Thursday, April 30, 2009

poem a day

April is National Poetry Month, and Poetic Asides blogger Robert Lee Brewer is calling all poets (and even non poets) to take part in his annual Poem-A-Day Challenge!
April 30
Farewell Revisited


Farewell
I hated that word
I always did
It meant
It is over
It is done
The good days are gone
Gone
Gone
Old friends vanish
Never seen again
Gone
Gone
Gone

Relatives you loved
Are no more
Gone
Gone


But not today
Today it means
No more
Prompts.
It means I’m
Free
Free
Free
Today it is a wonderful word
Farewell
Poetry thing
Farewell Robert
Farewell nonsense
Gone
Gone
Gone
Hooray
And then again
Hooray
Farewell
April 29
Never, Never Let Melli go!
Ode to a person named Melli

Her bounce and winning smile
That made our life worth while
Her laughter gone from my space
Where once it filled the place
Never, never let Melli go.

From Maryland she came
To meet Dr. John was her aim
To learn and study at his feet
She thought was really neat
Never, never let Melli go

Every day a new eating place
Even one with a fireplace
A change for stay at homes
Living like closet gnomes
Never, never let Melli go

Canasta was the game she played
A flair for cards she displayed
The white table’s empty now
We will survive somehow
Never, never let Melli go

Took Ella and the saffron
Camera Made by Cannon
“Mom” and lots of stuff
She really bought enough
Never, never let Melli go

So now we sit in quiet air
Wishing she were there
Laughing as loud as she can
But that’s not the plan
Never, never let Melli go

Upon our faces little tears
Our hearts having little fears
Life will never be the same
Melli has changed the game
Never, never let Melli go


To skip the rest of the poems and leave a comment click HERE
Poem a Day-April 28

Trouble with Cain

On the track there came a train
To see that it took no brain
Water running down the drain
Seen through the window pane
All the descendants of Cain
Coming up out of the plain.

But still it hurt her brain
To see life going down the drain
Despite the really thick glass pane
Still she claimed the name of Cain
And she made it very plain
Her mind still rode the train

He poured the bottle down the drain
Having smashed the window pane
He was a real son of Cain
Broken, ruined that was plain
So he stood before the train
End the sufferings of his brain.

She paid a lot for the glass pane
Broken by the son of Cain
Her anger there was very plain
As he died before the train.
She knew he had no brain
Sent his life right down the drain.

The descendants of one called Cain
Useless bunch was very plain
The ones that stopped the train
Not a single ounce of brain
On mankind they were a drain
Seen through my glass pane.

For they came up from the plain
Some even took the train
But none had a real brain
Just more lives down the drain
Broken glass in life’s window pane
All because of the sin of Cain


The train had an electric brain
A steam drain and window pane
Brought Cain up from the plain
To skip the rest of the poems and leave a comment click HERE
April 27
I long


I long, I long, I long
With a longing so strong

You could bottle it
It would really fit
As a love potion
Or such a notion
But it’s really hate
That I have to wait


I long, I long, I long
With a longing so strong


For the prompt to be gone
A wonderful new dawn
With no poetry for me
How great that will be
I will then be free
From all this idiocy


I long, I long, I long
With a longing so strong
To skip the rest of the poems and leave a comment click HERE
April 26
Failure to Communicate

They know I’m going to hell
That I’m under Satan’s spell
If I was one of the free
In their church I would be


They don’t listen when I tell
That with Christ I also dwell.
They close their ears and their eyes
Thinking I am telling lies


Communicate we can not do
Won’t let the words come through
But they are all family
Part of the same old tree


So I will try and try and try
Then lay down and cry and cry

To skip the rest of the poems and leave a comment click HERE
April 25

Though their not real
They have that train feel
They smoke and toot
And run to boot


Four sizes have we
N, HO, O , and G
And sometimes a Z
Lots of trains to see


Some around cities run
Some have country fun
I buy things I need
A tiny sack of feed


A bridge for my creek
More treasures still I seek
Fake grass for the plain
More track for the train


A little house for the hill
Hide from wife the bill
Once a year this train place
Brings a smile to my face


April 24
Sad Moving

Please don’t cry
You know why
Pack the truck
Wish us luck


We have to go
Economies slow

Travel we must
Kick up the dust
From here to there
Say a prayer


We have to go
Economies slow

We’ll find a way
A place to stay
A job for me
You’ll see


We have to go
Economies slow

To skip the rest of the poems and leave a comment click HERE
April 23
I Regret


I regret a lot of things
Including little fender dings
Not marking page in the book
All the time spent to look
Not going to Finland
Shoes filled with sand


Growing old so very fast
Wishing youth would last
Eating cake till I was sick
Every fight I ever pick
Not praying more every day
Writing poems this silly way

I regret most of all
Writing silly poems on call.
Prompts day after day
Throw them all away.

