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After Herrick – “Even During Festivities”

December 30, 2012

Brain in Snow Drift

Even During Festivities

The brain will strain against the now;
so hard to stay right here.
Mind wanders lonely as a cloud
above communal cheer.
“Above”
is not the word–for love
aloud
(but to itself) proclaims
“I hear,”  “I do,” “I will”–
all ruse of cerebellum’s Tao
to never be quite still.

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The above is sort of a draft poem written for a prompt by the wonderfully gifted Kerry O’Connor on With Real Toads to write a poem in a form developed by Robert Herrick.  Kerry sets great mini challenges with traditional and not so traditional forms  – this one has various meter and rhyme requirements which Kerry can explain much better than me. 

I have difficulty at times in group situations, parties!  (Though not sure this poem quite describes it.)  And my brain does seem to get stuck in drifts – even outside of parties.  (The pic’s a repost, I’m afraid, suitable for all too many occasions.)  

Check out Kerry’s post and, if you have time, also my books!  

Poetry, GOING ON SOMEWHERE, (by Karin Gustafson, illustrated by Diana Barco). 1 Mississippi -counting book for lovers of rivers, light and pachyderms, orNose Dive. Nose Dive is available on Kindle for just 99 cents!

 

Categories: New York City, poetry, Uncategorized
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Comments: 37 Comments

“Chugging Along”

December 29, 2012

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Chugging Along

Chug chug chug chug ka-ching ching!
Chug chug chug badda bing bing!
Chug chug chug chug clang clang!
Chug chug chug chug screeeech—bang!
Chu…chu… chug badda biii—-ing BOOM!
Ch…ch….chu…..chu…change.

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Here’s my (sort of) poem for the dVerse Poets Pub Poetics Prompt on change (and turns), hosted by the wonderful Claudia Schoenfeld.  I am not so great at making changes until…well, there seems to be no other choice!

Happy New Year’s weekend all!  I am in the country with much snow and, thank goodness, a working furnace.

(p.s. as always, all rights are reserved to visual images and text on my blog.  I would LOVE people to use my pics, but please ask permission and cite!)

Categories: Uncategorized
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Comments: 43 Comments

Cold Night

December 29, 2012
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Pearl Not Too Bothered By It

Cold Night – Waiting for the Furnace Guy –

I sit in a house
with hat, long-underwear, two
sweaters, coat, and non-
working furnace. Outside – several
inches (and miles)
of snow.
I find it almost helpful to bare
swathes of flesh
to the fire. You, between logs,
work on the crossword. Then the furnace guy
gets stuck and it feels suddenly
super cold.

**********************

55 frosty (and belated) words for the G-Man. And here’s one more. Brrr…..

Categories: poetry, Uncategorized
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Comments: 13 Comments

To the Avant Garde–not sonnet, not 18

December 28, 2012

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To the Avant Garde
(Not Sonnet, Not Number 18)

Shall I compare thee
to a summer’s day?
Thou art too hot
for lovely, too rough
for temperate.

Thy heavens lease decline (the lines
for the eternal
too f…ing long) and thou wanderest
the course of sometimes.

Thy eye, Darling, brags possession of that
that growest dimmed, but breathes
shine.

Shall I compare thee to
A summer’s day? But thy short
life/death (untrimmed) loses
“may”,
eases “shall”,
buds “can”, dates
the wind.

**^^*^******
Agh! I am in Orlando airport in a day of flying! The wifi doesn’t work so I’ve had to type the above poem on iPhone. I should stop complaining! But well– I have been in this airport a long time.

I am posting the above for Anna Montgomery’s prompt on dverse poets pub to write an experimental poem. The above poem only uses words from Shakespeare’s 18th sonnet–except that the f is the beginning of one word and the ing the end of another. There may also be some additional s’es.

Reading note: I only intend pauses to happen as punctuated and not with line breaks. Most line breaks are intended to rub on. (might make poem more coherent). Sorry for mucky typing. I think i got most typos but probably not all.

Categories: poetry, Uncategorized
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Comments: 18 Comments

Rainy (Christmas) Season

December 26, 2012

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Categories: Christmas, New York City, Uncategorized
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Comments: 5 Comments

One of the Meanings of Christmas

December 23, 2012

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Cookies to eat!
Cookies so sweet!
Not terribly neat!
Cookies like feet!

20121224-120147.jpg

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The above are cookies made in part by Drew Herman, Alex Herman, Meredith Martin, Christina Martin, Jordan Segal (and probably a couple of others). The bloodied foot was by Gabrielle Segal. I watched, ate, photographed. Wish I could send some through the ether.

