This week’s dVerse Poetics is asking us to consider calendars – whether it’s our weekly planner, a diary for this year almost gone, a brand new one for next year – and get those words down for all to see.
I think I’ll let the poem speak for itself. Please visit dVerse to read the other thoughts of my fellow poets!
– Glad to see the back of you –
This year I wanted time to stop just before I knew that I needed no more change. But only in hindsight, only after the fact (that I still can’t swallow). A bitter pill stuck in my throat, razor sharp edges that cut, a scab that I pick at just to make sure. That I loved you enough. That I was good enough. That there was time enough to fit in a life’s worth of you. There are too many dates that stick in my mind, numbers have the power to bring me to my knees. 2014 – be better. Please.
Here is this week’s entry into the weekly challenge brought to us by the lovelyRochelle Wisoff-Fields.
Here are the rules: Use the photo as inspiration, write a hundred(ish) words – and share! Here goes my offering for this week – and I welcome your comments again!
“Hey, Gene, look at this! They must have taken over the outside space as well!”
“I love the juxtaposition of its comment on the destruction of society… ooh, it’s so clever, I could eat it right up!”
“I know… especially when you think about the decadence inside, not to mention the gallery itself, established by patriarchy, funded by private industry. It really is something.”
“Look, I’m going to take a few photos. This will fit into my PhD thesis. My professor will be stunned.”
“Mind your backs, guys! Watch out for the dustcart!”
“Hey! Stop! This is a great work of art!”
“Err, no, it’s not. The dress shop next door is having a re-fit.”
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Click on the blue froggy below to read others’ offerings!
Today, we are attempting the ode in the style of Pablo Neruda, the Nobel prize-winning Chilean poet who developed his own style of ode, dedicated to the mundane, the ordinary, the everyday.
My mundanity is something most of us have to contend with, and yet I think we kind of love it, even if it doesn’t make us happy all of the time…
I hope you enjoy my offering…
*****
– Down the rabbit hole –
You drive me to achieve what I would fail to do myself – in the morning you hustle and chivvy me along to the rhythm of my beating heart – ‘Don’t be late, don’t be late’ you cry as if you were Alice’s white rabbit brought to life – every mechanical, clinking, clanking cog working harmoniously to save my from myself, from the terror of missed trains and the ire of irate colleagues – and yet my love for your dependability turns sour in an instant when I forget to silence you at weekends. O alarm clock – are you my master or are your hands in mine, when all is said – and done?