Poetry Challenge 5.0, Days 8 and 9

Dang...I realized just before bed last night that I'd completely forgotten to write a poem, and, well, I was just too tired to care.  So you're getting another two-fer today!  I know - LUCKY YOU!

I received the best compliment today, from my Fiancee.  For those of you who don't actually know us in real life, we're THAT MUSHY COUPLE.  Yes, we have pet names that are so cute it's sickening, and we use them all the time.  On purpose.  The funny part is that we do this in private as well as in public - it's just who we are, and we like us that way.  BUT, when you receive a compliment that says simply, "you inspire me," it's something pretty special - no matter who it's from.  The fact that it's from the woman who will be wife kind of makes it even more special, because even after all this time, I STILL inspire her.  It makes me feel like a king.  It's good to be the king.  So, thank you, my love!!!!!!!

But, I have to get on some poems, and since that's what you're here for, let's get moving in that direction, shall we???

Hermit

I met an old man,
who from the woods came to town
once a year,
in an old flannel hunting jacket and dirty boots,
driving a 1952 green Chevy pickup.

We were in the coffeeshop,
I didn't know his name,
but he asked a lot of questions
about life, the news, who was the President,
and why did the auto repair shop close?

I knew all the answers save the last -
I didn't even know we had an auto repair shop in town.


OK, that one might make you think a little, and will probably seem a little off-beat to many.  But if my father reads it....or rather, if my mother tells him about it, I think he'll enjoy it.  Especially since I completely forgot to wish him a happy birthday when I talked to him the other day.  Yeah, my bad.

Boldog szülinapot, apu!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Pacifico

The tide rises within,
a subtle force moving, stirring,
ever so quietly at first,
gaining speed, momentum,
force, power, energy, mass, weight,
tumbling over itself as the ocean,
the ability to move mountains and crush countries
without a thought to consider the cost -

All harnessed inside,
a quietness, always the calm exterior,
a slow weathering away at the shores,
lapping gently at the sands and rocks,
keeping the true nature in check.

Most cannot see it,
will not see it,
prefer to remain ignorant.

I have built the world,
and I am its destroyer.


Thanks for reading,

The Fat Kid

Poetry Challenge 5.0, Day 7

TWO posts in a day, how could you get any luckier???  I know - you can't imagine it either.  I can't tell whether it's that you can't believe I actually kept my word on this, or whether you're that excited about poetry...but, well, I will choose the latter, even if it means that I am purposely living in a blissfully ignorant state.  What? Writers and poets DREAM!!!!!  Duh!

Searching

I close my eyes,
waiting for that moment -
that perfect moment -
when clarity and essence are one,
and pure thought rolls out -
a vermilion carpet for perfection
to strut its little hour.

Only, the moment never comes.
I am left waiting and wanting.

I know it will come again one day,
and I will once again take up its cause,
fulfill the destiny of so many words,
and in that moment, I too, will be perfected
by the strange dance of Inspiration,
Who comes to me when least expected.

I must remain vigilant.


Thanks for reading,

The Fat Kid

Poetry Challenge 5.0, Day 5 and 6

Oh wow - a weekend where you're pretty much not online for one reason or another is not very good for daily challenge poetry.  And yet, I do not consider it time ill-spent.  In fact, if it were not for the ability to unplug electronically and plug in to other aspects of my life, I would find life pretty dull.

BUT, here at Fat Kid Central, we made a promise, and that is whenever I take a few days away during a challenge, well, I have to make up for it.  So it's about time I stopped all this blabbering and do that.  There will be two posts today - one for the previous 2 days' worth of poems, and another to get me back on track with today's poem!  I hope you enjoy!

The first poem stems from the fact that I know too many people, myself included, that have had to say goodbye to loved ones recently.

Split

I split words
in to sounds,
take meaning from a pre- or suffix,
and so I can not under stand
how to say "goodbye."
For "bye" - the time off,  the in between moment,
is never "good."
It hurts.
I know it is a wish,
Doomed to fail.


