Perhaps the first step
to gaining our heart’s desire
is just letting go
of the desire in our hearts.
#363
Winter Solace
Winter’s getting really bad
when your houseplants die of SADs
and you leave on all your lights
to deny the longest nights.
But soon there’ll be a little ray
of hope to brighten up our day
cause once the longest night is done
we’ll start to see more of the sun.
#362
It’s the End of the World Again
Calendars are tricky things
they habitually pull the wings
off our days and stuff them in
a nasty little cage.
Cages stacked four or five high
all cramped and crowded, side by side
assigned a number and divided
into different pages.
We cross them out and tick them off,
place cryptic notes within the blocks,
And watch them like slow moving clocks
where minutes move like hours
Admiring their reliability
we cede to them responsibility
to direct our brave futility
with their pedantic powers.
But calendars are simple drones
They have no power of their own
Even if they’re carved in stone
By enterprising Mayans.
So make your plans and don’t loose sleep
Just count, and do not join, the sheep
time is precious, talk is cheap,
tomorrow will be fine.
#361
Now What? – Not a Poem…
Now What?
As of Dec 24th I will have hit the elusive 366th poem in 366 days! Something to be proud of numerically at least. But I hope that within that deluge of literary litter there may lurk enough “good” poems to equal a reasonable book of poetry. I won’t be writing a poem on Christmas morning – not on purpose anyway – and I’ll probably take a little down time after that (possibly a day or two).
What then?
Editing. May not sound really exciting, but I’m going to share my experiences with the editing process. (You know I’ll post new poems too – I’m too compulsive to completely let go of the writing process while I’m editing). My objective in writing a poem a day for a year was to short circuit the inner critic and I think, on the whole, I’ve accomplished that. I’ve managed to crank something out EVERY day even if it wasn’t exceptionally inspired. Those of you who have been subjected to haiku written five minutes before I had to leave for work will attest to my tenacity and willingness to share my mediocrity as well as my strokes of (clears throat and blushes modestly) genius. Well the objective now is to accept and, dare I say it, enjoy the process of editing. I believe that editing can be as creative and rewarding a process as writing and I’m going to explore it (but I sure hope it doesn’t take a whole year!).
And Then What?
From there I’ll be exploring options for publishing. Amazingly, there are no publishing houses beating on my door insisting on publishing my humble book of poetry. Ah well, I guess I’ll just have to do it myself. And there’s another journey. I imagine that I’ll be writing about the research I’ll end up doing to get the book printed and distributed. A subject that could be quite dry unless I keep my rather odd sense of humour about it all – which I certainly intend to do.
So here we go, the final week of the “Poem a Day for a Year” series of self inflicted foolishness.
I will write you more poems.
I promise.
And songs too and maybe even paint you some pictures.
Love to you all
Linda
What Makes Christmas
I remember contentment on Christmas day,
a calm in the midst of life’s storm.
And I’ve heard people say that it’s harder to find
that peaceful place anymore.
And I think that it’s time we stopped looking so hard
for the magic that lives in us all
and it’s not in the eggnog or gifts ‘neath the tree
or the ivy boughs decking the hall.
I think that it’s time we stopped trying so hard
to orchestrate Christmas each year
instead of listening to the single notes
the contented people hear.
Cause it’s not what we bring to Christmas
from anywhere outside
it’s what we bring of ourselves to the ones we love
that makes it Christmas time.
#360
Wheedlers
Is there anything needier than a simpering wheedler?
Who just took their best smile off of the shelf
then brushed off and pasted it onto their face,
No thoughts in their heads except of themselves.
There are all kinds of losers but the saddest are users
who think everyone is just waiting their chance
to be called on for favours like personal slaves
they call the tune and expect us to dance.
But eventually those who always suppose
that our life’s work is only to make their life easy
will find that their ‘friends’ have discovered the ends
of their ropes and finally caught on to their wheeze.
Once bitten, twice shy, and oh, my oh my,
be prepared to see doors close on that phoney smile
true friends only meet on two way streets,
the user moves on, never understands why.
#359
Wrinkled
Life is a bit like a shirt in a dryer.
All wet behind the ears when we start out,
we tumble around aimlessly, get all
hot under the collar, and then
end up cooling down and wrinkling.
Life is a bit like fruit in a fridge.
All bursting with freshness when we start out,
we absorb too much of what surrounds us,
get pushed back one too many times, and then
end up turning grey and wrinkling.
Life is a lot like me and you in the time machine.
All adventure bound and stepping on butterflies,
Hot tumbles, absorbing and bursting, pushing back and then
Ending up cool, grey, wrinkled
and loved.
#358
My Friends Are Flakes
My friends are shiny flakes
at the bottom of the pan
as I swirl through the mud
of life’s alluvial fan.
#357
Carol of the Department Stores
Christmas is coming
merchants getting fat
please put your money
in the department store’s hat.
If you haven’t any money
a credit card will do
if you haven’t got a credit card
Well who needs you?
#356
Hot Flash!
In some latitudes she’s violent,
In some she is benign,
In most, her disposition
is dependent on the time
of year it is, but usually
there’s a possibility
of predicting her behaviour
With some chance of accuracy.
And then there is the Peace region,
where she has the power
to jump from minus twenty
to zero in an hour.
Bet on Peace region temperatures
if you want to lose your cash
Cause this is where Ma Nature comes
When she’s having a hot flash.
#355
Linda Studley 