Poetry Challenge v. 5.0, days 20 and 21

Oh wow - another two poems today!  Well, here it goes - and the week of having to write "hopeful" poems is done, at least.  I suppose, if I wanted to keep with the theme, this week's stuff should be more "victory-focused," but I think I'll just sort of see where the wind takes me instead.  A) it's much more fun, as most of the time, I have no idea where a poem is going until I'm halfway through it, and B) you have no idea where I'm going at all, so it's an adventure for both of us!!  YAY, poetry adventures!

Inward

Stop.
Peel back layers,
pulling sheets of self away
looking at the freshly exposed soft underbelly
that no one gets to see except when allowed,
and even then, it is a rarity
that I should allow it,
let you see
me.


On the Porch

Nothing is as nice,
as sitting on the front porch,
lighting a pipe, and talking over the day
with the one you love,
just there to enjoy hearing
about the other's day,
comparing notes and making plans for the future.


Thanks for reading,

The Fat Kid

Poetry Challenge v. 5.0, Days 18 and 19

Ummm...SO all that hope and stuff about last week being Easter?  Well, that sorta makes it a little difficult to keep up with poetry contests!  No, seriously, it was a long weekend of prepping to host Easter Dinner, and that made life quite a bit hectic.  So hectic, in fact, that I took three days off writing, and have today to make up, too!!!  That's 4 days of poems, if you're keeping score at home.  I think I'll try and spread it out over two posts today!!  I think I still have a couple hopeful poems left to write.....

The Sailor

I stood along the shores of the sea,
with sadness my companion,
until at last a boat with no owner came ashore,
there was within it one seat only,
no more could go, no less required.
And I held onto my sadness,
we tried to fit, but to no avail,
until at last, we knew it was time to part,
and I sent my sadness sailing off,
towards another shore,
for I no longer need his companionship.


Friday

It often dawns brightly,
warm air on a sunny day,
the temperatures running hot,
until the afternoon.

The clock tones the hour - three rings,
and life becomes still for a moment,
as though the entire world waits with baited breath
just to make certain it will keep spinning while the sun disappears.

Thereafter, the bright sky returns,
and real or imagined,
for me, the world stopped anyway,
and from that stop,
issues forth a renewed faith,
And it is good.

Thanks for reading,

The Fat Kid

Poetry Challenge, v. 5.0, Days 16 and 17

After tonight's group ride - which ended up with some rather significant climbs, cobblestones, cinder paths, paves paths, playing in traffic, and dropping a couple riders (in short, just about everything you could want) - I turned on the radio as I left to my favorite radio station - the local public radio station that only plays classical music - to hear a tribute to Jewish music, as it's the feast of Passover.  It was really nice to hear something a little different than the normal things one hears.  I found it to be at once sad and hopeful, hence it's mention here.  It also inspired the first poem today.

Solo

A single note, full of want,
waivers simply in the air,
forlorn and haunting as the melody grows,
a song of loss and woe,
remembering loved ones
from long ago,
nameless faces across the generations,
that inspired a people's faith,
broke a king's will,
and breathed freedom.


Climb

The climb looks daunting and deadly,
 the turn in the middle faces the wrong way,
 it will be steeper, but that is the route.
It begins, and the rhythm starts,
turn the crank, drop the gear,
raise the cadence,
drop again,
out of the saddle and back in it.
Accelerate.
Climb.
Breathe.
Screw the turn.  Turn the screw.
Create the rhythm again,
ever climbing up,
not giving in.
Freedom is at the top.
And I will win it.


Thanks for reading,

The Fat Kid

Poetry Challenge, V. 5.0, Day 15

It's April 15th, do you know where your tax return is?  Well, I certainly hope you do - because those things tend to be a little important.  And, the promise of returned money usually makes everyone just a little happier - since this week is about hope, what gives folks hope like a tax refund?  I have no idea how I'm going to spend mine yet, but I'm sure that something will demand it!  But hey, let's get on to some verse, shall we?

Escape

Winter's last stand,
  a cold and snowy leftover,
  not yet ready to let go,
  even though I'm ready to leave it far behind.

I'll head to the south,
  the land of the sunshine,
  and sip cool drinks as the surf crashes
  and wipes away the castle of sand.

Away from the wrath of Winter's last gasp,
  embracing the warmth of Apollo's
  chariot as he races across the sky.


Not my best outing, I think, but they can't all be the best ever.

Thanks for Reading,

The Fat Kid

Poetry Challenge v. 5.0, days 13 and 14

It's Holy Week - for those of you playing along at home, that means the week before Easter - this year, that means ALL of Christendom.  Sometimes, the Orthodox and Byzantine rites celebrate easter at a slightly different time than Catholic and and other Christian denominations, but this year, everyone who calls themselves Christian is celebrating together.  For those who do not practice this faith, it means that stores will be awesomely empty for you this coming Sunday, while we're all feasting and enjoying family.

