It is Yolonda’s birthday. To celebrate with NaPo, I am to write an index poem (me neither). I could use language from any index or invent one. It is kind of an index to parts of her life.
Yo’s Index (chronological)
Arrival in Cisco, 47; Commencement into the World, 64; Abilene Discovery 65; Blissfulness, 66; PA pronouns after laughing in the Chapel, 66; Travels of Ankara, Turkey, 67; War Hymns, Chig-gar-roo-gar-rems, Hullabaloos, Caneck! Caneck! and au revoir Air Force, 68; Hello Number One, 71; Woodville bounce-back, 72; O-1 with you (she’s back), 72; here/there/everywhere, 73; Hello Cowtown, 74; Welcome two to the gene pool, 74; Redneck Mothers, 75; Happy alert Thursday, 76; How much more of this?, 77; She was number three to stroke back Mother’s Day, 78; Goodbye Stranger, 79; Island fever, 80-82; Missed the bus, 83; Rabbit fever, 84; Rancho Swimming, 83-95; Goodbye friends, 86; Ride the Fiesta, 86-92; Shadows of darkness; 90-97; All Hell breaks loose, 96; Heaven sent, 99-01; Hell sent, 02-07; Emerald water/white sand, 12; The three mountains and it’s 50 as we, 15-17; Near Austin City Limits, 18-23.
Look both ways.
It all boils down to a book of life, which requires an index.
Mind the gaps and always remember names and places.
“Okay, but is it a poem?”
One week to go. Then poetry month and the NaPo challenge conclude.
Today we are to write a poetic review of something that isn’t normally reviewed. Define normal. Define review. I did a little rabbit hole hunting for things that should not be, but are reviewed. One guy reviewed life, and I thought it was great. I wrote a humorous epistolary poem.
Dear God,
I’ve tested this free soul
every day of my long life (thank you).
I understand this review
will be kept confidential.
First, my old soul has not aged well.
Mold and fungus are all over it.
What is it supposed to do again?
It seems to be useless like my appendix,
wisdom teeth, and nipples.
It’s just easier to remove.
How can I write a QA review
if no one knows what it is
supposed to do? One lady said that you
use it to keep score. Another said,
“you’ll find out soon enough.”
I felt threatened but don’t know why.
When I took it out, I noticed
feeling lighter with less guilt.
Is that normal for a soulless man?
I don’t see this part lasting
for the full length of eternity.
I’ve lost the receipt, the warranty,
maintenance records, and instructions.
Satan low balled me then refused to buy it.
The local body shop won’t touch it.
To be honest, this OEM soul
seems mighty worn out considering
it will not move and does absolutely nothing.
And what about soul music
and soul food? Is there more than
one kind, or is it a lot number thing?
Basically, my overall review and feedback
is that if this thing has a purpose,
please advise, and I will test accordingly.
Otherwise, I’m sure your QA department
can provide further information.
Sincerely,
Bill
Look both ways when reading reviews.
At the extremes, they’re often emotional nonsense.
Mind the gaps when someone tries to explain useless parts.
Click on the NaPo 2023 button to see the challenge and to read more poems (not all are on prompt).
For this Earth Day, also a Saturday, I was to select an Emily Dickinson poem and change it by removing dashes and line breaks. I was then to add my own breaks as well as to add, remove, or change words. Basically, I was to make a Dickinson poem mine.
As I read various versions of her many poems, I learned that others over the years have taken license to make changes to the point that I cannot determine original forms or words. In the case of one book I have, an entire stanza of a poem was either added by one or deleted by the other.
Because today is Earth Day, I chose a Dickinson poem that relates to nature: “The Mushroom is the Elf of Plants” – (1350); or XXV, page 97, in my copy of The Collected Poems of Emily Dickinson (intro and notes by Rachel Wetzsteon). Generally, Dickinson did not title her poems, thus the numbers.
Bill’s Magic Trifle
The Liberty Mushroom is
the elf of plants at evening,
but not at morning, in its truffled magic hut
it stopped upon a spot as if it always hesitated.
Yet, its whole life is shorter
than a snake’s delay
and faster than the strike.
It’s its vegetation’s juggler,
the ever-changing nature is like a bubble
on the ground or floating to the trees.