The Man

I used to dream of the Man -
sitting there, just out of my reach,
as though still in the womb
and not fully formed.
I knew who he was, and every step along his path,
the trials that molded his being,
even the secret thoughts in his heart,
and yet, I could not touch him.
I moved with him, and followed him
shadowed him, emulated him,
I did my best,
But I could not be the Man.
Still, I tried.
I changed my face, I changed my ways,
I changed everything about me.
But the Man was always out of my grasp,
just beyond my sight.
And then, once day, I gave up the quest.
"Enough," I said, "I can chase this Man no further."

And then the Man reached out,
took me by the shoulder
embraced me,
welcomed me,
and with a smile,
I understood just how long the Man was chasing me.


Thanks for reading,

The Fat Kid

Poetry Challenge v.5.0, days 3 and 4

Hey Kids -

Remember that part where I said that if I missed a day, I had to do two the following day?  Well, this is me making sure you know that I was serious about that.  Yeah...yeah, that's what happened!  Well, it's a fantastic story, and so I'm sticking with it.  If you don't like it....well, too bad.  But enough of this wasting time blathering on and on like idiots, talking about nothing whilst pretending to actually make a point that has something do with you wanting to read onward....dammit.  Here's some poems!


Buckeye Tree

A white coating of snow falls
                                     covering the branches of
                                                                     the buckeye tree
                                                                                          with just a hint of frost, the last vestiges of the fall
                                                                                    hanging
                                                                             nature's
                                                         own decorations
                                                                  ba
                                                                ubles
                                                                  all
coated in snow
       


blowing

in the wind.



Hawthorn Church

I walked through a meadow,
the cold winter sun shining down its
wan light through the trees above me,
filtering through the red-berried
glass of the hawthorns around me, coloring my world.

In this, Nature's parish,
all must come to worship,
and all are colored,
red tinctured, under the gaze of the reddened afternoon sun.

I was there, too, for a time,
and reveled in the Glory
surrounding me,
that in that season of death,
I should see the life and know beyond all things,
that Hope does not fade.


These are two images that I have seen in the not too distant past, and they struck me.  I'm not sure I did justice to them, but then, the point of this journey is that  these poems tend to be rather off-the-cuff, so it's always interesting what might happen.

Thanks for reading,
The Fat Kid

Poetry Challenge 5.0, Day 2

Ahhh, so here it is, 10:30 PM, and I have yet to write today's poem.  I suppose I should get started on that, yes??  OK, since you asked so nicely, I will.

There's an old joke:  A man walks into his therapist's office and say, "Doctor, I feel depressed."  The therapist listens to him, and after some serious thinking, he says, "You should go and see the great clown, Pastorini - he's in town this weekend."  The man begins sobbing uncontrollably.  Between his sobs, he says, "Doctor, I AM Pastorini!"

The Sad Clown

Thunderous applause is to me empty,
     vacant, stopped in my ears
     like so much heavy smoke
     that clings to the room of small rooms,
     trapped, never escaping,
     staining all it touches,
     only to be wiped away by the maid.

I take a bow,
     but it is shallow,
     a hollow reminder
     of a performance built entirely on falsehood,
     receiving the false calls of those
     only wanting to escape their lives for a little while.

I exit the stage
     the theatre marquis only tells of the character,
     not the man.
     unknown on the street,
     i am nothing.

I am alone.


Whenever I hear the joke mentioned above, I wonder how the clown would describe himself and his situation.  I wonder if anyone would understand the clown, and how he would feel.  This is one take on the possibilities of it.  I hope you enjoyed!

Thanks for reading,

The Fat Kid

Celebrating 5 years of poetry!!!!!

That's right, everybody - this is the 5th Annual Poetry Challenge!!!!!  For those of you who might be new to this, here's how it works:

Each year, for the month of April, I challenge myself to write a new poem.  There are no general rules for the poetry itself - it can be any form - as long as it is published daily...or near daily, at least.  You are welcome to suggest themes, topics, etc, and I may or may not use them.  You are also welcome to play along by writing your own!  I don't ask you to write 30 poems - but even if you wrote one a week or something like that, it could be a lot of fun.  The idea is to flex those creative muscles, have some fun, and explore.  This is a journey, and I invite you to share mine.

