{haiku: and so it goes – to 40}

And, WHOOSH, thus ends April. I am sneezing and clearing off my desk to be hauled away to a new owner, and will relocate to a kitchen table here, then there, and then to a whole new house, eventually.

And yet, despite the chaotic nature of my days, I know the next time Liz – aka That Demented Shilling Pied Piper Poet – chivvies us Poetry Princesses into writing with her to celebrate National Poetry Month, I know I’ll be there. I can’t not be there, apparently. And, this just reminds me that I ought to attempt poetry much, much more often. I love the form – I love the struggle – and it is a struggle, though haiku is merely a shorter struggle. I am tentatively feeling my way toward the idea that I really enjoy writing poetry. And so. Today’s the last day of the month, and I realized something kind of funny. First, I wasn’t going to do this every day. And then, I decided to “catch up” with the days I missed, and number them nicely like Sara’s done on her blog.

Thirty-four poems later…

While it’s not exactly true that Humanities majors can’t count, I can’t help but laugh at my over-exuberance to write a poem a day for a month with thirty-one days therein. This month, I wrote haiku in emails, in cards to friends, in bits and pieces that didn’t even get posted … but I published thirty-four poems. Today is really gravy. But, what the heck – in for a penny, in for thirty-five pence. Or, you know, maybe a few more.

Written to a friend who is also changing jobs and moving – and trying to weigh the decisions, as we are:

nor all your Piety nor Wit

skywrite an answer,
moving finger!! Having writ,

how hard can it be?

just make a decision

O, strobe of lightning
manifest my destiny:
there: decision made.

Composed whilst packing away what’s left of my books after ten boxes and three suitcases full of donations. Yes. I have a book problem. No, I will not see someone for it…

dusty, but loved

paperback writer:
in every box wedge thick tomes
the tale of a life

On building a flat-packed box in the living room and finding it is too wide/large to go through the doorway:

O rlly?

And then, there are times
When I doubt our common sense:
Man tops the food chain?

And finally today’s offering:

head-turner

Occasionally
even the Muse shows off
my keyboard spills words

Temporary Office

Thanks for dropping by – it’s been an amazing month of poetry, and hopefully I’ll remember how I’ve entertained myself, and keep writing. Hope you do, too.

Now, back to the packing mess!