Metallica

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For NaPoWriMo Day 7, the prompt is to choose a news headline as the topic for a poem. Here is the news report I chose to write about: “Researchers Discover Faraway Planet Where the Rain is Made of Iron.” I guess you might call this an ironic poem?

Metallica

Use your cook pots for umbrellas, ‘cuz it’s raining iron rain.
I don’t mind heavy metal, but as weather? It’s insane.
The drumming is excessive, and if you can’t take the pain,
you don’t want to be caught out singing in the rain.

If you plan on going wading, I’d have another think,
for the puddles that you’re ogling seem to be full of zinc.
When it snows, most of the snowflakes have crystals made of lead—
not a pleasing prospect when they’re falling on your head.

Oceans full of copper, bronze and steel and tin
may be the place you have to die for to be in.
Silver hills and valleys, rivers made of gold
are all that’s left now that our nature’s all been sold.

Does tungsten please your taste buds? Can you eat the golden calf?
With no leather, those bronze slippers aren’t as comfortable by half.
Aluminum for cooking, some folks think can’t be beat,
but what you use for cooking you cannot also eat!

Now they’ve fracked away our water and melted polar ice,
Mother Nature thinks a world of metal would be nice.
So put away your appetites, for food will be passé
once the plants and animals have all been put away.

Say thank you to our rulers. Say thank you very much
for their self-serving decisions and their Midas touch.
Some of us saw this coming but the others did not see
They were too busy getting their news from Fox TV!!!

Oh dear. I said I wasn’t going to write another political poem. Well, the prompts made me do it. Once again.

Forward and Back Poem

You need to read this poem from top to bottom and then bottom to top to get the message. Sent to me by my friend Patricia Dawn and published with her permission. Love it.

Refugees
by Brian Bilston

They have no need of our help
So do not tell me
These haggard faces could belong to you or me
Should life have dealt a different hand
We need to see them for who they really are
Chancers and scroungers
Layabouts and loungers
With Bombs up their sleeves
Cut-throats and thieves
They are not
Welcome here
We should make them
Go back to where they came from
They cannot
Share our food Share our homes
Share our countries
Instead let us
Building a wall to keep them out
It is not okay to say
These are people just like us
A place should only belong to those who are born there
Do not be so stupid to think that
The world can be looked at another way

 (now read from bottom to top)        

Corona Confession

Corona Confession

My house is in shambles and yes, I’m contrite.
I shudder to see what was once a delight.
My Kindle’s been lost for at least a whole week.
Though I look and I look, I see not what I seek.

The videos loaned me a fortnight ago
still sit on my table, lined up in a row
along with a file, unfettered and scattered
of poems from the past that I really thought mattered

ten days ago when I resurrected
them from an old file folder that I detected
archived in a box hidden under the bed
(Though they probably would have gone better unread.)

Nonetheless, they remain on my table these days
as I wander around in a sheltering haze,
cooking a microwave cup cake or eight
and wondering why I am putting on weight.

Since there’s no one to witness my slothful adventures,
I don’t bother with underwear, makeup or dentures.
If it weren’t for this blog, none would know my disgrace,
for there’s no one to witness my falling from grace!

Prompt words today are contrite, shambles, grace, adventure and witness.

As an interesting footnote to this posting, did you happen to notice that little blue edge poking out from under the tablet on top of the box of videos?  Guess what? My Kindle!!!!

Earth Slaps Back

 

“As more is learned about the recurrence of Covid-19, the study also could have far-reaching implications for clean-air regulations, which the Trump administration has worked to roll back over the past three years on the grounds that they have been onerous to industry.

“The study results underscore the importance of continuing to enforce existing air pollution regulations to protect human health both during and after the Covid-19 crisis,” the study said.

Last week, the Trump administration announced a plan to weaken Obama-era regulations on automobile tailpipe emissions, asserting the rollback would save lives because Americans would buy newer, safer vehicles. But the administration’s own analysis also found that there would be even more premature deaths from increased air pollution.”  (Click on the link above to read more. . . .)

FOTD Apr 7, 2020

I have been forgetting the name of this tree for a good 15 years or more. It is hidden away among other trees and plants and it is always a surprise..

For Cee’s FOTD

Indian Shot Lily: FOTD Apr 6, 2020

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For Cee’s FOTD

Captain, Oh Captain

Image by Kyle Ryan on Unsplash. Used with permission.

Captain, Oh Captain

We need a precise president, not one who estimates,
prescribing iffy medicine while there are still debates
concerning its effectiveness. It’s time to mutiny
and elect someone smart who has ability to see
that fabrication will not do when truth is all that works
to save a world that up ’til now is reeling from the quirks
of one who simply opens lips to see what will fall out.
Our head of state is lacking brains—of that there is no doubt!

An engine cannot run when it doesn’t have the fuel,
and since our ship of state is being fueled by a fool
who does not know the difference between reality
out here in the real world and reality TV,
we have to be the ones who care enough for our survival
to oust this man who runs our country like a sham revival.
We need to put the bounce back in a country that is failing,
and elect a brand new captain for the ship that he’s been sailing.

