4.7.13

I swear.

I jab in my thumbs, collapsing the pot.

Wet clay spins into a ragged flower shape.

I gather it up, smash it into a ball again.

I throw it at the wheel.

Wet smack.

Re-center, you bastard.

The damn thing always goes crooked.

Eighth try is a charm.

There is a lot of profanity in art.

I ease on the pedal.

I think about painting.

I am better at painting.

Why the hell am I not painting right now?

4.6.13

I'm saving the "valediction" prompt from NaPoWriMo for another day--tried several takes before realizing that this wasn't what I needed to write for the picture and color prompt.

The color prompt, in case you're interested, is black, and the picture I used for inspiration is below.  Yes, that's me.  Be afraid.  This is what I do while the kids are napping.  That is not my  real hair.

New Me

Slip into who you want to be,

who you don’t dare to be—

leave navy blue cardigan, khaki

slacks, dress sandals pooled

on the dressing room floor.  Regret

is made of rayon and has pearl-sheen

buttons.  It can’t be measured

but you wear it every day.  Strip it off,

hide what’s underneath.

You could never pull off that black leather

trenchcoat, but she could,

she in the mirror, spikes of hair looming

like pointy-headed angry nuns.  Fishnet gloves,

boots with silver eyelets claws, knee to ankle—

obsidian lipstick, fake nose ring, snake-green eye shadow:

obscure yourself enough, you won’t even need

your face anymore.  A new disguise

is still a disguise. Why do you think

this will change your life?

4.5.13

Today's prompt: write a cinquain: five lines, specific instructions.  (The "Cinquains for Day Five" post here http://www.napowrimo.net/ will explain more succinctly than I can).  My color prompt today: scarlet.   Imagine a weirdly-red piercing-gazed cement deer with no mouth...in the intersection of "nowhere" and "lots of corn."  Or see below. Mine is two cinquains.

To the Scarlet Cement Mouthless Deer at the Corner of Two Cornfields

Wonder:

why so lurid

in this neglected place,

and in what silence do

you wait, jaw crumbled by the days

and sun?

Black tipped

antlers stand guard

through seasons’ clock of days.

If you could speak, what secret would

you say?

4.4.13

Today's NaPoWriMo prompt: use the title of a spaceship from an Iain M. Banks novel as the title of your poem.  (Check out the "Day Four" post here http://www.napowrimo.net/ if you need more explanation).  My color prompt was brown...and this is fueled by the fact that Miss L had kindergarten round-up today.  So much converging creative energy...lovin'  NaPoWriMo April!

A Fine Disregard for Awkward Facts

Whoever said that hearts need

to be “Valentine colors” can bite me.

My girl crayons hearts the color of coffee,

daisies with two centers, green waterfalls,

and baby sister with butterfly wings.  At five years,

the rules don’t apply yet.  Facts don’t matter,

hard-and-fast by-laws are more like nifty ideas

but are, ultimately, disposable.

She will start school this fall:

she will be told the sky is blue,

the tree has green leaves, and baby can’t fly. I want

to color her with white crayon to resist

reality’s dipping, stubbornly rolling it off in fat 

droplets of “no way.”  I want her to think

in ripples of clear purple water, to

burn with pink-sparkle flames, to breathe

neon dandelion scent and sing bonesongs

in all shades of the color "want"--to

give all of THEM something to think about.

4.3.13

Today's prompt was to write a sea chantey (or shantey or shanty or chanty or whatever your preferred spelling is).  Well, that's outside my comfort zone, since 1) I live in a landlocked state and know nothing about the sea and 2) I usually stay away from repeated lines and sing-songy rhythms in my "normal stuff."  So--of course I tried it!  My color prompt was green today, and that makes me think of spring, so (since, as I said, I know nothing about nautical things except that I like to say ARRRRR like a pirate) I made a "land chantey" instead.  Here it be!

Planting Chantey

Out the ground they're shooting through!
Sprouting, coming up
Black dirt, let the green spikes through!
Sprouting, coming up

Twist them upward toward the sun!
Sprouting, coming up
Darkest season's nearly done!
Sprouting, coming up

Point the spade and split the dirt!
Sprouting, coming up
Place the seeds to root them sure!
Sprouting, coming up

Sea of grasses, wave with green!
Sprouting, coming up
Grow strong in the warming breeze!
Sprouting, coming up

Ho, the pitchfork!  turn the loam!
Sprouting, coming up
Hey, the plow!  In black dirt drive it home!
Sprouting, coming up

Planting’s done, now bring the wine!
Sprouting, coming up
Toast—the sun our work completes in time!
Spouting, coming up