You occupied
an odd slot for
an educational
institution like ours
Smart, a maverick,
a ponderer of horizontal
moves, a questioner
of nearly everything,
but you were one
who never fit, residing
as you did in turmoil,
and I wonder if you found
your place
and if I did enough
to help you on your
way to wherever
your way has taken you
for #mastoprompt and #openwrite
-Listen -
Friends who
arrive when needed
Songs to dream the day by
Comfortable shoes to wander off in
A path to follow into the solitude of forest
Two dogs — one young and one old — to play with
A best friend who's also my wife with whom to laugh with
Poems that arrive to write about after many inspired wanderings
Colleagues who support and push our collaborative teaching practice
Three no longer young sons whose lives are unfolding in interesting ways
Our house, with nooks and crannies filled to overflowing with shared stories
Paying attention to the world as close as I can to hear the places where magic sings
-Music -
for #openwrite
Let me sit a moment
in this silence,
reduced to the hum
of a machine, at rest
It's bewildering, at best,
this database, the way
predictive text paints
a poem with someone else's
words
or maybe inked of our own,
you never know -
some scraps of writing
past might now be
nestled inside the box,
boomeranged back
with a prompt
But I won't even
recognize myself,
reduced to numbers
and noise;
What's long gone
gets gobbled up,
and the future,
still a pencil mark away
for #openwrite
Her name was Katie,
with the last name of
Killer, and I'm not kidding,
either, and she wore leather
pants like a young Joan Jett
or Pinky Tuscadero,
and I swear, oh, I was tongue
tied whenever we sat
next to each other
in math class, and when
she asked for some help, I'd yelp,
until she turned away
to talk to someone else
for #openwrite
There is indeed
a note not named,
singing in the hole
between B and C
and while its place
is neither flat nor sharp,
its voice is borrowed -
half step up,
half step back -
we fall into the space
where there seems a gap;
the ear hears
what the piano lacks
for #openwrite
Brittle Grass
This deep thirst I have
goes beyond quenching,
I'm yearning for the rains,
the drenching of a sky,
falling, for how can you not
hear my quiet voice calling,
this broken cry of dry Earth,
a song for myself and
the creatures, below
for #openwrite
https://www.ethicalela.com/14040-2/
Snap Snap Snap Snap Snap Snap
Step Step Step Step Step
Snare drum crackling on translucent skin
the fife band gathers where the streets begin
the drummer raises stick in her leather gloved hand
then they step out as one, as syncopated band
Snap Snap Snap Snap Snap
Step Step Step Step Step Step
for #openwrite
https://www.ethicalela.com/transforming-art-into-words/
Take Five
Headphones and downbeats:
Dave Brubeck in five
four as Paul Demond
rhymes through a solo,
singing, for all time
for #openwrite (syllable poem)
https://www.ethicalela.com/making-it-count-syllabic-verse/
(A) Composition (of Anagrams)
in sonic topics
(with) moon potions
(add) soot spit pots
on top/stop/
oops: omit – omit – omit -
moot point position
for #openwrite
https://www.ethicalela.com/anagram-poems/
This world's
awash
in a music,
if we listen
to what we're hearing
birds
dogs
wind
leaves
engines
electronics
imagination
Pluck the string
to make it sing;
the melody's a memory
in the open key
of us
for #openwrite
https://www.ethicalela.com/word-association-poem/