Days, a muse, some cobwebs, and results: NPMC 2015 15-18

This weekend we've been putting a lot of effort into working in our yard, and as a result I haven't been inside or sitting still much, so the four poems below were first written on a notebook in bed and then retyped here.

The first poem deals more with the passing of time and  how it differs on days when we have major events or many small events. Something in those events or the line up, always seems to make the day stretch longer than itself, whereas a whole week spent doing the same thing as everyday can fly by unnoticed, even if the individual hours drag.

The second (poem 16) is about the people who sometimes inspire me to write poems. They never know of course. Well, mostly they don't know.

Speaking of being inspired by other people, poem 17 is about my mother-in-law helping me clean for a big party. This happened last month, or gosh, March so a month and a half ago, but seeing the cobwebs in my bedroom reminded me of the incident, and it actually turned out to be making an interesting statement on how sometimes the things we do for others, even if nice and generous, may not be fully for them.

Poem 18, I wrote tonight, on the verge of beginning my second weight loss journey. It's not about the weight, but about the exercise and the issue I have with running in place, to start. But this poem isn't as negative as it sounds.

I still haven't figured out if telling you what inspired the poems first is better or worse than just listing the poems themselves, but since these are all part of the challenge, I feel a little obligated to share a part of the experience and to justify in a way that every day offers us something poetic that we may not have noticed if we didn't stop to think about it.

Having said, don't be surprised if there is a poem about digging ditches or trenches coming soon. Actual ones, not metaphorical. I've been doing a lot of that lately.

NPMC15 Poem 15:

"The Longest Days"

Some days
last a whole week
the morning that began them
a distant memory

You want to say
"Remember when. . ."
but realize
it was only earlier
that day

They can be good
or great
They can be devastating
or simply
busy

but they are filled
with personal
adventure

and are evidence
of getting caught up
in our own stories

How frightful
How wonderful
how long our lives are
whenever we stop time
and start living



NPMC15 Poem 16:

"Anonymous Muse"

When you left today
did you know
you would be
someone's muse?

That they would write words
about you
then form them into lines
and ideas?

Whole stories even
Whole feelings

No, you mustn't.
You were just being you
and if you hadn't been
then they needn't
have noticed
at all


NPMC15 Poem 17:

" Me Helping You"

"Look at all these cobwebs!"
she said

And I thought
It's odd the details
others collect

I hadn't even noticed
the dusty, long strands
barely dancing
across my ceiling edges

I was too occupied
with the dirt beneath my feet
and the clutter in the corner

Cobwebs lived no where in my mind
Yet she took up the vacuum and broom
and sucked them out of existence 


And before any other task was done
she sighed that sigh a heavy relief
her face cleared and her shoulders eased

"I took care of those cobwebs
for you,"
she said

"Oh," I said
still scrubbing
"For me?
You shouldn't have."


NPMC15 Poem 18:

"Real Results"

Running in place
 and counting to ten
stretching and reaching
again and again and again

Monotonous
Boring
Kill me now
Please

The seconds barely tick
the sweat barely showers

Stop.

Give me something useful and fun
something with a result
I can see when I'm done

Look at this cliff
that I climbed
this grass that
I mowed

See this destination
I got here all alone
And this large flower box
I built at my home

This race that I ran
even if it was only
verses my son

These bushes
I planted them
These boxes
I moved

They're more than
minutes and hours
Bigger than calories
and last longer than miles






Comments