I hate prompts so there!
Not that you really care
You poets proud of all you’ve written
With your own stuff really smitten.
Hoping someone will see
Put it in a book for thee
Award you the top prize
Heads above the other guys.

Be glad that I am here
Don’t regret I’m near
Next to mine you really shine
Like a glass of fine wine.
Next to a table beer
Be glad I’m here.

April 22
Work Related


Work related the prompt said
Spill some words
About work
Down the page.
But I’m retired.
I used to
Work
But now I play
All day
So words about
Work
Are work
Hey! That’s work
Related.
Spilled enough
Words
Did the hard
Work.
I guess I’m done.


To skip the rest of the poems and leave a comment click HERE
April 21

Unstoppable

Truth told
Ineluctable tide
Lies unfold


Haiku


Pretending your smart
With an intellectual fart

Haiku Haiku Haiku
I don’t like you

Five seven five they say
That is the only way
Little, big ,little
Let’s you fiddle
Came over from Japan
Not a poem for a man
No meaning clear
Ever found here


To skip the rest of the poems and leave a comment click HERE
April 20
Born Again


I was born once ain’t that enough
So I’m not saved that’s just tough
Thus I sent the man away
Who wanted to save me that day



But often I think of him
As I plow deeper into sin
Could born again help me
Could it begin to set me free




I wonder if this Jesus stuff
Isn’t just so much guff
But really could change the way
My life goes day by day
He left this pamphlet here with me
Is there something I should see
Should I give his Christ a try
Find some hope before I die?
Or is lost my ineluctable destiny
Never , never to bend a knee
To a God who picks you out
And gives you a brand new route.



I think I’ll try my frien

Born Again! Born Again!

To skip the rest of the poems and leave a comment click HERE

April 19

Angry People


Angry people in the street
Loud drums they beat
Left and right they repeat

March shout
Evil’s about
Truth must out

Hate the other side
To us they lied and lied
For blood we cried

March shout
Evil’s about
Truth must out

Throw tea bags
Burn the flags
Power to the rags

March shout
Evil’s about
Truth must out

On and on and on it goes
Often coming up to blows
Stopping it who knows

March shout
Evil’s about
Truth must out
To skip the rest of the poems and leave a comment click HERE
April 18 The nice Lady

She patted me on the head
“So that’s Ella” to me said
“Good for you old man
Get help where you can
Keep that mind in flight
Talk to the doll it’s alright.”
I told her where Ella’s been
She almost smiled and then
“Remembered all that did you
See it will help you through”
I wanted at her to scream
“I’m not as old as I might seem”
But then she walked away
Me her good deed of the day.
And I didn’t smash her head
Run her over, leave her dead
Condescending old broad
Who died and made her God.

April 17
All I want is to be done

Poems I hate to write
Make my muscles tight
Everyday I have to fight
To get a poem just right

I want to be done
I want to run
I want some fun
Want to see the sun

I’ll go to the store
Who knows what for
Prompt me no more
It makes me sore

All I want is to be done.


April 16

Green

I painted every
Wall green
Yes green
Not all the same shade
Of course
But green
I like green
I’m Finnish
Well my grandfather
Was
So I can be
When I want to
Finns like
Green
So I’m Told
Not gold
Green
I painted
The outside green
Too
Polish green
They said
Looks terrible
They said
But it was
Green.
My house.
My green.
I like
Green
When I left
They
Painted it brown
Yuck

April 15

The Village Wench
With apologies to Longfellow

Under the flowering plum tree
The village wench stands.
A paragon of virtue she
With small and supple hands
And the diamond earrings on her ears
Are held by silver bands.

On her back tigers are tattooed

Her face is like the tan
Her brow is wet with sexy sweat
She earns whate’er she can
Her income tax is paid in full
She owes not any man.

