20 - always

For today’s prompt, take the phrase “Always (blank),” replace the blank with a new word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles include: “Always on My Mind,” “Always Wrong,” “Always Writing Poems That Don’t Sound as Good the Next Day,” etc.

Always, So Far, Another Day



We get so used to this.
My eyes open, read the titles of the books next to my bed.
And my body there, still - all ten fingers, all ten toes.

Lucky.

And standing.  Every day is a little bit different.
So much the same.  And here - a fleece cover, for the morning.

We are sensitive to it - the degrees of warmth
or cool in the light.  It is always just right.
Just as it should be.

We know, because we get so used to this.
The way November, for us, who have homes,
who have socks and coffee, who don't need
to think about the parables of Jesus to pass
early winter's nighttime hours on the corner
downtown
at 71

- I could use some shoes -

is perfect.  Always.

25 - wildlife management

For today’s prompt, take a poem from earlier in the challenge (that you’ve written) and remix it. You could take a free verse poem and re-work it into a villanelle or shadorma. You could re-work multiple poems into a new one. You could take a line from one of the poems and write a response poem to it. Or you can take it in an entirely different direction.

What's a shadorma?
Let's find out.

Shadorma is a Spanish 6-line syllabic poem of 3/5/3/3/7/5 syllable lines respectively. Simple as that.

Okay then.  Let's try it.


I have fish
the pond drew raccoons
And my birds
eat fish too
I hung the birdhouse out front
white cats wait below

23 - salmon thing

For today’s prompt, write an “I shouldn’t be here” poem. You can decide where you shouldn’t be: maybe it’s a place, maybe it’s a time, or maybe (just maybe) it’s a state of mind. Shake yourself loose in a poem.

I Shouldn't Be Here

Here I am again.
Right back in the same damn spot.

Every thing I own was touched, packed, unpacked, settled back east.
Then touched, packed, unpacked, settled right back here.

Should I be there?
Vice President of Something.
Inventor or Artist or Wife or Mother.

Then again, maybe I should be here.
In November, leaping upstream.

Right back where I started.
Thicker.  My expression settled.
Possibilities abandoned.

Maybe I should be here.
An imperative of some kind.  Unclear, but firm.

It has to be good enough that I made it
- once -
All the way out to the open sea.

22 - Suckerfish

For today’s prompt, write a poem using at least three of the following six words:

• ideogram
• remora
• casket
• eclipse
• selfie
• wretch

All too easy.  wretch, eclipse, casket.
Going with ideogram, remora, eclipse.
Funny - either set of words describes the books I'm working on.


Okay.

Suckerfish

The remora has figured it out.
Eat shit.  Don't rock the boat.
Don't take too much.
Swim along, attached, unnoticed.
Go where the host goes.
Get places that way.  See the world.
Parasitic, but modest, elegant in its way.
Become part of the ideogram -
a flourish, like a tail, or a tale -
that changes the meaning just slightly.

Regardless what comes,
- even as the moon
blocks out the sun,
stay there and - gently - take what you can.

No one will even know you're there.
This is one way to make it in this world.

stupid.  I'm not doing a poem a day I'm doing six poems a day every five days.  oh well.  ... tomorrow I'll catch up.

clearing some hurdles anyway.

zzzzz4now