Categories: Christmas, poetry, Uncategorized
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Comments: 13 Comments

Ill-Received Christmas Present

December 22, 2012

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Ill-Received Christmas Present

I understood
even at the time
that the cardboard Elvis
(life-sized) was well-intentioned.

The problem was not
that anything associated with Elvis should be larger
than life.  (The cardboard suit
shone gold, glimmering hues
crooning along the trouser folds.)

The problem was me–my life-sized inability
to rock around the clock, my biology’s SRO tenancy
at the Heartbreak Hotel–they keep me a spare room
close to the door–

I was already too
shook up and I thought you, who knew
what the warmth of flesh
could do
to me,
would know better.

I’m not sure I even
had the presence of mind
to thank you, though you at least
apologized.  Me
too.

******************************************

Ha!  The above is my offering for dVerse Poets Pub’s Poetics challenge on presents/presence, hosted by yours truly. Check out dVerse and join in the fun! 

Also, if you want to do a very holiday-spirit type of thing, check out my books!  Poetry, GOING ON SOMEWHERE, (by Karin Gustafson, illustrated by Diana Barco). 1 Mississippi -counting book for lovers of rivers, light and pachyderms, orNose Dive. Nose Dive is available on Kindle for just 99 cents!

Categories: poetry, Uncategorized
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Comments: 46 Comments

Downtown NYC Not-So-Kyrielle

December 20, 2012

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Downtown NYC Not-So-Kyrielle

Little black boxes line the street.
I don’t quite know how caught rats meet
their doom; just that this life’s sure tough,
though we cry uncle, Lord, enough.

Walk next by 9/11’s hole
now asphalt filled, pressed ash and soul,
where shuffling tourists huddling chuff
(and I cry uncle, Lord, enough.)

Tied to cell, a broker f-words:
“don’t tell clients to buy secureds==
our fee’s cut down with that f- stuff,”
(as I cry uncle, Lord, enough.)

Sidewalks grey; the sky-rofoam white–
day chases cAsh to black-box night==
I seek the lee, but find the luff,
crying uncle, oh Lord, enough.

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Here’s my (draft) version of a Kyrielle, a French form, which I’m trying for Gay Cannon’s prompt on dVerse Poets Pub Form for All.  Gay has a great article about them – my understanding is that they started from the idea of Kyrie Eleison in the Catholic mass, though have ventured far afield. 

A couple of process notes – yes, there are these weird black rat boxes all around downtown.  9/11 is meant to be pronounced “nine-eleven.”  (I’m sure you got that.)  (I have nothing against the tourists.)  And yes, a broker from a bank was shouting f-words very loudly today by my ATM at the thought of a reduced investment commisions.

Categories: New York City, poetry, Uncategorized
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Comments: 21 Comments

Frustrated (Filial)

December 19, 2012

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Frustrated (Filial)

I have my mother here.
I get furious at her, perhaps unfairly, because
she does not always understand people
who are different from her.

Often she is open, sympathetic
to all beings of the
world, other times
less so.

And just as she does not mean
to be intolerant, I do not mean
to be angry.  But old habits-what it meant/means
to be misunderstood–what it means/meant
to fail at being
nice–
die hard.  Anger certainly
won’t cover
lost ground; and yet we trot it out, an
old plough horse that knows well
its way home.

*************************

Ha!  Here’s a draft poem.  No resemblance to any person living or dead is intended.

My mother is, in fact, a very tolerant person.  She likes to get involved in political arguments that I personally find almost intolerable.   I just don’t like politics very much. 

Also, as in the case of many people’s mothers probably, she has a hard time understanding the demands of a second career as, for example,  a blogger! (Agh.) 

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Comments: 11 Comments

Stupor (Steubenville)

December 18, 2012

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Stupor

I don’t care what kind of girl (16)
she was; you don’t lug around, for
amusement, a person
passed out, undress her, pose
her (poking
her privates), possibly piss
on her.

And you, photographers multiple–what
were you
on the other side of your
phone’s lens? From what planet/pit
had you crept? Probocsides and digits
flywalking, snapping; clicking tweets
flesh-beaked–

In upload, no hand left
for humanity.

*********************************
Another terrible incident in the news, in Steubenville, Ohio. I make no pronouncements on facts – I only have read what’s in the paper, and what I’ve gleaned from that is that a fair amount of awful stuff seems to have been photographed and put online.

Posting this for dVerse Poets Open Link Night.

Categories: poetry, Uncategorized
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Comments: 45 Comments

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