Friday, April 01, 2016

NaMoWriPo Time again to write some poems! #1 & #2

April 1st is no joke to me as it is Autism Awareness or as I like to say Autism Advocacy Month and National Poetry Month with it goes the National Month of Writing Poetry Challenge. Now, some people don’t take either of those subjects seriously, but I take them both seriously as they are both such a huge part of my life.
For this challenge, I will be posting a quick poem I scribble in 10 minutes each day. It is always an adventure as I did this for the past two years and am looking forward to this third, however, be warned that life events have been rough of late and the poetry may reflect that as it is always part of my grieving process. I’ve also been sick this week, so I offer up these two opening poems as through a very foggy brain, but here they are none the less.

The Brothers and Sisters “K”
“A” begins a stream of letters
Falling in line like eager soldiers
Marching in the same pattern
From beginning to end
Tumbling faster grouped
Together like tiny families
We remember “A,B,C”
“Q, R, S” and “T, U, V”
The larger groups are of those
Mysterious tribes with twins
And triplets gathered round the fire
“L,M,N,O,P” and “U,V,W,X,Y,Z”
But what of “K” that stands alone?
There a stop in the middle
On the way to rattling off
Those that belong together
“K” is cut away between
“H,I,J” and “L,M,N,O,P”
The curious “K” is sequestered
To be the pause in the long line
The rock in the creek
where the current passes round
swift and sure goes on by
as it stays steady on
standing a part of the whole

Apart
Where to start
Is it fair
To stand apart
Unaware
Of the deep crease
And sweet release
In a life lived long and sure
Come again
To depend
On those feelings deep
That creep
Past our hearts
To find a way
To stay
And increase
The silence
Once one is gone?
What I ask
What is this thing
That bares down hard
Like sludge or lard
That clogs the brain
Like a pelting rain
Because of the constant refrain
Of “he and she are gone”?
Slipped out for a bit
Is where I sit
Grasping at that cliff
I’ve slipped down
To that one vine
I claim as mine
Wagging my limbs to climb
To the top would be kind
As underneath me
I have nothing see
But earth and wind and sky

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