up disappointed. No responses. And then I thought maybe it requires more of me then just sending poetry into the world, maybe it requires some courage. So this weekend I decided to change up my strategy. I left a poem book in a tip jar at a restaurant for a singer whose voice moved me. I tried to be discreet and she didn't see me do it at the time. But a day later I had a response. She figured it out, found me and sent the message below :

"I'm not sure why you chose the poem you left as a gift for me, 

or if you could have known what kind of impact it would have,

 but it did, and I can't thank you enough."

Turns out a little poetry and a little courage has big pay offs. I'm not discounting the poems that I have left randomly because who knows when I might get another message.

Friday Original Poem

Oswald West Beach

Where I lost it all

to a sea anemone, three starfish,

two orange, one purple,

to the surfer roasting

abalone over open flames.

Sent it all

back into the sea that

salt-stained my pant cuffs,

washed me.

Collected caves,

indents in the earth

where I fit.

Vowed to the lines of petrified logs –

benches in waiting –

where I sat spreading waves

on the day’s toast.

© 2013 Regina Gort all rights reserved

A to Z Challenge

For the A-Z challenge, Juliet and Regina decided to post a new and original poem every day. Today we decided to write a poem together by using an exquisite corpse. Essentially Regina wrote a line then sent a description of the line: Adjective, Noun, Verb, Adjective, Noun. Then Juliet wrote the next one not knowing what Regina wrote and so on . We decided to title the poem "Zed" meaning the letter Z. The End.


Zed

Tired hands keep writing breathing words

Pretty, slipping between the iron bars

that no longer hold back stories we have to tell

But whisper, the twisted branches have ears

Open hearts dig loam and prepare

The particles of yourself, a necessary salvage

reap a harvest, wring your hands

Bleed through until the edges burn

An end begins 

and in it all we end

NaPoWriMo

We get Sundays off from the A-Z Challenge, but not so for NaPoWriMo. Regina writes today's poem that was inspired by George Ella Lyon.

Where I Am From

I’m from mesquite bushes and

Cicada shells put

under Grandpa’s hat.

I am from caliche soil

that doesn’t let water

soak in,

pecans picked,

piled high

in paper bags.

I am from a double-wide

trailer in

tornado’s way.

And burning sun that

rattlesnakes hid from.

I am from cowboy hat and

three-piece suit,

from Carol and Juan.

I’m from bible-reciting- holy-rollers and

oil-anointing artists.

I’m from horse trough swimming

afternoons,

sweet tea and tortillas made from masa.

From the eyesight Mother lost in

her right eye on her honeymoon.

Under my bed was

a pile of handmade toys.

A silent congregation awaiting

my goodnight prayers.

I am from those moments in

the dark when light seeped in.

A to Z Challenge

For the A-Z challenge, we decided to post a new and original poem every day. Regina tackles the letter "x" today with a poem about her daughter, Gwendolyn and her first x-ray.
 

Failure to Thrive

She refused to drink and

her cry dried

into a shrill rattle.

Her cheeks melted ice,

her wide-open mouth,

a cavern I couldn't traverse

I laid her on a

bed of x-rays

beneath florescent lights

surgery standing over my shoulder,

whispering fear.

A to Z Challenge

 

For the A-Z challenge, we decided to post a new and original poem every day. Today, Regina dedicates a poem to her daughter, Violet for the letter "V".

Violet

Brought beauty in pockets overflowing

with dandelions, wilted and dried,

abandoned snail shells and

a Blue jay feather.

Brought scraped knees and

dirty socks full of rocks and twigs.

The wonder of having

a normal child is

the slant of the sun through the

autumn leaves that changed my

perspective of the forest.

A to Z Challenge

For the A-Z challenge, we decided to post a new and original poem every day. Today, Regina has the letter "T".



Two a.m.

Silence broken only

as the rocker hits

the wood floor.

Mother, child

two a.m.

time to find

peace in violence.

Remnants of war waged,

smell of breast milk,

warmth against my chest.

Two hearts

beating,

breaths synchronized in

heat and sweat.

Here in exhaustion,

in the trenches of motherhood,

you will find

me.

It's World Book Night!

Juliet is a giver and will be handing out copies of 

Tina Fey's "Bossypants"

To COPE Parents from Kingsley School

at Fleetwood Jourdain in Evanston, IL

A to Z Challenge

For the A-Z challenge, we decided to post a new and original poem every day. Today Regina shares a poem about her name for the letter "R".


Regina

My sister named me
after her childhood friend
I never knew.
She named me Queen,
imparted power in 
a namesake.

I am the child that united
her father and my mother,
pushed her farther from the
house where I held court.

And now miles and years apart
I reign wanting for her return 
to the kingdom.