31 Days of Poetry{day 31} Endings

Welcome to the final day of 31 Days of Poetry.

I hope that you have enjoyed our meandering journey–not that a month can fully discuss everything that there is to KNOW about poetry. It just won’t happen since poetry is a lifelong study, adventure, and for some of us, a calling.


Starting tomorrow, I will be participating in National Novel Writing Month so my posts will not be everyday(if you subscribe to the blog you may be grateful or disappointed. If you don’t subscribe, why not? Enter your email address—-> and you too can have poetry in your inbox). I will be having guest poets for the first time EVER on the blog. If you would like to guest post, leave me an email address  in the comments or shoot at email to: sarahjaskins[at]gmail[dot]com .

Where do we go from here?

About halfway through this journey, I had an idea for 2013. I thought it would be too big, too hard, and too much work. I’m doing it anyway.

I’m calling 2013:

The Year of the Poet

Starting January and going until December, I will be focusing my poetry on specific themes each month. At the end of the month, I will have an e-book for sale of 30-40 poems for sale. Half of the poems will be on the website, but half will only be available in the e-book. Excited? Me too!

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31 Days of Poetry {Day 30} Storm

Welcome to 31 Days of Poetry

 

Storm

wind creaks

under door

under window gaps.

silence–stirred up loud–

nothing.

flashlight eats a hole

in the starless dark.

listen—

to the metallic chirps

like mining canaries

(the only remebrance

of power and light)

beep–beep-=beep–

i wonder, what happens

when they stop?

31 Days of Poetry{day 29} Seen

i’ve seen god walk in

upon the tail winds

of a hurricane.

felt the wind

pull on what tethers me

to this earth, this life,

watched everything

bend to him.

but sometimes–

god arrives, silent and slow,

on the back of my housecat

(wanderlust overtook him)

after i’ve given up hope.

31 Days of Poetry{day 28} Under Sky

under sky, under moon

silk sand breezes

up the shoreline, past the dunes, the sea oats,

we sit on army green canvas chairs

that fold up neatly,

drink deep the ocean weary sighs.

pinkpurplebluegreen

lanterns bobble to the breezes cut time

and we–

under lights, under stars–

lumber out of rhythm

(no amount of liquor

erases our white dance mama skills)

you pulse to the beat of the disco ball

finger pointed straight up, whole arm swings down, back up and again.

i hear the humming of hip movements, imagine my flip-flops to heels

in the night, i dream of long red skirts twirling out

a sultry voice repeating:

samba, samba, samba.

then–

we laugh and collapse into our chairs

and our familiar song.

 

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31 Days of Poetry{day 27} Links

Welcome to 31 Days of Poetry!

Today, as we do each Saturday, we have a few links if you missed a post.

Next week, sadly, marks the end of our 31 Days of Poetry!

But I have a special idea/announcement/craziness to announce the last day on Halloween.

Curious?

Stay tuned!

Now for your week in Poetry:

Day 23: Play

Day 24: i wonder

Day 25: Seasons

Day 26: Luck

31 Days of Poetry(day 26) Luck

sometimes…
i think this faith
is some cruel
gameshow trickery.
pray, spin the fortune wheel
clickclacklickclack
around till
one lucky soul
lands on the
jackpot–
problem solved.
while the rest of us,
keep hoping
for another
chance.

31 Days of Poetry {day 24} i wonder

i wonder–
if we spend our lives
wrapped up in ourselves
never escaping our prison,
would it matter
if we knocked down the ivory tower
built and crafted in our image
would we know how to live?
to breathe the air outside,
to walk through the cobbled dust,
to help another escape from her prison?
i think–
we would just start building
again.

31 Days of Poetry {Day 23} Play

Welcome to 31 Days of Poetry!

We have a lot of ground in the few shorts weeks, and we are shortly coming to an end of our journey in poetry.

Never fear, the poetry will continue into November, but it may not be everyday like this month.

(Brief tangent: while this blog focuses on poetry and the occasional society induced rant, I write fiction as well. In November, I will be participating again in NaNoWriMo aka National Novel Writing Month or the time of year that my Redneck Romeo may have to endure a lot of sandwiches for dinner. I’m going to write 50,000 words in 30 days. I would love a bit of encouragement too. /tangent).

That brings me to the issue at hand for today:

to be a poet, you must learn how to play.

in adulthood,

we drag ourselves from bed to work to home to shit.

repeat.

our weakened state

forgets how we came into our adultness

through playground games

and imaginary friends–

all huddled around the swingset

waiting for us.

Up we swung high

into the pirate sea

into the caverns dark

into cowboy town.

but reality crashes down

 as our dreary load

fueled by endless chatter

of tvsitcomdramareality,

and everything is meaningless

gray and brown–dead.

no wonder every child fights so hard

to avoid our colorless adult lives.

because

 we  have forgotten

the small child

living ing our bodies

desperate for air.

31 Days of Poetry{day 22} Dream

Welcome to 31 Days of Poetry!

What are your dreams? Do you remember their silken touch between dusk and waking? Or do you crochet them into the thread of your world? Maybe, we can ask with Langston Hughes where dream go when abandoned by morning, by a haphazard forgetter, by ourselves if we stop believing in it.

Where does a dream go after we wake?

i fancy

dreams float

not down from clouds

and skies and empty blue vastness

but up.

from those fears

buried in our earthen hearts

watered and hoed

until just–

the dream announces

itself like an old-fashion social call,

card in hand and jerks us

down the dark alley.