WELCOME TO 30 POEMS IN 30 DAYS
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I’m jumping in to support the Center for New Americans and jump-starting my creative juices with the project. This fundraiser supports free English classes for immigrants. Language is a primary means of connecting with one another. Please support increasing connection and belonging with your pledge! Thank you so much to those who have donated!
Daily poems are a bit like babies - they may start small and weak but can sparkle with magic and perhaps, eventually, impact the world. Support these upcoming Baby Poems to support a World of Welcome with CNA.
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30 Poems in 30 days (plus a few) - November 2024
November 2
tbw
November 1
Mattie & Claire
My sister hates me
because I never stop talking,
or so she says.
Because I never complete a single thought,
she claims.
But I do! I just have lots of thoughts
and the world is complicated
so my words expand.
My sister hates me
because I'm skinny;
she seems to admire that and loathe me
in the same breath.
But I'd give anything for hips,
that hourglass of femininity.
I eat chips and cakes,
maybe not a whole cake
but multiple slices
at one sitting.
And still, at 62, I have the hips of a 13-year-old boy.
My sister hates me
because she's found Jesus
and I've walked away.
I believe Jesus is everywhere
but she thinks he only lives on the cross.
And I hate my sister
though I try so hard not to,
because she has two kidneys that are a perfect match
for my husband.
Yet she clings to both
without remorse.
And he withers a little more
each day
as his body fails.
And all the chips and cake in the world
will give me neither
hips
nor a kidney
I might give to my husband.
November 1
The days
stretch and turn
in a drumbeat
of terror
Or is that the nights?
Unknown
Unsure
Weeping
Sweeping
Circling the drain.
Dawn is promised
around the next corner.
The dark
is a maze.
The light
a labyrinth.
The center
a refuge.
Trust
Step
Again
And again
You are safe
If you trust
and
Continue
October 31
Fatigue
clawing like hands
from a grave
Lids
scratchy and sulky
A longing to sink
back into the earth
deeply
with finality
and satisfaction
Instead
dry leaves skitter
along the surface
skipping
from worn stone
to gnarled roots
and back again.
October 30
The mind fades
The heart expands
Is it possible
to love too much?
Do we need the mind
to rein in
the heart?
Perhaps
Age
allows the heart
to reign over
the mind,
if we let it.
October 29
Head Start
Can I
jump the gun
lift my heals,
my arms
arced high above my head
fingers steepled
Can I
slice through
the waters
ahead of my peers
beyond the reach
of those determined
to pull me under
Can I
find my allies
in no one else
knows
it's a relay?