Saturday, April 01, 2017

NaPoWriMo 2017-01 -- 'In the cards' poem

April is National Poetry Month, here is my first:
(Today is also April Fools Day, I stuck in my granddaughters joke.)

 in the cards

. . . . . . come Christmas Day
I opted for some new cards
Tarot Deck was flung my way
My favorites, Joker and
the Ace of Wands.  Bid nine Wands
Nick was good

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . that year to me
My wish came true, got the cards
But how the heck can I play
Canasta these suits are weird,
swords, batons/wands, coins and cups
Ah, give it a try

.  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . just deal
I shuffled my cards three times
Dealt from the bottom and top
No one was pleased, nary one
Then out of the blue northern
a new place,

. . . . . . . . . . . . . Garden Party
Bob Dylan was there showing
Showing off his Nobel Prize
He pulled me aside, whispered
Clowns on the right and Jokers
on the left,

. . . . . . . . . . here I am, stuck
Stuck in the middle with you
Just then the Joker went wild
Wild with his clever riddle
"If my nose keeps on growing,
what will happen?"

. . . . . . . . . .. . . . . "I duno"
"If it grows to twelve inches,
well,  ...then it will be a foot."
I'm for gettin out of here
Mr. Joker, you are king
King of Fools

 _ _ _ _
Poem Copyright © 2017 Jimmiehov
All Rights Reserved

I'm linked with Brendan MacOdrum at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, A Fine Day for Sailing Away, -- Photos are from his posting there.

I'm also linked to Day One of NaPoWriMo,

Brendan's request, "since today is also April Fool’s Day, let’s cross or crown our journey with The Fool Tarot card ... wonders of the world await us in this 'Poems in April challenge'!" 

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Tuesday, March 28, 2017

a Poem for Tuesday Platform -- Sweeping, Dustpans, Crumbs

Sweeping up the crumbs

Seems my life has forever been sweeping up the crumbs
Crumbs left from the night before, sometimes days before
Even stretching onto days and months, seasons and years
Crumbs left from the night before.  Those crumbs we have

Most are from nights of enjoyment, eating, living to fulfill
Fulfilling the dullness of our lives. Pleasurable moments
Then the price to pay is the broom handle of the mornings
Oft time much more cleaning than the broom can do

I'll take the broom in hand, and the dustpan I've waiting
Waiting on the wall just for the crumbs of the night before
Those crumbs are from my hand, once in while from my foot
But generally there has been a partner as part of the crime

One tale I'll tell, you can imagine others. Innocence can
be an excuse, often for my partners they were. When a teen  
I'd found a package of 'smokes', lying where I've never told  
Grabbed my sister by the hand, to the creek we hiked 

Down by the creek we smoked, on the tree lined banks
You might can remember your first smoke, this was hers
It was big time for me, grownup like, mimicking their pleasure
For her it wasn't fun, she puked the bottom of her stomach

I don't know if that was when we returned to the house or it all
happened down at the creek. She tells her story seems each day
How she quit the habit after two cigarettes, Never smoked again
I've spent a lifetime sweeping early crumbs, naughty boys and girls

Those other episodes I've mentioned, some were life changing
Other crumbs from the night. A lot firsts for me as a young adult
Times only me, one or a few others, and God. Some I believe that
I'm the only one left alive to tell.  Some I'll never tell to anyone 

Imagine what, likely they be.  Yours too, safe harbor in our heads
Mine keep my broom going, dust pan getting full. Empty it quickly  

- - - - -
Photo and Poem Copyright © 2017 Jimmiehov
All Rights Reserved

I'm linked again with Kelly O'Conner at the Imaginary Garden
with Real Toads, The Tuesday Platform

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