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 Posted:   Dec 30, 2017 - 4:07 PM   
 By:   joan hue   (Member)


We have LIMERICK and HAIKU topics for those poems. This thread is for other types of poems be they Free Verse, Shakespearean or Petrarchan sonnets, Clerihews, simple rhyming couplets or any other kind of poem.

I only aske that we not criticize what members share, and that we follow FSM rules, so I won’t use “isms” or politics in my poems.

It is hard to get teenagers into poetry, so I wrote this first poem because it was relevant to their lives. In our state, teens must first get a Learner’s Permit and drive with their parents for 6 months before they can apply for a driver’s license.

LEARNER’S PERMIT

Your long fingers circle the wheel,
nails chewed, carefully crimsoned.
Dad in the passenger seat calmly
calls directions. I, nervous mom,
fasten with palsied hand
the thin belt of security

We parents, like heavy hailstones
bursting crops,
issue orders, gasps, and hisses
until you brake,
commanding us to stop!

I sense the learners permit
trembling in your pocket.
In promised muteness, I stare
only at the back of your head,
High ponytail tail quaking in sync
with your long, silver earrings.

Turning left into heavy traffic,
you ease into the nearest lane,
turn on the signal, glance over your shoulder,
and easily slide into the right lane.

Suddenly my seat is a down comforter,
my foot no longer braking the floor.
You know to look for danger,
safe openings and necessary stops.
I’ve learned to hand you the keys,
permitting myself to finally hitchhike
a ride in the opposite direction.


TICK-TACK-TOE

My father’s broad forehead,
striped with deep horizontal
and vertical lines, forms
many tick-tack-toe puzzles.
Ancient maps on parchment skin
echo his travels through years
of six day work, family disease,
pride and failure of
progeny, and the simple trails
of daily discoveries.
To him these wrinkles are ugly
as he now stretches shunning hands
to halt my camera’s intrusion.
He’s blind to the beauty I see
in each pattern of sharps
and to all my X’s and 0’s
that fill every open square.

Members, chime in.



 
 
 Posted:   Dec 31, 2017 - 5:22 AM   
 By:   Tall Guy   (Member)

Joan, those are brilliant and moving. Poetry with a purpose and lots of heart. I hope this thread takes off and that you share some of your other work. It’s easy enough to toss off the odd AABBA in comparison.

 
 Posted:   Dec 31, 2017 - 5:56 AM   
 By:   WILLIAMDMCCRUM   (Member)

Two magic poems.

Joan is the FSM Poet Laureate.

 
 
 Posted:   Dec 31, 2017 - 8:00 AM   
 By:   joan hue   (Member)

My goodness, Tall Guy and William, you both are most kind. Thank you.

I do have more to share, but I am hoping others on this board will share their poems. This isn't my thread; it is a topic for all poets on this board.

 
 Posted:   Dec 31, 2017 - 8:29 AM   
 By:   BillCarson   (Member)

Nice stuff Huey.

 
 
 Posted:   Dec 31, 2017 - 9:33 AM   
 By:   OnyaBirri   (Member)


TICK-TACK-TOE

My father’s broad forehead,
striped with deep horizontal
and vertical lines, forms
many tick-tack-toe puzzles.
Ancient maps on parchment skin
echo his travels through years
of six day work, family disease,
pride and failure of
progeny, and the simple trails
of daily discoveries.
To him these wrinkles are ugly
as he now stretches shunning hands
to halt my camera’s intrusion.
He’s blind to the beauty I see
in each pattern of sharps
and to all my X’s and 0’s
that fill every open square.

Members, chime in.


I love how "Members, chime in" is given its own stanza, emphasizing the power and beauty of that final line.

 
 
 Posted:   Dec 31, 2017 - 9:36 AM   
 By:   joan hue   (Member)

Bill, add your own poem.

Cute Onya. I should have skipped MORE spaces. smile

 
 
 Posted:   Dec 31, 2017 - 9:52 AM   
 By:   OnyaBirri   (Member)

Cute Onya. I should have skipped MORE spaces. smile

Just funnin' ya. Nice poems!

 
 Posted:   Dec 31, 2017 - 9:56 AM   
 By:   DOGBELLE   (Member)

the door
Is a door to swing both ways?
a door can be large or it can be small.
it lets things in and it keeps a thing out.
barbarian at my door?
maybe sales person nothing more.
on a day to day living, I find doors can open smiles.
in a sweeping motion, I hold the door open, good morning with a smile.
A choice has to be made. do they ignore or do they reply in kind?
it's a simple thing that knows no skin? Maybe just a small justice for all?
but then again it just a door, it may be big it may be small.
it keeps things in and keeps things out.
I have the key after all.

 
 
 Posted:   Dec 31, 2017 - 10:29 AM   
 By:   joan hue   (Member)

Doggie, I love how you treat "the door." Nice job and good poem.
Amazing what you can write with four paws!!

 
 
 Posted:   Dec 31, 2017 - 10:29 AM   
 By:   joan hue   (Member)

THE FORSYTHIA

Even in March’s frigid air,
the forsythia blooms first,
a gold unfurling among bushes
of naked twigs and dead straw grass.
Like a singular shaft of sun,
it stands amidst gray skies,
a precursor for others’ blossoming.
Grass, tulips, roses
and petunias delay, waiting for
the accepting assurance
of April irrigation,
a stronger fist of sun,
and the ramps of
sprays and fertilizers.