Why is this important to the Poetry Challenge??  Well, frankly, if poetry isn't on some level a spiritual experience - whether a secular or "religious" spirit - then it means virtually nothing at all.  Gabriel Faure - French composer - was quoted as saying, "To me, (art, and particularly) music exists to elevate us as far as possible above everyday life."  It makes a lot of sense, to me, to look at poetry in much the same way.  It elevates us from the often more mundane parts of life, and reminds us that in all things, we can find beauty and hope.  We just have to open ourselves to look for it.  That is what Holy Week is for Christians - the promise of hope.  That's why it's important to the Poetry Challenge.  And that's why this week's theme is all about hope.  I...ummm...hope...you enjoy it!!

On another note - the "experts" (whatever that means in terms of poetry) say that you're not supposed to write about topics like this.  Hope, Love, and all other HUGE concepts should never be written about, according to them.  Instead, you should try and show these concepts through smaller things, moments, anecdotes, etc - because they are a) more easily relatable and b) you won't sound like a wool-headed ninny.  They have a point, of course, and it's mainly that they're tired of reading the Romantic Poets and flowery language that's really just a lot of "fluff."  Well, screw them.  If poetry is supposed to bend the rules, then that's what I'm a-gonna do!!

Dream

I dreamed I was small,
  too small to be noticed, I thought,
  as the giants fought around me,
  over me,
  threatening and ominous,
  a fate I could not escape.

The wall stretched into a corridor,
   black walls and floor, oultined in white,
   the door at the end, my only refuge.

I ran, and through the door I went,
  leaving the giants in their epic tussle,
  not knowing the outcome.

I enter a chamber,
  white walls and a blue elevator,
  I push the button - the doors open,

There She is,
  radiant light from around her
  shines upon my face and warms me,
  comforts me and brings me Home,
  Her look of mercy and love remind me
  there are no dark times.



And, because I didn't write a poem for yesterday, here's your two-fer!!! 

72 Degrees

The day begins cold,
the sun barely visible above the grey clouds,
poking through occasionally,
between the bouts of gentle spring rain.

The clouds thin,
pale yellow diffused between the puffs of water,
the pavement begins to dry,
yielding the promise of an evening on the porch,
a cigar and whiskey in hand,
a fine spring day


Thanks for reading,
The Fat Kid

Poetry Challenge,v. 5.0, days 11 and 12

Oops - I missed a day yesterday, but on this one, I actually have the excuse of computer issues.  Those appear to be solved now - well, at least for the time being, so it's time we get to some poems, yes?  I thought you might think so!!  I mean, really, what more think could we ask for than to have a couple of fresh poems, right?  Ok, ok, it's not like I'm Walt Whitman or anything, but where else can you go to experience this?  Probably a lot of places, really.  There are a lot of writers and poets out there, struggling artists of their craft - but you KNOW me, and maybe, just maybe, these little musings of mine will be worth something.  A guy can dream!!!


Morning

The cold caress of spring air
  envelopes me,
  holds me fast
  as the fog rolls in
  through the valley of naked trees.

Wandering, lost,
  unable to see the path,
  until the Sun
  reveals the hidden world,
  and the leaves clothe the branches.

I bask in the light,
  the warmth, my baptism,
  a new life awakens in me,
  and I can find the way home.


Morning Sounds

Sweet sounds,
     waking to the sound of birds
     chirping in the pre-dawn hours,
     the drip of the coffee-maker,
     the sound of fresh eggs frying on the stove.
I'm hungry, and it's time to make breakfast.

One serious, one.....definitely not so much!!  Well, we can't be too serious all the time, now, can we??

Thanks for reading,

The Fat Kid

Petry Challenge, v. 5.0, Day 10

Hey, cool - it's 1/3 the way through this year's challenge, and we're still going stronger than the average bear!  Now, give me a pic-a-nic basket, Mr. Ranger, Sir, and I'll be on my way!  If you don't get that reference, and you are over the age of 15, you need to go back and spend some time with your Hanna-Barbara animated television.  If you did get the reference, then congratulations, you have been paying attention!  You win the Quewpie doll.  Oh, and you win more poetry!!!  See?  You're a winner!

Salutation

Breathe.
relax the body, breathe deeper.
hands apart, legs out behind,
Breathe.
eyes closed,
arch the back,
Breathe.
recline the head,
let it go,
Breathe.
empty the well inside,
let it drain out through your toes and hands,
Breath in.
Breathe out.
In the emptiness, find your soul.
And say, "hello."


Thanks for reading,

The Fat Kid