Chicken Noodle Soup she makes
You can hear her soft breath blow
You can hear her jump rope in the den
With measured beat and slow.
Like bats in the belfry flying out
When the evening sun is low.

And Gentleman coming to her place

Look in at the open door
They love to see her flaming dress
And hear her mellifolus roar
The cow jumped over the moon she does
While lying on the floor

She goes on Sunday to the Church
And it makes her heart rejoice
Monday it is book club time
She dares to raise her voice
But when the sun goes down at night
She’s there among the boys

Sometimes she remembers mother’s hand

With organic tea and pies
She needs must think of her once more
How in the grave she lies
And with a gravely soiled hand she wipes
A tear out of her eyes.

Toiling—rejoicing—sorrowing
Dutch Treat through life she goes
Each evening sees some task begun
Each morning sees it close
Something attempted, something done
Prefix a day’s repose

Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy fiend
For the pleasures you have brought
In the art festival of death
Your fortune must be wrought
May God forgive what you have done
Each burning deed and thought.

Orginal title-Village Smithy – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

To skip the rest of the poems and leave a comment click HERE
April 14
A love poem

Long ago to me God sent
An Angel just slightly bent
Bent enough to love me
Unlovable as then I be
She prayed and prayed a lot
Since she got what she got
The years have sailed by
Loves me still I know not why?
Not much left for her to love
This bent angel from above
Now she fills my oxygen tanks
Even though she gets no thanks
She counts my pills into the case
Combs my hair, washes my face
Lays out my clothes in a row
Drives the car so we can go
Who else would love worn out me
Only an angel that’s plain to see.

I love her too you know
This angel sent here below
Mother of our children three
The one who sets me free
Betty Betty is her name
Emblazoned in my hall of fame
Oh! Betty I love you
I really really really do.

An Anti-love poem

God loves him the little man
Loves as only our God can

But little man he hates God
Shakes his fist like a rod
Pours out his anti love each day
Hopes that God will go away
Proclaims that God is gone
No coming heavenly dawn
He screams its all a lie
Don’t pray , don’t even try
He’s smarter than the rest of us
Who over God make a fuss

At least he thinks he is


April 13
My Hobby


The little village it goes round
Making that choo choo sound
Then the winter sports place
Brings a slow and steady pace

Pass the cemetery so bleak
Past the little mountain peak
Now the little water town
Don’t fall in or you will drown

Up the hill to Santa’s place
Watch the amazing reindeer race
All modules for my model train
Gives me joy and sometimes pain.



April 12

So we decided to believe

He’s dead
He was you know
Dead as a
Doornail.
Blood gushing out
All over the ground
Spear in his side
We cried
We didn’t want to believe
We really
‘didn’t
But he was dead
So we decided to believe
He was dead.

The ladies said
“body’s gone.”
Crazy women.
Seeing things
Hard to stop believing
He is dead
We won’t be
Hurt again.
Dead is dead
Is dead
And we decided to believe
He was dead

But then
Who walked with us?
Who broke bread?
Who gathered us
In an upper
Room?
Tell me.
He was dead.
I know. We believed.
He was dead.
But now
we saw him
Holes and all
So we decided
Yes
We decided to believe
He was alive.
To skip the rest of the poems and leave a comment click HERE


So we decided to believe

He’ll get over it mom said
It’s just a phase in his head
We aren’t that kind of family
A preacher he will never be

Dad wasn’t happy at all
He wanted a Doctor on call
How could he ignore his dad
It would make him very sad

But he held onto the hope
Wouldn’t give up. Nope!
Worked two jobs to pay
To seminary the way.

He held the faith very fast
A Pastor he became at last
So we decided to believe
To rejoice and not to grieve


April 11- Poem a Day

The Mouse
A mouse, a mouse , a mouse
they called It a mouse
Why . When nobody I know
Wants a mouse in the house

My cat won’t touch it
To her it’s not a mouse
And it really really irritates
My loving spouse

But it’s not alive you know
It s a computer mouse
It could be worse of course
They could have called it louse

But it's
A mouse, a mouse, a mouse!

April 10

Good Friday

They called this Friday Good
Once upon a time
Now it’s just another day
In this non religious clime
Once they all went to church
For three long hours yet
Listened to the words
spoken from the tree
By the strange man who
Tried to set us free
But now they couldn’t care
They have things to do
Mow the grass, eat out
see a friend , shop too

Yes they called this Friday Good
Now it’s just another day
But not for me or mine
We continue in the way.