I feel as if the grass was pleased as I
to have it grow in and among her blades of
scion of Summer’s circumspect.
If Nature had a more supple face
or she could pick a favorite fairy;
if Nature had an apostate fungus
the lowly liberty cap mushroom would be him!
And a favorite ‘shroom among us.
Look both ways because then is not now.
Mind the gaps left by migration and imagination.
Happy Earth Day.
Click on the NaPo 2023 button to see the challenge and to read more poems (not all are on prompt).
My assignment (okay, prompt) for today was to choose a word from a list of 14, then to use that abstract noun to title a poem with short lines containing one or more invented words. I chose calm.
Calm I recall
from long ago
Dad saying
“If you don’t
stop crying
I’ll give you
something
to cry about.”
That worked
as well as
“calm down.”
He never did.
I had plenty
of reasons
to cry.
I should have
laughed.
Mom said
I was being
demonstrative;
she meant emotional
or dramatic
or histrionic,
or noncalm,
or theatratic.
Now I’m calm,
laid back,
easy going.
Boring.
Now it seems
I should inflate
my former
theatricality.
Look both ways in a world flooded with emotions, actors, and lies.
Mind the gaps trying to find the facts.
Play your role.
Click on the NaPo 2023 button to see the challenge and to read more poems (not all are on prompt).
Today, I am NaPo-challenged to compose an abecedarian poem – a poem in which the word choice follows the order of the alphabet. It may be a 26-word piece in alphabetical order (a boy can dance… etc.), or a poem of 26 lines with the first letter of the first word of each line following the order of the alphabet. I chose the latter.
I decided to free-style a poem using alphabetized band and singer names with comment.
Music by the Letters
ABBA set the stage for glam-bands
Blondie, Boston, or Brooks & Dunn: you choose
CCR Cream(s) Chicago, but love ‘em all
Dire Straits did the Walk of Life into self-destruction
Elephant Revival caught the White Rabbit best
Fleetwood Mac’s “Tusk” inspired my marathons
Grateful Dead’s name was Garcia’s dictionary find
Haddaway had his heyday in the nineties
Isaac Hays might have gotten off the Shaft, but
Journey, like some greats, never won a Grammy (dumb)
Kiss, likewise, but was named for “Psycho Circus”
Lynyrd Skynyrd, another no-Gram, not for Free Bird or ‘bama
Melanie still roller skates without a brand new key
Neil Young barely dances these days under a Harvest Moon
Otis Redding still longs for his songs from The Dock of the Bay
Patsy Cline still makes me Crazy and I Fall To Pieces
Queen rocks this boho as champions of rhapsody (no Grammy?)
Roy Orbison was a Traveler, but got me with Pretty Woman
Stealers Wheel stuck me in the middle with you looking in
T. Rex bangs a gong when I Get It On with Hot Love
Uriah Heep’s Lady in Black had some Easy Livin’
Village People remind me the Y.M.C.A. is In the Navy.
Willie Nelson will live forever On the Road Again
XTC sang Dear God and now is no more
Yes still thinks Love Will Find a Way, but hey ho,
ZZ Top bottoms the list like a Tush in La Grange.
Look both ways with music finding better days.
Mind the gaps and carful not to scratch them records.
Just what is a Grammy, anyway?
*Click on the NaPo 2023 button to see the challenge and to read more poems (not all are on prompt).
On the 13th day I was to write a short poem that follows the beats of a classic joke. My poem should emphasize the interplay between the form of the poem and the punchline.
I use humor. But today? Nada. In desperation I am posting this just so that I post “on prompt” and do not get behind. (Nobody said it had to be good.) I hope to do better tomorrow. Anyway…
Doctor, doctor,
what is wrong with me?
Each morning
when I look into the mirror
I feel like throwing up.
What is wrong with me?
The doctor says
he doesn’t know
then adds,
“but your eyesight
is perfect.”
Look both ways when contemplating the literal and the ironic.
Mind the gaps. Even the best comics flop sometimes.
Click on the NaPo 2023 button to see the challenge and to read more poems (not all are on prompt).
It’s another hump day and I’ve written (to prompt) a poem that “addresses itself or some aspect of itself.”
