#22

soft new hands

eyes that dance and fix their gaze

i’m not sure what to call you

what do i have to give you?

will you enjoy the things i do or find them embarrassing?

you have a waddle-kind-of run

it’s like the ducks you enjoy pointing at

i’m not sure if i’m too much of a nit-picker

perhaps that makes me not ready

perhaps it’s why you aren’t here

i am doing a series of challenges to show you though

i’m not sure if they are building the skills you want to see in me

i guess you should know i cry a lot

i maybe get more upset at inconsequential things than i really should

i’d like to explore the little wonders with you

i wish i could see you

and know your name

and what you’re like

 

 

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#21

we use koa wood to build our space for strength

and glass like smooth water tinted aquamarine for transparency

our garden rooted in place by the gifts we wish to give

our hearts created the foundation

the scaffolding rises higher than we can imagine

our dreams like an open window to the sky

our vision like a fireplace enveloping warmth

we search long and hard

and we waited

and waited

for the perfect place

it changes with us and understands how we shape our bodies

to fit the couch

and a bright ukulele strums as sunlight follows

welcoming those to this eclectic land

where a simple calm smile is paradise

and we walk among the spring tulips

the little rabbits and watch as the cat ducks find respite along the water

#19

my left shoulder linked me to the world

as one pivotal point connecting my intuition to reality

it allowed me to extend my hand easily

 

and then it was hit

and then this left shoulder froze up

and then it didn’t want to move any more

and it rebelled against any kind of movement that connected it

 

the anger it felt

it just went through the motions

leaving it to others to take care of

since it knew what happened when it tried

 

it wanted to heal

it just didn’t know it had to

and every time this shoulder twisted forward

it would only go so far

 

we all knew it could do more

 

still it scoffed at anything imaginative

or big

or difficult

as something for other shoulders to attempt

 

sometimes the simple act of this shoulder being in a room

sometimes this shoulder attempting in a small way to move

sometimes it began to uncover something new

 

it is learning to unthaw

that its toughness is not a brick wall

and can be melted

and when it does

its reconnection

will

be

magical

 

because this shoulder connected my self and intuition and hopes and dreams

to reality

stretching out as it does so freely

to eternity

 

 

 

 

#18

how can i talk about the love of a non-parent?

how can i describe the absent feeling of want and need

the uncertainty of relationship

the faltering actions or knowledge of past

how can i describe the loneliness that moves around in its places

the light around edges of corners

how talking seems to be a mountain

how silence is an endless desert

and how it seems to fall short

like a bad attempt at a romantic dinner

like a joke that fails to land

and yet the sigh underneath my skin

somehow pushes me forward to believe

i can do more

i can give more

i can be there for you

#17

the smell of sewers emanating down the hallway to the pool

mixes with warm chlorinated water

a see through barrier the only defense against this oppressive odor

i can only imagine the horror of stepping out from the elevator

to find

to be hit with

cabbage-y smells that stimulate retching

and meanwhile

sedentary watching

barricaded by tropical scented lotions

and peace candles

the unsightliness somehow vanishes

as if never there

in its place the familiar mechanic scent of whirring

all is still and seemingly sanitary

#16

Ok, so I need to go out of order in order to make some headway with this poetry challenge. So be it.

 

the spaces in between

cause no rattle

no, the soft tissue wrapped

strong yet pliable

the rhythmic pulse

and a quiet whimper

more of a strained wheeze

though this sound is not typical

as the whimper fades away

a hum emerges matching the sound of horizons

and deep forest spaces

and places considered sacred

Poetic License

So the challenges do far…

Well, due to life circumstances, I scrapped the screenwriting challenge. I gotta do it one year though. I just have more poetry than narrative story in my head right now.

But the poetry challenge?! If you have been reading, I’m sure you can see the result. The prompts are a lot of fun and definitely help me stay out of my head too much.

Here’s the thing about poetry though that I’m realizing (at least when I write it). I like my poems to be scrappy and less than perfect. I like when they are simple and yet evocative. I like them to use bold, straightforward words that are about complex things. I don’t like them to be too flowery. And I really don’t want them to take a long time to write.

Not that taking your time and going over things is a bad thing. Like have you ever seen a Hawaiian feather cape or lei? So I intricate! I appreciate so much! To make this lei or cape you need feathers from a certain kind of bird. You don’t just go out and kill a bunch of these birds and take their feathers though. No! You let the birds live. You only take one or two so obviously in a cape of a certain size it’s going to take forever to make a cape like this.

It’s not that I don’t have that kind of patience. I just like to do a little bit sometimes and switch gears. One day I will attempt something longer and that takes years to create.

I’m trying to do my poems in order and sometimes the set-up is more involved. Like the one I’m on now involves other people, so it may be a while until I blast through that one.

I used to feel really sheepish about my poetry because I didn’t really ever learn specifically how to write it. I’m just doing it. Sometimes it comes out reasonable. Then I read like straight-up poets and I’m like WHY DID YOU DO THAT THIS IS SO GOOD MY WORDS ARE POLLUTING SPACE.

And then I’m like 🤷‍♀️ well idk

So I’ve decided it’s fine.

I’m sure the folks getting my posts emailed are like, “So why’s Barbara posting like a whole bunch of poems all today?” I finally got a couple minutes to just go. Does anyone ever listen to drum and bass? Because to me, what it feels like to write poetry, or what I strive for it to feel like is a steady beat with atmospheric blends, warm mids and a sometimes haunting baseline that always makes whatever melody comes out so much bigger than it seems. Far off outer space sounds and glitchy sound effects that sound like glitter and feel like deep sighs of relief.

NOW THAT is what poetry should feel like

(if you ask me)

#14

a fox

in a moment of magic

little beams of light

to deeply connect to the world in a way others can’t

asks the question

which way to go

directions

asks itself

there is no fear of choosing the wrong way

the world is an opportunity

yes it walks

stepping into the uncomfortable space

to be resourceful

to figure out a way

all that abounds

is playful laughter

#13

awe

of aloha

how love

and spirit

how magic feels

life

like a mountain

like time

meeting love

and that feeling of freeness

breath

full of spirit

rising like mountain peaks

slowing time’s pace

to the expansiveness of dreams

newness

of vision

vast like the ocean

and how nature soothes

with a familiar call

#12

the experiment:

  • 3 minutes of nothing
  • 2 images
  • 14 words
  • 1 minute to write

 

the result:

(images whirring fan & expectation)

i don’t hear anything but the steady whir

and think this is not silence

and wonder is my peace of mind ruined

by wondering this

 

hear the whir

think silence

and wonder is peace of mind ruined

by wondering