This was a project I did basically during the pandemic. I started writing a poem a day. Once ‘real life’ started again it got harder to write everyday, which is interesting.
I have started to edit some of these mostly the kids poetry. I think there might be enough here for a book. We shall see.
I make no claim that much of this is “good” poetry. But I do make the claim that I loved doing it and I learned something and some of it makes me cry.
do it different
if you’re stuck — do it different
try a new, weird way
instead of drinking coffee
drink tea to start your day
used to wearing shoes
with matching yellow socks
how ‘bout trying sandals
or maybe even crocs!
like to eat a sandwich
with ham and cheddar cheese
when you’re at the diner
"roast beef for me, please”
always take the bus route
numbered fifty-five
walk for twenty blocks
or maybe even drive
you have to shake your brain up
feed it fresh to-dos
soon you find you’re looking
at a life that feels quite new!
joking pastry
hard to imagine
a loaf of bread walking
what if you saw
a pat of butter talking
would you laugh
at a pastry that joked
roll your eyes
at a doughnut that smoked
if food could talk
what would it say?
eat me please
or just walk away??
What makes a good poem?
What makes a good poem?
To be honest I can’t really tell.
One reader claims perfect genius
while another mimes awful smells.
Two different reactions
to the same collection of words,
perhaps the system of judgment
rings faulty and a little absurd.
A poem only just sits there,
organized marks on a page.
Consider this measure of goodness —
is it static or does it engage?
Do the words beg you to say them?
Gather sounds up in your mouth?
Find their natural cadence,
climb north then dip down south.
Others may have an answer
but I truly can’t say.
To me, a poem — to write one —
a simple, plain form of play.
be like the breeze
you have to keep on going
keep your ideas flowing
if you find you are slowing
hold on to this one knowing
the way through is keep rowing
like the breeze just keep on blowing
Smelly Feet
What do you think?
Do my feet really stink?
Should I go take a shower?
Even at this late hour?
I could go to bed?
My nose and my head
are far from my feet.
But they are under the sheets
the smell it might waft!
Is that why you coughed?
Best to clean first
smelly feet are the worst!
The Late Wake Up
Today I woke up late
Much later than the norm
Must have been under the covers
Calm and safe and warm
Now the day begins
I’m up and out of bed
The thing about the late wake up
It starts my day with dread
Because I need to rush
To move at double speed
The rhythm of the morn is broke
But the day it must proceed
In praise of crackers
I know we are supposed to eat
Fruits and veggies most
But I have to be quite honest
I really like crackers and toast
Something about the crunch
And the lots of yummy toppings
Here comes some crackers and cheese
I’m going for it and I’m not stopping
Decisions
Should I go
this way or that?
Decisions are hard —
like internal combat.
One way seems right
then the other peeks in.
Which way to turn?
I can’t really win.
The cycle goes on —
repeats and repeats.
Finally collapse.
Claim my defeat.
Pick one or the other!
It probably won’t matter!
But choose one I must
to get over this chatter!
Either choice is ok —
both end my dismay!
Decide on a way
with no more delay!
sharks and fleas
cats and dogs
sheep and hogs
cows and bees
sharks and fleas
animals live in different places
might do work, have different faces
I wonder what our world would be
with no creatures but you and me?
That would be no good at all!
We each belong here, big and small.
Sally Grundy
Sally Grundy
was a slug
slowest slug
there ever was
she would creep
just plod along
one short foot
took all day long
slug are slow
this we know
Sally was
the slowest though
These words today
These words today
Won’t come and play
They twist and turn
Then run away
I’ve started more than
Thirty verses
I’ve muttered more than
Eighty curses
I’m giving up
The words have won
At least for now
I can say done
Mosquito Bite
Something bit my toe
Could not have been a gnat
Must be a mosquito
The one that did do that!
Now I’ve got a bite
Itches like the devil
When my shoes rub the place
The itch it goes next level!
I’ve tried a bunch of creams
And soaks and serums too
Nothing seems to help
What else can I do ?!?
I have to just let time
Heal this horrid bite
Next time be real sure
To put the bug spray on right!!
What a poem is?
Are poems supposed to be pictures
painted just with words?
Dense, tense and grief-filled
or maybe even absurd?
Perhaps a little reflection —
a truth you find in life?
Sometimes a kind of story
filled with joy or even some strife?
I’m not sure what a poem is
though I write one everyday.
A picture, idea or metaphor
or maybe just some play?
Frustration
The feeling of frustration
Is one I don’t much like
Sensation like the water
Behind a dam or dike
The pressure keeps on building
Pushing ever more
The water can’t keep flowing
No waves upon the shore
Finally something happens
The bubble, it will burst
But until that happens
That feeling, it’s the worst!
Greedy Drool Dog
My dog is very greedy
He begs for all my food
Seems he’s always hungry
Always in the mood
He seems to like everything
Cheese and eggs and ham
He always comes a’running
When he hears the cupboard slam
The problem with this dog
He produces lots of drool
So when you eat around him
On the floor will be a pool
It is really quite annoying
Sometimes I get mad
But then he looks at me with love
Well, then I am just glad ❤️
Autumn is Coming
End of August
Here we go
Autumn is coming
Footballs to throw
Leaves to rake
Sweaters to wear
Pumpkin to bake
Haunted house, do you dare?
Let’s hope this year
Is better than last
I’m not encouraged
Wear your mask!
This time of year
Is my favorite of all
I may write
Many praises for fall 🍂
hurry flurry
in a hurry
have to scurry
activities
all in a flurry
one more poem
one more day
time to go
cannot stay