To skip the rest of the poems and leave a comment click HERE

April 9

Her pictures on the wall
Memories they still recall
That’s her and Grampa Jim
Fore the cancer got to him
That’s her with little me
Just as proud as I could be

Standing with aunts and mom
When she went and married Tom
Every picture brings her back
Memories right on track
Grandma Mabel here’s to you
Without your memories I couldn’t do.


April 8

Get out of bed take off the mask
Breath without it now your task
Now take all those dratted pills
Or get green around the gills
Shake your head clear the fog
In the computer room a blog
Find the prompt for the day
Write a poem say what you say
Then breakfast you can eat
Tomorrow the routine repeat



April 7

Clean then Dirty

It was an Easter day so bright
The sun giving glorious light.
The kids all looked so very neat
Even the little stinky Pete
Ma scrubbed them all you see
They were as they should be
So they started for the car
Saw the mud but it was far
Stinky he saw it too
Knew just what to do
Running he jumped right in.
Well being dirty is no sin.


Clean makes Dirty

A clean pad
No words
Not soiled with lead
A poem
Needs to be written
A clean poem
A green poem
A clean air poem
A dirty pad
Lead smudges
Called words
Darn poets


April 6

Something Missing ?

You think you put the car keys where?
I already looked in there.
No their not on the special hook
Yes, I’ll take another look.
Not in the drawer or on the shelf
They weren’t taken by an elf
Think, think , think I need to go
The boss is waiting you know
No their not on the bed
Dear your making me see red
Check MY pockets now you say
There they are hooray, hooray
When I get to work I’ll call
They weren’t missing after all


April 5

The Cornish Pump
Once I kept the miners dry
There was no other great as I
Five million gallons every day
My pipes carried far away
Eleven thousand tons of coal
Kept me working in the hole
Sixty men to make me go
Lots of pipes all in a row
Electricity was my demise
Cheaper, faster, fewer guys
Rescued for the tourist trade
A landmark of me they made.
April 4

The Bipolar Penguin

The bipolar penguin thought he was a bear
So he went and stood over there
They’ll eat him or even worse
Which ends this silly verse


My Flamingo

Flamingo , Flamingo in my yard
Standing there without a guard
But your not there today
Somebody took you away.
Once so tall , pink and cute
Now just somebody’s loot.
If I Catch them I tell you
They’ll be sorry fore I’m through.


April 3

The Problem With Tenebrous, Jussulent Pots

The old black tenebrous pot
Was still used an awful lot
The jussulent pot inside the door
The guards placed on the floor
Ebullient became the men
Stuck there by their sin
But the old pot trouble had
It leaked and that was bad.

Poem for April 2
Outsider
Once an outsider I be
Shunned by he and she
Frowned on by one and all
Made to feel very small
I thought I should die
No reason to even try
Till the lottery I won
Now I shine like the sun
They all really love me
My turn to frown you see.

Poem for April 1
Origin
Was I conceived in sin
That’s how it did begin
Or did I evolve from ape
Rising from some old lake
Well I’ll tell you Sam
No matter cuz here I Am


April is National Poetry Month, and Poetic Asides blogger Robert Lee Brewer is calling all poets (and even non poets) to take part in his annual Poem-A-Day Challenge! Last year, more than 400 poets posted more than 4,000 poems during the month of April and turnout this year is expected to be even greater.

Participants who complete the poem-a-day challenge will receive a certificate, an online badge (for display on your blog or website) and will be considered for publication in a free eBook designed by Writer’s Digest’s own wonderful designers.

Participation is free. All you have to do is show up to the Poetic Asides blog on April 1, write a poem a day, and have a great time. For more details, visit: Poetic Asides.

32 Comments:

Blogger Melli said...

Oh YAY!!! You ARE playing! Good for you! I have to go see ... is Betty playing too?

*oh! that rhymed!*

LOL!

7:03 AM  
Blogger juliana said...

ah! et tu, brutus?
(just kidding)
you are a man of multiple talents

8:56 AM  
Anonymous quilly said...

I loved your poem for ORIGIN. That cracked me up!

10:55 AM  
Blogger Akelamalu said...

Great poems Dr. John. I particularly liked Outsider.

12:30 PM  
Blogger Cherie said...

