Posted tagged ‘ManicDdaily drawing’

25th Day of National Poetry Month – “Thin Birthday”

April 25, 2010

Birthday Grapefruit

25th Day of National Poetry Month, and my 25th draft poem of the month.  As those following this blog know, I am writing a draft poem every day this month, and I sincerely hope that some of you are inspired to also try some drafts.

The following poem has a rhyme scheme I just made up;  I suppose it could be considered a modified (and much less musical) terza rima.  The stanzas are three lines, with the first two lines of each stanza rhyming as a couplet, and the third line rhyming with the third line of the next stanza:  AAB, CCB, DDE, FFE, GGH, IIH.  (It makes more sense if you look at the poem, although, because many of the rhymes are slant rhymes, it may not make that much more sense!)

Thin Birthday

On one birthday when she was very thin,
he brought out, after much whispering,
a half-grapefruit set upon a platter.

It was their birthday cake platter–wooden,
painted with blue ribbon swirl, holes put in
careful spaces along its perimeter.

The lone half grapefruit balanced in the place
for cake; a pink candle centering its face
like a faded, twisted cherry, stretched out tall.

He looked at her with such worry, not
(she thought) for her condition, but to please.  What
to give a child stuck in rigid refusal?

She’d disdain cake, she’d groan (he knew), oh Dad.
So, for her to weep, to get so very sad,

was quite unfair.  I wanted to give you

something you would take, he said, as they sat
out in the car and he awkwardly pat
her arm, reaching for something flesh and true.

 

(This poem was posted some time ago, but I’m linking it today, May 31, 2012 (the day before my birthday in fact) to Imperfect Prose, hosted by Emily Wierenga, who’s publishing a book on anorexia.

Since this original post, the poem has also been published in my book of poetry, “Going on Somewhere,” by Karin Gustafson, available on Amazon.   Check it out!!!!

(As always, all rights reserved.)

16th Day of National Poetry Month – Vacationing Away From New York Limericks

April 16, 2010

New Yorker In a Car (Outside of New York)

Unfortunately, this 16th day of National Poetry Month was so busy I had little time to focus on much poetic.  A good day, in short, for draft limericks!

I’m sorry to say that the limericks I did  (which connect as one longer poem draft) have a fairly limited subject matter;  they describe that feeling of “going to seed” which may descend on vacation, particularly a family vacation, in which normal exercise and eating routines are put to the side; this feeling may be particularly pronounced in the case of the peripatetic New Yorker.

The limerick form is five lines, with a rhyme scheme that is typically: A, A, b, b, A; with the first, second and fifth rhyming lines longer than the truncated couplet of the third and fourth lines.

Traveling New Yorker

There was an old gal from New York
who watched what she put on her fork;
still, outside the confines
of the Four and Five lines,
she felt herself turning to pork.

The thing is that life in the City
made her walk through the nit and the gritty,
while, whenever afar,
she traveled by car,
quite bad for the hips, more’s the pity.

So she worried, this gal from Manhattan,
as she felt herself fatten and fatten–
too many fast treats–
too many cheap eats–
and just about all came au gratin.

Oh, for her home—twenty blocks to a mile;
twenty steps too, till the average turnstile.
Sure, there was soot,
but she’d breathe it on foot.
Once back, she’d stay put for a while.

9th Day of National Poetry Month – Good News, Bad News

April 9, 2010

Good News/Bad News

Good News/Bad News

And then there was the children’s book
about the man–look!–who fell out of
a plane. That was the bad news.
But, phew! he fell onto a hay stack;
this was, apparently, the good news:
that his back was not broken
through the intervention of
dried grass. But hey! there was
a needle in that stack–
which was the bad news.  Except that, wait!
He turned out to have a spare camel
in his pocket which fit exactly through the eye
of that needle–which was the good news!
for it took him straight to, do-not-pass-go to,
the kingdom of heaven, not
so much because he was a rich man
but because the hay stack hadn’t worked that well,
after all, not against a fall from the sky.