How I ache to emulate this
first forsythia, risking my
blooming before others have
packed solid once slippery
trails of spring mud;
instead of always being a
June geranium, seasonally
rooted in my red envy
of its yellow courage.

 
 Posted:   Dec 31, 2017 - 10:52 AM   
 By:   BillCarson   (Member)

Bill, add your own poem.


i do comedy. And i do annoying. But i dont do poetry.

Tho this doesnt prevent me from admiring others' talents in this field.

smile

 
 
 Posted:   Dec 31, 2017 - 12:22 PM   
 By:   joan hue   (Member)

Hey Bill, we accept anything here.

Here is my most profound couplet.

This man we know as Bill Carsoney
was just arrested for grand larceny.

Like I said, profound! smile

 
 Posted:   Dec 31, 2017 - 1:44 PM   
 By:   mgh   (Member)

Joan,
You really have a gift; You would have made an A in my Creative Writing class. Have you ever tried to have any of them published? If not, you should.

 
 Posted:   Dec 31, 2017 - 2:18 PM   
 By:   BillCarson   (Member)

Ok here goes.

Show me a home
where the buffalo roam...
And i will show you a house with a lot of shit on the carpet!

 
 Posted:   Dec 31, 2017 - 2:21 PM   
 By:   BillCarson   (Member)

Hey Bill, we accept anything here.

Here is my most profound couplet.

This man we know as Bill Carsoney
was just arrested for grand larceny.

Like I said, profound! smile


Joanie, i do worry that your view of me is something between bill sykes, fagin, terry-thomas, sid james and Harry from the st trinians films! smile

 
 
 Posted:   Dec 31, 2017 - 2:37 PM   
 By:   joan hue   (Member)

Bill, love that AAB rhyme scheme in your Buffalo poem. Such depth!!smile

Of course I don't see you as Bill Sykes. Yikes. You are more like Robin Williams at the top of his comedic skills. (I had to look up St. Trinian films. Not seen them in America.)

I so appreciate the "A" mgh. I know you are a writer. If you have a poem to share, don't hesitate.
I had two published and also have many rejection letters. I just gave up trying to publish and now just write for my own enjoyment and to help me clarify the vagaries of life's experiences.

 
 
 Posted:   Dec 31, 2017 - 10:29 PM   
 By:   joan hue   (Member)

TO MY SON’S WEDDING

Newly single and alone,
I drove to my son’s wedding
and hit a fat black dachshund,
red chum spattered in a circle,
a ruby ring around my front tire.

The owner carefully offered,
“Not your fault. Female across the road.
Never could teach him the dangers
of these mean streets.”

His young son opened their screen door,
an older sister instantly retrieving him.
My sudden remorse for the boy’s strings
circling his flattened heart
elicited no permanent pity.
Next year a new puppy
will enchant his eyes, ensconce his heart.
Maybe sooner.

Driving slower now around normal curves
and smooth straight highways,
I ponder what to say, my son asking for last minute advice.
Hand him the ring. Proffer platitudes.

Let him discover soon enough a dog pound’s
renewable love purchased
for only forty dollars and a can of food.


DEATH OF DOXIE

For the first time in years,
my dog didn’t dash out to
dance his greeting around my car.
Unable to hurdle the barricade of pain,
only the drumming of his incessant tail
lead me to the corner where he’d dragged
paralyzed hind legs.

Called the vet, told the nurse, “It’s time and
I need to stay with him.” She snapped
“No appointments left, drop him off.
We’ll finish it later.”
She didn’t understand this singular dog
who was only mine, who feared a broom casually
leaning on a wall, who cowered from large tumbleweeds
summersaulting across my lawn.
So I sat in the office, holding his vibrating
body, waiting for the attention that
should be paid to one so timid and loving.
He would not have understood my absence.

The doctor muzzled his Doxie nose in blue Velcro,
unnecessary for a dog ignorant of cruel jaws.
As the syringe shot relief into his paw,
I held his face close, mumbling litanies, “Just look
at me, no more pain.”

His faithful eyes fastened to mine, and
then his kind heart stopped,
no glassy fading look, just
brown open eyes still trusting.
Only the silence of the stethoscope and
the protruding tip of his wafer tongue
signaled my invisibility.

At the desk, I paid with a check and my heart,
and left, trailing the loneliest objects in the world,
a disconnected leash and a collar circling air.

At my home, I tossed in the garbage
a warm, odorous dog bed and stained food dish.
At times I managed a smile when
thinking of his eyes that reflected no betrayal
because unlike Candy, I didn’t,
“let no stranger shoot my dog.”


 
 
 Posted:   Dec 31, 2017 - 10:52 PM   
 By:   OnyaBirri   (Member)

GORGONZOLA

I considered
Sprinkling you on my salad,
But I went for imitation bacon bits instead.
My mistake.

- OnyaBirri

 
 Posted:   Jan 1, 2018 - 1:32 AM   
 By:   BillCarson   (Member)

That Joanie
we're going to have to teach her
shes never seen
.. a St Trinians feature!

 
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