Category: Poetry

Rhymed and unrhymed, form or free, this is where the poetry lives.

Numbers Make Me Number

lindastudleyLeave a comment

Numbers bother me.
Simple ones not so much but
ones that hide their true identity behind letters,
x and y and all that, they
bother me.
Who do these shifty figures with secret
identities they think they are, super heroes,
carrying their power on their shoulders, numbers
to the power of other numbers.
And why must we always solve for x?
I think it’s time x learned to be a little less cryptic.

Now the price of tea I understand and I
mentally add up my grocery bill so I’m not dangerously
startled at the checkout counter, but
algebra confounds me
It sounds like a terrorist sect
doesn’t it? Al Jibra…

I love letters.
I love their clean, intelligent ability
to explain something with perfect clarity.
I love their infinite flexibility,
their magical ability to assemble into words, at once
familiar, yet with nuance and inference wide open
to interpretation.

I guess I’ve always thought of numbers as the poor
cousins of letters, useful, but not very bright.

 

#325

My Brain – Part VI

lindastudley2 Comments

Why isn’t the word palindrome spelled
the same backwards as it is forwards?
Why isn’t the word ‘lisp’ spelled ‘lithp’?
If synonym means same
and antonym means opposite
are syns the opposite of ants?
Do the ants know about this?
Or is it ‘sins’ and ‘aunts’?
As if no aunt ever had less than virtuous intentions.
Oh dear, the squirrels are loose in my brain again
and they’ve been drinking coffee and reading
grammar textbooks.
They are looking up the definition of assonance
and giggling.

 

#324

He Wore a Poppy

lindastudley6 Comments

He never talked about the war.
He had scars
but some didn’t show on the outside.
He wore a poppy
but never went to the Legion.
He had medals that he was proud of
but he never displayed them.
I remember taking them to Show and Tell in grade one.
He never talked about the war.
But even as a child I knew
it followed him like a shadow
so he faced the light of love
and family and community and
kept the shadow behind him.
We put a poppy on his coffin.

 

#323

Time to Do What Should Be Done

lindastudley4 Comments

There are more stores where you can find
finished products on  the shelf
than ones where you can buy
stuff to make those things yourself.

The simple things, the canning rings
the denim by the bolt
the basic stuff’s replaced by fluff
I’d like to revolt

but apparently it’s convenient
to buy things ready made
so we can spend more time
sitting in the shade

of our television screen
that often pauses to dispense
directions to where we can go
to buy more convenience.

Enough convenience already!
I think it’s time to take
back our right to take our time
over things we want to make. 

And begin to see the difference
between convenience and traps
that make us buy things several times
because they’re built of crap.

That makes us eat what’s easy
instead of what is good,
instead of understanding what
is in and on our food.

Fast to slow, junk to gem
and maybe we won’t need
the shrinks and gyms and supplements
that seem to sprout like weeds

To take advantage of the fools
that we’ve all become
because we just can’t take the time
to do the things that should be done.

Convenience be damned, it’s time to do
the things that should be done.

 

#322

Goals

lindastudleyLeave a comment

A goal is a special place
plotted on a personal map
and it probably isn’t wise
to just leave it to an app

to plot a course to guide you
to non-physical destinations
because personal topography
is subject to fluctuation

and GPS isn’t always
on top of all the ruts
that litter our personal pathways
the if, and whys and buts.

And so it seems, as always,
that the only real chance
of reaching goals is flying by
the seat of one’s own pants.

#320

Hapless and Gruntled

lindastudley7 Comments

If appear is the opposite of disappear
then it only makes good sense
that gruntle is the opposite of disgruntle
and gruntling the method whence

one would smooth the feathers
of someone’s disgruntlement.
We may be on to something here,
so for the sake of argument

let’s look at words that start with non
and mean the opposite of their root,
like nonviolent and violent,
should all words follow suit?

It may seem cut and dried but if
we continue in this vein,
disclosure’s the opposite of closure
and nondisclosure’s the opposite again.

And if a misstep is a failed step
it might seem apropos
that a mischief is a failed chief
(what he failed in I don’t know).

And if being a malcontent
Is being content’s opposite
then malignant’s the opposite of ignant,
therefore, ergo, to wit.

I love the English language but
my ignant’s nearly spent
and nondisclosing into
malmisnondisgruntlement.

#317

Friends Who Sing

lindastudleyLeave a comment

There are notes inside of notes
when two voices blend.
The joyful noise that happens
when vocalists are friends.

The sharing goes beyond the sound
of music, notes, or words.
It’s something that the audience
may have never heard.

Goals, dreams, and visions,
these all become a part
when the voices blending
are singing from their hearts.

#316

Last night I sang backup vocals for my good friend Barb Munro (www.barbmunro.com) at her CD release concert. Check out her website – you can hear some clips of her music over there. (I know, small picture! I’m the smudge to the left of the smudge in the middle with the guitar, lol). Harmonizing is fun but harmonizing with a friend is fun to the tenth power)

Photo by Janina Carlstad