NaPoWriMo – Day Thirty – The End

Posted on May 1, 2021 by Mary Beth Frezon

The last day of NaPoWriMo 2021 has come and gone. It’s always a bittersweet moment for everyone participating. Perhaps some feel relieved. Thirty days is a push when you are trying to write something everyday. Snatching something from the air and putting it out there in words.

Keep on poets everywhere. See you next year if not sooner! Thanks to all my April visitors and for the reading and comments on my writings here. Means a lot.

In a swirl of green
April morphs to May
juncos to robins
last year’s leaves
tomorrow’s flowers
in a whorl of green

In a whorl of green
overnight the world changes
April bcomes May.

x

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NaPoWriMo – Day Twenty-nine

Posted on April 29, 2021 by Mary Beth Frezon

I listened to Billy Collins talking and reading tonight. And then I listened to a whole lot of people reading a whole lotta poems in celebration of National Poetry Month – an event put on by the Academy of American Poets.

Even the NYTimes and NPR have been talking this month about how poetry has been especially important in the past year.

Well, we already knew that, but now it’s time for a little sleep on this penultimate night of Poetry Month.

I listened to so many words
my ears were swimming in the
familiar currents and
the unexpected rip tides
the waves leapt up
I fell into the trough
and rose again triumphant
from the brimming sea.

Billy Collins recently had cataract surgery and is still amazed to find that he can read without glasses. I wrote a quick haiku during the broadcast based on what he mentioned as “a bowl of glasses” needing a new purpose.

a bowl of glasses
gathered, reminiscing
after surgery

The poet tonight paused
to consider the habit
of wearing glasses

A side benefit
of cataract correction
a new view on life.

I asked the cats to pose like poets for their book jackets and this:

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NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-eight

Posted on April 29, 2021 by Mary Beth Frezon

Mom texts me to say
she’s resting after gardening.
she’s been out since eight
turning soil
filling and emptying
the rusty old wheelbarrow
scarfing around plants
she put in early this year.
Now resting happily.
I put my feet into my sandals
taking my first sip of coffee.

Trying to keep up
with mom on the day to day
at times, exhausting

Later in the day Fedex delivered my new Dutch Oven – now cooking can be like weight-lifting!

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NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Seven

Posted on April 27, 2021 by Mary Beth Frezon

To make up for yesterday’s late post, how about a super early one today? And triggered by the prompt given by NaPoWriMo! Woot! What’s not to like about a sorrow thusly:

The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

ringlorn

adj. the wish that the modern world felt as epic as the one depicted in old stories and folktales—a place of tragedy and transcendence, of oaths and omens and fates, where everyday life felt like a quest for glory, a mythic bond with an ancient past, or a battle for survival against a clear enemy, rather than an open-ended parlor game where all the rules are made up and the points don’t matter.

Well, it had to happen like this (even if in extended-haiku form):

Where are my dragons?
Where is my brooding chieftain?
Where my ancient song?
Is this journeying
the map of forever times
before the namings?
Before the hours known
when time arched but endlessly
when days were but one
let me quench my thirst
for the momentary joys
and peace of nightfall
let me drink in lust
like the rage of long battle
let me smooth your brow
in the stillest night
you won’t hear my quiet prayer
for your safe keeping
but know that I pray
and watch for you on the road
holding tight that joy
The night full of prayer
The raging of dragons long
The happiness of return

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NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Six

Posted on April 27, 2021 by Mary Beth Frezon

Late but it’s still Day Twenty-six on the left coast. Mom and I went out today – to the art supply store and to an office supply store. `I got the few things I “needed” but there might have been more want going on than actual need. And we came home exhausted from the novelty of being out. It’s not the first time we’ve been out but it’s the first we felt no need to rush in and out I guess. We shopped.

In a moment of sheer
I’m not even sure what
desperation? need?
Whatever. I bought
a box of pencils.
Limited edition,
high end, legendary
pencils. A dozen of them.
And three tiny notebooks.
The kind that just fit in
my current pockets.
I don’t carry pencils there
but a fountain pen. Or two.
And with these things I try
to capture the words that
flit past my brain.
But the pencils – those were
just a want. I plopped them
on the counter with the packet
of waiting notebooks, heavy
with anticipation.
Over time pencils will shorten
the erasers rounding
the pages fuzzing and curling
but today we are all shining
and ready for the universe.

And yes I came home with a box of the March 2021 Limited Edition BlackWings, the tribute to Woodie Guthrie. Take that you right wing wackadoodles – I’m a folk-singing-lefty.

Anticipation
Words stored inside a pencil.
waiting to escape.

Sometimes weird things happen when juggling or pulling things out of one’s pocket etc:

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