A Poem a Day for November - Day 13: Writing (Well, Trying to At Least)

Writing (Well, Trying to At Least)

I’m all set:

settled on the couch

with my snuggie on

(don’t judge it was a present),

a big throw pillow in my lap,

my notebook on my pillow,

pen in hand.

Come Join The Fight!

“Seriously, who’s calling at this hour?”

I let my phone right itself out

before I attempt to write again.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

“I thought that had like 20 more minutes!”

I set my notebook and pen on the coffee table,

toss my heavy pillow to the other end of the couch,

remove myself from my snuggie,

and trip my way into the kitchen.

I pull my banana bread out of the oven,

leave it on the stove to cool

and return to the living room.

I stretch back on the couch,

untangle my snuggie,

stick my arms through the sleeves

and make sure my feet are covered.

I lean over and retrieve my pillow

and grab my notebook and pen.

I sigh, put pen to paper—

RRRRRRRRR!

“Oh no, those pants need to come out right away!”

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A Poem a Day for November - Day 12: 3-Inch Heels

My Boots!

Feeling a bit sassy this afternoon! Ha! Let me know what you think of this one! :-) Thanks!

3-Inch Heels

I tried not to wear my 3-inch heels today

but my striped knee-high socks

were just not working with my outfit:

short-sleeved, high collared sweater & a swishy skirt.

So (so far) today in my black 3-inch spiked heeled, almost knee-high, boots I:

climbed a ladder to take down a display at the office

(the top rung was a little scary)

power-walked 3 blocks from the car to the restaurant

(it was below freezing out)

moved a heavy table from the lobby to the back hallway

(walking backwards!)

rearranged the lobby

(table, chairs, and set up a mini-golf hole)

swept up after making a mess

(including kneeling down and up with the dustpan)

So, really, what I did:

I rocked today in my 3-inch heels.

And I can take you on any day!

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A Poem a Day for November - Day 11: People Watching

People Watching

I’m sitting at my favorite table

watching steam rise from my coffee,

regular coffee with just honey and Half & Half.

Bryan McPherson sings about life through my headphones.

I watch a musician tune his guitar

on the small coffee shop ‘stage,’

he seems lost to the world.

My eyes move to a young couple:

the girl playing on her laptop

while the boy across from her,

headphones in, hasn’t looked up from his phone.

A few tables away an older man

is splitting his concentration between his iPad & sandwich.

Behind the counter, my favorite barista

wipes down his work station between customers.

The musician speaks into the microphone,

“Test one, two... Hi, everyone.”

I pause my iPod, take out my headphones.

The young woman closes her computer,

taps her companion on the arm.

He pulls his earbuds out and turns to the stage.

The older man moves to the other side of his table

giving a skeptical eye to the young musician.

My barista sets down his rag and leans on the counter.

I smile, take a sip of coffee,

as the musician strums his first chord.

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A Poem a Day for November - Day 10: My Brain Has a Fucked Up Mind

My Brain Has a Fucked Up Sense of Humor

My brain likes to play tricks,

usually in the middle of the night

when I’m laying in bed,

snuggled deep under blankets,

comforter tucked under my chin.

I hear wooden floors creak,

water running through pipes,

door opening,

people whispering.

I open my eyes

and see nothing.

Then something moves

over by the wall.

I gasp, then hold my breath,

stare at the wall,

but see nothing out of the ordinary.

I tell myself

that it’s just the house

conspiring with my brain

to have a little fun.

I stick my tongue out

to claim my defiance,

turn on some old school Dropkick Murphys

to make peace with my brain.

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A Poem a Day for November - Day 9: Ramblings About Wandering

Ramblings About Wandering

A hockey game is playing

itself out on my television set.

I’m laying on the couch

phone in hand,

sipping on a beer.

I try to concentrate on the game

but every few seconds my eyes flicker

down to my phone:

check e-mail,

send a text,

check Facebook and Twitter.

After about the 8^th repetition

I mute the television

and turn on music.

I go from Rise Against

to Bob Dylan

to Charlie Parker

to The Casualties.

I give in to myself,

just let whatever play on

while I wander aimlessly around my house

being sure to stop in each room,

eating up time.

Back to the couch,

stopping to grab my notebook,

and I try to sit still long enough

to write about not being able to sit still.

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A Poem a Day for November - Day 8: My Kitchen Culture

Inspiration for this poem came from someone telling me that he was in the kitchen rocking out to Social Distortion while drinking wine & cooking. I was like, "Hey, I do that all the time too!" So I wrote about it! :-) Hope you like it!

First song: "Memorial Day" - Dropkick Murphys
Second song: "Beat on the Brat" - Ramones
Third song: "Kicking Up a Racket" - Stiff Little Fingers
Fourth song: "Bob Dylan Wrote Propaganda Songs" - Minutemen

My Kitchen Culture

Come join the fight!

blares out of my computer

as I lay out my good knives

(the ones I got during my

one semester in culinary school)

out on my kitchen counter.

In between random computer-selected songs

* Beep * my microwave sounds

signaling that my chicken has defrosted.

Beat on the brat with a baseball bat!

I sing along as I place my chicken in the sauté pan.

I decide my chicken needs some wine,

and I pour Merlot

from my lion-printed glass into the pan.

I dance across the kitchen

I sit and I don't make a sound while I watch the speakers pound!

and arrive at my cutting board,

slice a few tomatoes

and dance back over to the stove,

slide my tomatoes into the pan

and cover my creation.

I pour myself another glass of wine,

lean against the counter,

bop my head to

Bob Dylan wrote propaganda songs!

and wait.

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A Poem a Day for November - Day 7: I Walked Away

Okay, today's poem comes from dVerse Poets Pub's Form For All topic, Googlisms. I'm sure you've all seen a few of these before. Check out the dVerse link for an actually explanation. I used "I walked away" as my prompt. The picture below is what was spit out at me. Let me know what you think! Thanks!! :-)

I Walked Away

I walked away is not because the tool isn’t interesting,

I walked away because my aim is better.

I walked away is testament to the games,

I walked away is for the surgeons.

I walked away is because the legacy was being destroyed

by outside forces,

and so many people were.

I walked away is sure to set apart

Reservoir from the rest.

I walked away is more than a guilty pleasure

or an underground band coming up.

I walked away is the band’s debut seven song 12”.

I walked away is sure to follow in a few months.

I walked away is sayin’ it to me.

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