Tuesday, April 22, 2014

In Honor of Earth Day:

Saving the Planet, One Saturday at a Time

I set out on a Tennessee August morning
with a strong mug of black tea and
four plastic bags of recyclables. The
15-minute drive didn't seem out of my
way at all, on a leisurely Saturday with
the new Over the Rhine album spinning
and the beautiful houses lining the roads.
When I drove up to Granberry Elementary,
I saw children, parents and grandparents
in the parking lot emptying their bags
and bins into the large, green dumpsters,
each wearing a silent smile on their face.
I unloaded my car and placed two of the
four bags on the pavement next to my
Corolla and went to contribute my
glass-bottle and tin-can offerings to the
green gods. When I returned to the
Toyota to empty the other two bags,
I noticed that they were gone. Looking up,
I realized that a young mother and her son
had seen my bags and volunteered to
empty them, without a whisper. On my way
back home, I couldn't help but feel good,
knowing that I made a small dent in the
refuse relief effort that day, on a Saturday
morning in a matter of three minutes.

Monday, April 21, 2014

Happy National Poetry Month: Week 3!

The Reason I Write Poetry

I notice things --
everything.
Then I get
lost in thought
about them --
why they're done,
how often
and by whom --
sometimes
at the most
inopportune times --
during a meeting
with a co-worker,
my tax advisor
or the dentist.
And then I feel
the need to
capture my thoughts
on paper --
so I won't forget them.
And, on most days,
I have just enough
arrogance
to share what I've
put into writing
with someone else,
perhaps to validate
that I'm, in fact, alive.

Sunday, April 20, 2014

Poached by an Egg

Finished the last of
the hard-boiled eggs
this morning and
stabbed my thumb --
the shell shards
actually drawing blood.
I never knew
Easter eggs could
be so violent.

Saturday, April 19, 2014

Happy Record Store Day!

In honor of today's international celebration of indie inspiration: 

If Melody Is Nourishment, Harmony Is Healing

Do you ever wish you could
drink music – first in soft sips,
then steady swallows, and,
at times, greedy gulps?

I need consistent installments –
like doses of medicine
carefully measured out
by the hours, days, and
weeks of the month.

It moves me like the
majesty of a mountain,
the splendor of a sunrise,
the openness of an ocean;
like the moment you know
that you're home.

Friday, April 18, 2014

This hairy haiku happened:

Gross(iato):
Finishing the last sip of your caramel macchiato,
only to find a small, curly hair in the bottom of your cup

Monday, April 14, 2014

Happy National Poetry Month: Week 2!

Matters of Intake

I have a friend who devours
poems like she devours
sumptuous chocolate cake --
with a feminine fortissimo,
speedily savoring each serving.

I, on the other hand,
experience poems like I
experience creme brulee or flan --
slowly, deliberately,
careful not to overdue it,
knowing that too much
of a good thing will ruin
the power of the moment.

I do not think either way
is superior -- only that one
approach is better for
that particular partaker.

Even now I am closing
a book of poetry,
instinctively knowing
when to say "when."

Sunday, April 13, 2014

Women's Work 2014

I've been invited to present my poetry at the eighth annual Women's Work festival on May 11th. Stay tuned for more details!