Your creativity never ceases to amaze me. I'll leave poetry to the masters. :)

5:46 PM  
Blogger Eaton Bennett aka Berenice Albrecht said...

Your Origin poem is a crack up...love it. The Outsider one isn't to bad either.

I decided to have a go at this poetry challenge and amazingly I have done the first two as well. Be back to read more of them.

5:08 AM  
Blogger Melli said...

Those ebullient men will just have to be QUICK so their jussulent brew doesn't end up all over the floor.

MUST you make me THINK even with poetry?

8:05 AM  
Blogger Nessa said...

Great poems. You have one very quirky mind. I love it.

10:29 AM  
Blogger tsduff said...

I do like Poem No. 2.

5:51 PM  
Blogger Melli said...

LOL! I LOVE the penguin AND the flamingo! First Lutheran Youth Group used to have a spring fundraiser where you paid them to put a flamingo (or however many you were willing to pay for) in someone's yard -- and then the only way they could get RID of it (if they DIDN'T want it) was to pay the youth group to take it and put it in someone else's yard! I wasn't there at the time... I wish they would start it up again. I'm JUST the type that would pay MANY dollars to have flamingo's in EVERYONE's yard BUT mine!!! I promise you I don't HAVE your flamingo! But if I SEE it, I'll be sure to bring it home!

2:59 PM  
Blogger Nessa said...

Your bipolar penguin is hysterical.

8:05 AM  
Blogger Jientje said...

I love your poetry.
And the bipolar penguin.
Sheer genius!

11:57 AM  
Blogger Nessa said...

I caught up on 7 and 8. Your poetry always makes me laugh.

7:47 AM  
Blogger Melli said...

That sounds very similar to MY morning - minus that stupid (but necessary) mask!

7:59 AM  
Blogger Melli said...

That is a great poem about your Grandma's pictures! So many memories for you in them...

9:29 AM  
Blogger Melli said...

Me too.

6:37 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

(re: April 8) Your sleeping mask looks just like mine! :)
I've had mine for one week and I LOVE it; it has improved my life so very much. Added benefit: I can be a Star Wars character for Halloween!

8:10 PM  
Blogger tsduff said...

I liked your green (Finnish) house poem.

I hope you got the email I sent you about faith.

You are a great writer.

3:41 PM  
Blogger Eaton Bennett aka Berenice Albrecht said...

Your Anger poem gives off a dark vibe in the rhythm and the repetition, well done. We're getting there, more than half way! WOW :))

6:44 AM  
Blogger Nessa said...

You captured the current politcal (I use that term very loosely) climate perfectly.

7:06 AM  
Blogger tsduff said...

I do like Haiku :)

1:54 PM  
Blogger Eaton Bennett aka Berenice Albrecht said...

Your poems on rebirth is awesome, well done. The one on regret a reminder of all the things we could dwell on if we let ourselves. And, the travel one is my experience some years ago. This has certainly been an interesting experience. :)

3:43 AM  
Anonymous Aldwin Sendaydiego said...

hi.. its really good i found your blog. Thanks God Bless.

8:36 AM  
Blogger Melli said...

Oh wow! Some poety people are leaving "real" comments here! How DO you do it Dr. J? The train brain pane poem gave me a headache....
and I still have to write one... UGH!!!!

7:29 AM  
Blogger Eaton Bennett aka Berenice Albrecht said...

Wow, you did a sestina...well done. I was not brave enough to try. The thought of doing one actually hurt my brain. :))

6:18 PM  
Blogger A Lady's Life said...

Never let Melli go. That was a really nice poem.

8:22 AM  
Blogger Nessa said...

Great Melli poem and a great Never addition.

4:11 PM  
Blogger Melli said...

Ohhhhhhh.... now you just went and made me CRY again! I didn't wanna go... I didn't... *sigh*

I love you.

9:44 PM  
Blogger Jientje said...

What a lovely tribute to melli!! She will be missed, I'm sure of that!!

2:15 AM  
Blogger Karen (formerly kcinnova) said...

Wow, I take some time off for sunny weather, and then again to be with a friend... I return to read your poems and discover them speaking her experiences.
He did indeed have a pain in his brain. A sickness, an increasing paranoia, a hopelessness and despair beyond anything I can imagine. And he had anger there, too, because he wanted her to feel that pain. So he made sure she saw it happen.
A sister needs your prayers tonight.

4:44 PM  
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