I attempted a bit humor using personification, elements of poems, and dialogue (dialogue poems are legit) between two old poem friends.
If I get ripped for being a little sexist, so be it. Bukowski, I’m not.
The Dialogue Readings
Frankie. Wake up! We have a problem.
My name is Francesca. Not Frankie.
What is it now Gabbie?
I’m Gabriella.
Whatever. What’s your problem?
It’s poetry month and he’s picking poems
to read at that open mic thingy.
So what? He does that every month.
He abandoned us years ago.
Now he wants to dress me up and take me out.
He wants to upgrade my imagery.
My metaphor needs to be adjusted.
This scheme makes my verse look fat.
Look, my couplets are sagging!
And my rhymes sound forced.
Gabbs, all rhymes are forced, don’t worry.
And your couplets are pure soliloquy.
What meter will he dress me in?
I’ve lost my rhythm and sorry,
but I forget what that metaphor was for.
At least you’re not a limerick. Or worse,
an ode pastoral haiku.
You got standup stanza, Girlfriend!
Well, I still think my verse is a bit terse,
And my assonance isn’t what it was.
But my onomatopoeia still got its boom-boom.
Sounds wonderful. What are you going to wear?
I think my sonnet bonnet beats that old free verse fedora.
Over my enclosed rhyme-wear, that pentameter blouse
goes well with my cinquain studded skirt.
I saw some nice narrative-tercet flats to tell his sorry story.
You’ll be poetry personified, Gabriella.
Now let me go back to sleep. Have fun.
Hey, sestet, you’re getting read too.
So get ready, Frankie, dear Francesca.
What? Ode noooo.
Look both ways at the new and the old.
Mind the gaps, especially when you stereotype.
Click on the NaPo 2023 button to see the challenge and to read more poems (not all are on prompt).
Today, I was to write a poem that takes as its starting point something overheard that made me laugh, or something someone told me once that struck me as funny. So, one day…
Testimonial Tiptoeing
While walking to Bible Study one sunny Sunday
I thought I heard her say to me, “Sit on your hands
and keep your mouth shut.”
She may have said, “Please.”
I may have laughed,
as they say, out loud.
I don’t recall.
I hadn’t planned for this behavior,
nor had others. I was well-known
for my robust questions effectuating discourse.
But I agreed to remain calm and quiet.
Perhaps a little too proud of my oracular
transformation of boring topics into
heated disputes among those who cared
(maybe a little too much) about all things biblical.
I did my best. I really tried to make her proud.
With both hands literally under my arse,
and my lips drawn to a thin white line,
I was being holy as hell and doing fine,
until the lovely lady facilitating the study asked,
“Bill, why have you been so quiet?
Why have you not blessed us
with your usual wit and wisdom?”
And why is your face so red?
I don’t remember much after that.
The priest said it was demonic.
A friend said smoke bellowed
from my ears. I swear I heard a nun pray,
more impassioned than logical,
“May the saints preserve us from
this cantankerous old toad.”
Look both ways when contemplating all things divine.
Mind the gaps but give respect to get respect.
Sometimes a story is just a story and a joke is just a joke.
Click on the NaPo 2023 button to see the challenge and to read more poems (not all are on prompt).
It’s a poem in the form of a song, strongly rhymed and rhythmic. Two famous sea shanties, in addition to The Wellerman (listen, it’s fun), are What Shall We Do With A Drunken Sailor? and Blow the Man Down.
My assignment was to write a poem with nautical phrases to keep “the sea in my shanty.” While formerly career Air Force, I’m intrigued by submarines and aircraft carriers and the life sailors live. I decided on a poem about submariners, after knowing some and learning more (for a flyboy/landlubber). I used so much jargon that I decided on extensive glossing.
Blind Man’s Bluff
Shipmate, shipmate, useless thou art
you’ll be chief of the crank
or you’ll be walkin’ the plank
unqualled and unfit to smell a chief’s fart.
Yer like a dog with two peters
so confused in that bubble
a bluenose nub, yer nothin’ but trouble
below-decks with the cooks and the beaters.
The worst we got yet from rottin’ o’Groton
yer too fuckin’ green to sit in the box.
