April 13 Poem - The Palette

write a poem that incorporates a hobby

The Palette

Alizarin Crimson - a blush
Burnt umber lush garden earth
ochre fields of wheat
sienna in her sweet hair,
grey sky of mourning or
ultramarine in a starless night
Phthalo green, earth-marble sheen
cerulian blue sky-bright, the cadnimum sun,
the cadnium brothers are clean but loud
need to be heard, undiluted orange,
red and yellow burley fellows, raging
raging against this stretched white expanse..
Titanium laughs.
Ivory Black revels in its contradiction....

--Mistryel Walker

April 12 Poem - No Sale

write a poem that starts "so we decided to.."

No sale

So we decided to sell
and move to Kentucky
but the bridge washed out

Later, already twister tangled
forest fired, weary with doubt

all our belonings now
in one red barrow on the
debris laden- once-was-a-lawn

Uncle Hank from Mass arrived
in a Nissan truck, and picked us up
Now we are New England gone

-- Mistryel Walker

April 11 Poem - This Plain White Bowl

Write a poem about an object. Of course it's not really about the bowl.

This Plain White bowl

not porcelain, but cradled in grateful hands,
a perfect round of rice or rue or jello
carrot soup saucer, oatmeal coffer
ice cream chalice, strawberry short bake
the dark green leaves of lettuce and red
peppering take brief rest herein
before they become one with me,
I range plain as this round white bowl,
open to the menu's possibility.

-- Mistryel Walker

Anne Marie Marra's Colonoscopy Poem

the late Anne Marie Marra performing her funny poem "Colonoscopy"

April 10 Poem - Trash Day

write a poem for Fridays

On Trash day

a murder of crows collects
on clean white streert-side bags.
With scalpel snouts they spear each sack
a toss, a rip, a crow head
dips into the pack, retrieving
items curious and aromatic:
pizza crust, jagged moon
of strawberry, snazzy tin foil fresh
from the oven with a slick of grease.
Dinner conversation turns to scorn,
reaches hysteria as I open the screen
to scream and slam.

-- Mistryel Walker

April 9 Poem - Saga on the edge of the lawn

Prompt - write a poem on a memory

Saga on the edge of the lawn

Hedges of fern,
tribes of Indian pipes,
red "head-ache" flowers,
various shades of moss, and tiny violets
robins who stretch a worm to breaking
just before breakfast. Afterwards
someone sings.

-- Mistryel Walker

Poem-A-Day Writer's Digest Challenge

AWK - I am behind **** a note -- I did actually finish the poems are all posted on Facebook.***
- here are my first four days of the Poem a Day writer;s digest challenge (they supply a writing prompt - you supply a poem )

April 1 poem
the prompt was "origins"

Origin

Out of the muck we come
over-adrenalized and peevish
Muscled, toothed, furious to survive

Out of night, into the cave,
firelight dancing, igniting imaginings
of more-than-muck, and we

Out of our minds, with fire-born charcoal,
into the cavern carve a vast sprawling hunt
that we have made: gazelle, mammoth, man

men, together, ready for more than muck.

=============================

April 2 poem
the prompt was "outsiders"

Outsiders now,

They float feather light,
walk the teetering shuffle in slippers
except when they are falling and landing hard
on heads or breaking hips or clavicles on the tile
They peer out of their years of forgetting,
furrowed, pale, a little grey, waiting
out the silence of full lives or empty lives.
Hovering near phone,
imagining a knock at the door
falling asleep in the chair

=======================

April 3 poem
the prompt was "the problem with..._________"

Canine Compromise

The problem with dogs is underemployment.
Eons of DNA for running the tireless patrol,
cooperative hunting for fun and profit,
the upper-handed snarl, or deep-den digging
dirt-flying intensity or gnawing elk femurs,
or marking or sniffing out the latest odorous map.

All this reduced to a 20-minute walk, and a half-
hour yard run, two antique humans, one with
no sense of humor, a chair under the window, and
a horrid selfish cat who bits dog toes, ears, lips
anything to secure the sun-spot on the rug.
Ah well, waiting for the mailman will have to do

==================
April 4 Poem
the prompt was to pick and animal....

oh please, a little armor

Armadillo of my envy
waddles on with leathery grace
and when alarmed, curls to himself
in fetal retreat. Turtle, my other idol
moves at a such slow deliberate pace
and when the world is too engaging
withdraws his head and hides his face.