So, why April?  It's National Poetry Month, that's why.  Why is that important?  For a lot of reasons, really.  For me, it's important because the art of poetry isn't about a political statement, or even telling a story - it's about connecting each of us, one to the other, through the use of the written word.  It's about sharing experiences, hopes, dreams, sorrows, and tragedies with each other.  After all, we have to share this world with one another, and the next life, too, if you believe in that.  It helps define our experience here on this earth.  And maybe - just maybe - someone will read it, and it may change a life for the better in some way.

This year, the poems are once again going to be all over the place in theme, and possibly style, too.  I have a few ideas, random images that have come to mind throughout the last year that I would like to explore and think about.  I hope you'll join me.  Feedback is encouraged, in all its forms - though I would prefer that if you have strong criticisms for any reason, you at least back them up.  Saying, "I hate this!" but not telling me why doesn't help anyone.  "I hate this, because the topic made me want to vomit," however, is a useful note.

So, with that, let's get on with it, shall we?

Poetry Challenge, v. 5.0, Day 1

The Box

I remember the Idea-
     a simple box, accentuated,
     filled with paper and pen,
     a gift to give away.

I thought of Her-
     and it brought light,
     a touch of pale maple,
     soft flowers in relief.

It was Her-
     hard as iron,
     softened at the edges,
     trees becoming flower petals.

It sat in Honor-
     the deskspace cleared,
     a handmade trophy,
     my accomplishment and hers.

I am humbled by an Idea-
     a simple box, sealed,
     filled with an old woman's last request,
     the gift returned hundred-fold.


In memory of Joan Claire Demer Buckman, 4/30/1920 - 2/26/2014
I love you, Grandma.

Thanks for reading,

The Fat Kid
   

Shhhhh! don't tell anyone....

....but guess what's coming up?  Yup - here, in this little corner of the universe, I will be celebrating the 5th annual Poetry Challenge!!!!!!!!!!!
I know, I know - it's hard to believe that there have been five years of this going on, and just in case there are a couple people out there who don't know what I'm doing, Here's the explanation:

Every day of the month of April, I have to create and share an original poem.  If circumstances mean that I have to miss a day, I have to make that day up.  Very rarely, I will simply share something that I wrote a long time ago, but has never seen the light of day.  I try to NOT make that happen very often.

What's the point of this?  I'm glad you asked.  Writing is a journey - whether it's poetry, journaling, blogging, noveling, or what have you.  The point is that it's a journey for the writer.  I publish it here because it's a small way in which I can invite you, the reader, to journey with me.  But it's more than that.  If you're reading this, you are now cordially invited to not only read along with me, but to write and participate along side me as well.  No, I do not ask that you take up the same challenge (though it WOULD be rather neat, yes?)  But maybe once a week, or at least share a poem or two that you enjoy.  Since most people will likely be connecting through facebook to this blog - post a poem on your page.  Fill yourselves and the world up with good things - like poetry!

I can hear it now:  "But, dude, I just don't "get" poetry."  If you like any words to any song - or at least know any - then you get, and possibly like, poetry.  If you've ever been in awe of something, you understand poetry.  Poetry is about emotion, the senses, and just getting in touch with the world on both the physical and philosophical planes.  It can be serious, silly, disgusting, sappy, enlightening, mysterious, inspirational....the list goes on.  If you've ever had any feelings like this, you not only "get" poetry - you've lived it!

But, not everyone is a writer, and not everyone wants to take up this challenge.  So, I offer you another alternative.  Challenge me.  Give me a category, an emotion - whatever - to write about, and I shall do my darnedest to include it this year's batch of poetry.  Please not, this is NOT a "stump the writer" challenge, where you say, "Write about a smurf, coffee, international phone rates, and the price of gold futures." I mean - I COULD - but that's extraordinarily silly.  I've had requests for lullabyes before, and a few general "moods"...let's keep it to stuff like that, shall we??  Thanks!  I look forward to any requests you may have!!!

Thanks for reading,
The Fat Kid