Today yer a FLOB washing my socks.
We’ll rig for red and drop you in Boston.
Shipmate, shipmate, you’re new to the crew.
Bubblehead, bubblehead, give me a clue.
Carry on with target prosecution that’s true,
a fish in the water with the firing solution.
What’s that? A dolphin on your chest?
And the COB now thinks yer one of the best.
Sooner than sonar our service’s a test,
an a-ganger now, yer the best of the rest.
With orders all ahead full cavitate,
it’s hard for the skimmers to fully appreciate
the pukas in our honeycomb tube
remember your days as a dumbass nub-noob.
Shipmate, shipmate, here we go again
bubblehead, bubblehead, give us a clue.
We’re just out of Groton all shiny and new.
We’ll be diving in soon, you tell us all when.
Look both ways, but things can hide behind a submarine.
Mind the gaps on the port and the starboard, but out of the water the rudder is right.
Note: I got the title from Blind Man’s Bluff: The Untold Story of American Submarine Espionage by Sherry Sontag, Christopher Drew, and Annette Lawrence Drew, published in 1998, is a non-fiction book about U.S. Navy submarine operations during the Cold War. I give the book 5 stars.
Gloss: “Shipmate” is pejorative when used sailor to sailor, but not usually otherwise. “Chief” is a senior enlisted rank, but here it is sarcastic. “Crank”s are the shit-jobs on submarines. The “bubble” refers to leveling the sub. A “NUB” is a non-useful body, unqualified without a dolphin badge (like a pilot without wings).
The USN submarine school and museum (I recommend if you like subs and their history) are located near Groton, Connecticut (USA). I’ve heard it called “rotten Groton.”
The “box” is a key location on a sub. “FLOB” is an initialism for freeloading oxygen breather. “Rig for red” is going to red lights to preserve night vision before rising to periscope depth. “Bubblehead” refers to people on submarines. “Fish” in the water refers to a torpedo. US Submariners are awarded a dolphin badge when they become fully qualified. “COB” is the enlisted chief of the boat. “A-gangers” are experienced crewmembers (aka, knuckle-draggers/tough guys). “All ahead full cavitate” is getting away quickly. “Skimmers” are surface ships and sailors. “Pukas” are small hiding places on a sub.
*Click on the NaPo 2023 button to see the challenge and to read more poems (not all are on prompt).
Click on the NaPo button to see the challenge and more poems (not all are on prompt).
“Good morning, Mr. Bill. Your mission assignment, should you choose to accept it since all prompts are optional, involves writing a poem that plays with the idea of a list. It may involve a list that isn’t a list, or any on the list of innumerable lists that exist. This assignment will never self-destruct. Nor will your poem.”
A list poem is a type without a required formal form. Sandburg and Whitman both used lists, why can’t I?
Listee-list
Johnny Cash wrote to-do (and not to) lists. On one he wrote to kiss his wife, to not kiss anyone else, and to stop making lists. That’s on my list, too.
Checklists in aviation save lives (best practices and emergencies).
We have music play lists of many kinds,
People to kill lists and shit lists;
A-, B-, C-, and even Z-lister lists,
movie credits and grocery store lists (on or off refrigerators).
Supply lists and tables of contents are lists
as are bibliographies and indexes.
Some have idea lists and lists of
people and things to pray for.
Lists may be random, ordered, numbered, alphabetized, or bulleted.
I eschew Christmas lists (gifts or cards)
and before we die, bucket lists.
Google has movies or books to watch or read,
or lists of banned ones, also wistful
best and worst lists of all kinds.
And within each are lists of credits,
acknowledgments, and thank you lists.
Contact and packing are useful lists.
Menus are food and drink lists,
but not always. We have membership lists
and job listings. Formularies are lists
of oaths, prayers, or medicinal substances.
There are registers, schedules, ballots,
and guest lists. Do you list enemies?
Conscription, by definition, involves
a draft list for armed forces. Santa,
it is said, has lists he double checks.
Look both ways when you make and keep lists,
especially ones about who to and not to kiss.
Mind the gaps because not everything is ever on any single list.
A list from Johnny Cash. Click on Johnny’s list to see Toby Keith sing “My List.”
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