 

Word prompts for today are precise, engine, bounce, mutiny and care.

Please check out the news report below regarding Donald Trump prescribing medicine for Coronavirus that has not been scientifically or medically approved:

https://www.yahoo.com/news/fact-check-trump-pitches-drug-042807813.html

 

Restoring the Garden

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Restoring the Garden

Mankind’s not in a bubble, we are linked to Nature’s plan.
There are no separate provinces for animals and man.
All the riches of the world aren’t here for just our pleasure.
What we do to nature, it returns in equal measure.
This folly has gone far enough. The fools must be curbed.
The balances of nature have been cruelly disturbed.

Take back control from those who unwisely wield their power,
or nature will find other ways to make us cringe and cower.
She has put us in a prison in judgement for our sin,
providing us with jailers who control us from within
while those we have mishandled roam freely all around—
Fly and swim and crawl and run, scamper, leap and bound.

Only we are prisoners and will be ’til we’ve learned
not to take more than our share or more than we have earned.
This absurd behavior of the naughty little boys
who have seized our planet’s riches as their private cache of toys
will bring us all to ruin if we don’t curb their powers,
for they cannot see the truth of things up in their lofty towers.

 

For NaPoWriMo 2020, Day 6: Write a poem inspired by characters in Hieronymous Bosch’s painting “The Garden of Earthly Delights. “

Kalanchoe: FOTD Apr 5, 2020

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Cee’s yellow iris is gorgeous today. See it HERE.

6:30 A.M. Vicarious Pleasures: NaPoWriMo 2020 Day 5

 

6:30 A.M. Vicarious Pleasures in a Time of Covid

My day is a guest who arrives too early,
starting the party without me to the insistent drumbeat
of a distant all-night party not yet over.

Its music sketches a portrait of my distant past:
wild nights, the sharp bite of tequila,
casual passion draped across my back.

Kukla the girl cat’s clever claws push me from my bed. 
Other than her insistent cries for desayuno,
this new day written across my life
comes with invisible directions. 

It smells like fresh-blooming plumeria
and tastes like Nescafé with Coffee-Mate and stevia.

It is too tame, this safe life with so many hand-washings
that they rise to my tongue and foam as I speak to myself in the mirror,
keeping six feet of distance even with myself
as I wait for the arrival and my capture
by this distant threat creeping ever closer.

“Sangre de Cristo,” mutters Jesus the water vendor,
taking his own name in both vein and vain as he
reminds me to keep my distance—
La señora, no matter how generous a tipper, now a threat.
I sweep his footsteps from the doorway,
set them on fire and gather their ashes for a poem.

The birds sing their way into my verses,
as does the snake that lies coiled in my kitchen sink.
I taste the language of all of them,
real life as surreal as any dream—
this world a wasp nest,
each of us sealed up in our individual cell.

Without a life, I write one for myself.
You are invited to join it here on my sanitary screen.
Make your rejoinders more clever than Alexa’s or Siri’s,
so I can dispense with the both of them.
Imagine me touching your words I cannot hear,
and make them less sharp than what you might be feeling.


A stream of family music from below
flows up the mountainside to pool in my ears.
I breathe the perfume of that family.
I savor its taste—tamarind, lime and salt,

the homeyness of bland tortillas—
and hope they are kept safe there.

I’m combining six prompts today. The five word prompts today are clever, portrait, distant, capture and arrival. I’m combining them with the NaPoWriMo Day 5 prompt which includes 20 explicit directions. To read other poems written to this prompt, go HERE.

  1. Begin the poem with a metaphor.
  2. Say something specific but utterly preposterous.
  3. Use at least one image for each of the five senses, either in succession or scattered randomly throughout the poem.
  4. Use one example of synesthesia (mixing the senses).
  5. Use the proper name of a person and the proper name of a place.
  6. Contradict something you said earlier in the poem.
  7. Change direction or digress from the last thing you said.
  8. Use a word (slang?) you’ve never seen in a poem.
  9. Use an example of false cause-effect logic.
  10. Use a piece of talk you’ve actually heard (preferably in dialect and/or which you don’t understand).
  11. Create a metaphor using the following construction: “The (adjective) (concrete noun) of (abstract noun) . . .”
  12. Use an image in such a way as to reverse its usual associative qualities.
  13. Make the persona or character in the poem do something he or she could not do in “real life.”
  14. Refer to yourself by nickname and in the third person.
  15. Write in the future tense, such that part of the poem seems to be a prediction.
  16. Modify a noun with an unlikely adjective.
  17. Make a declarative assertion that sounds convincing but that finally makes no sense.
  18. Use a phrase from a language other than English.
  19. Make a non-human object say or do something human (personification).
  20. Close the poem with a vivid image that makes no statement, but that “echoes” an image from earlier in the poem.