Fourth Day of National Poetry Month – Easter Poem

April 4, 2010

Here’s today’s poem draft, an Easter Poem.   The drawing done during Easter sermon on the Church program;  I hope it’s not impolite, but it helps me to listen.  (Also I  hope some of you guys are also trying some daily poems so that I don’t feel like I’m the only one being silly. )

After Easter Service with Music By Tomas Luis de Victoria, Francisco Guerrerro

One miracle of Easter
is that a stone can actually
be rolled away.  No Sisyphus in
Golgotha;  no Calvaric wheel
of samsara, resurrection not
rebirth so much as return.  (Christ,
unlike the Dali Lama,
was not even asked to pick out
the wire-rimmed glasses of
the prior him.)
But why don’t they recognize him?
Mary Magdalen takes him
for a gardener; at Emmaus, he’s
the only  stranger in Jerusalem.
Though I’m not sure of  what I recognize either
except that when clear single voices chime
together in a Renaissance motet
the soul exists for some while, and any stones
in the heart become simply the stuff that
earth is made of.


A Tale Told By An Idiot: Full of Bull(ock)? The Rielle Deal?

March 18, 2010

Michelle Bombshell McGee

The news, lately, is full of tales of men acting like idiots.  Following up on Jon Edwards and Tiger Woods… well, following up on Bill Clinton, Elliot Spitzer, Jon Edwards, Tiger Woods, and too many others to be mentioned… (wait a second, this is news?)  Okay, okay… .  Following up on a whole bunch of idiotic famous males, the American populace now has Jesse James, cheating husband of Oscar-winning Sandra Bullock.

The media, completely sick of health care, is making a big deal of Jesse James’ betrayal of Bullock.  Is there an “Oscar Curse?” reporters ask, a curse that afflicts Best Actresses?

The reporters’ voices are somber, knowing, smug (as if to say, of course, there’s an Oscar Curse.  How can a man be expected to deal with a hard-working, super-successful, wife?)  One suspects, however, that this question is mainly an excuse to flash a backdrop of Michelle Bombshell McGee, Jesse’s lover—who, for some reason, is called the tattoo lady rather than the tattooed lady (as if she inked them on others, rather than simply had the ink covering a super-majority of her personal surface area.)

A friend has been haranguing me throughout the day with the question of how Bullock could have been stupid enough to marry someone like James in the first place.  He understands James’s defection—”a jerk is a jerk is a jerk.”  What he doesn’t understand is how someone as seemingly charming, smart and successful as Bullock could have ever married someone like James, a motorbiker reality star, the twice-married ex-husband of a porn star, a man covered with tattoos even before his trysts with the tattoo lady.

All I can come up with is low self-esteem.   But it does make me think that maybe the news is not just full of tales of men who are idiots, but women who’ve also been a bit idiotic.   Which, in turn, raises the specter of Rielle Hunter

Who now, unfortunately, feels more than comfortable talking about her affair with Johnny Edwards.  “Had I spoken [before],” Rielle says, “I would have emasculated him. And I could not emasculate him.”

Do I really need to hear this?

The Oscar Curse.  The Rielle deal.

And maybe it’s not just men and women being idiotic, but the taletellers too.   The news stories begin to seem almost Shakespearean.

But not quite.

Big Brother In a Bowler? A Twit Who Tweets? A Poor Guy Who Just Got Carried Away? Translates Into No Respite For Robsten!

February 27, 2010

Bowler Hat With Periscope and Smart Phone

The entertainment blogosphere is literally atwitter with news that Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson are apparently a true life couple  after all.   While it seems a bit odd that Rob and Kristen have made such an effort to hide their liason (although it has been a PR bonanza), the weirdest recent incident revolves around one of the many who’s spied them out.

And who is that?  A Conservative British politician, Nicholas Clark, British Council member, who, spotting the couple at a cozy meeting in a London pub, tweeted about them repeatedly, down to the  “on the lips” part.  (As if Rob and Kristen didn’t have enough trouble with paparazzi, now they have to worry about British council members.)

Doesn’t the guy have something better to do?  (Okay, okay don’t I have something better to do?  Yes, but my excuse is that I’m not British and I’m trying to keep up a daily blog.)

Seriously, what happened to the famous British reserve?  The minding of one’s own business.

Clark later apologized “2” the couple, an apology which, it seems, was also made by Twitter (unless he habitually substitutes numbers and letters for words.)

To satisfy the insatiable demands of the followers of this blog for news of Robsten, I tried to do a little independent research re Clark.  I had a very hard time finding a Nick or Nicholas or Nicolas Clark (there are several spellings of the name in the Robsten articles)  who is a councilmember.  But I have found a Nick Clarke, a conservative Councilmember for the county of Fulborne in Cambridgeshire, who (believe it or not!) has a blog of his very own.   Aha!

(P.S. if Nick Clarke, Cambridgeshire, is the wrong Nick Clark, many apologies.)