Miss Pelican's Perch

Looking at my World from a Different Place


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A Haibun for an Endangered Species

Today’s prompt is to write a poem that “talks.”

A Haibun for an Endangered Species

On a bright spring day, before the May gray and the June gloom, I strolled along the boardwalk, dodging skateboarders and runners.  Old men and a few women lounged on plastic tarps under their tents next to shopping baskets filled with all their worldly possessions. Chaos and misery.  I found an escape, a narrow doorway, a real hole-in-the-wall leading to a new world.   A bookstore!   Brick and mortar.  An endangered species. Towering bookcases.  Poetry leading to politics, history to mystery, photo books to cookbooks. A calico cat rolled on the floor begging for a belly rub.  I lifted a book and parted the covers.  My hand caressed a soft page.  I remembered my youth—long warm days of reading in the backyard .  I could download this book. It would be cheaper.  But this species must be saved; there are far too few now.  So I bought the book and went home.

Red Adirondack
English lavender in bloom
Bird! Don’t plop on my book!

Ljg. 2019


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An Earth Day Blessing, Part I

The challenge is “write an abecedarian poem – a poem in which the word choice follows the words/order of the alphabet.”    It is a busy weekend for me.   I do not have time to craft a coherent 26 line poem. So I give you this brief Earth Day blessing—- part one.

A
Blessing on all the
Children of the earth.
Defiant, they stand,
Eager to give birth,
Fearlessly, as a movement
Grows from their
Hands that grip
Iron swords turned into ploughshares.

Ljg 2019


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When Your Flaming Spire Fell

My poem for today could marginally be related to today’s prompt “to write a poem that … presents a scene from an unusual point of view.” But this poem is what is on my heart today so that is what I’m posting.

When Your Flaming Spire Fell

I wept when your flaming spire fell.
I cried when I saw the faithful
fall to their knees and pray.
I felt heavy in my heart
as your graceful face, marked
by weather and age,
stood backlit by that hellish blaze.

Was it the prayers of the people
invoking the Lady who saved you?
Or the skill and resolve of les pompiers?
Gargoyles, some would say,
are charged to keep evil at bay.
Or even the Lord Himself may
have set His hand on you.

Why did I cry–
not being faithful in that same way?
Was it history or beauty
falling as ash into the sanctuary?
Or maybe it is something else too:
in your ruined, crumbling frame,
Maybe I see me in you?

Ljg © 2019


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The Humble Egg



Today we’re asked “to write a poem that uses the form of a list to defamiliarize the mundane.”

The Humble Egg

Shell:
White, brown, pale green, blue,
Cuticula, chalaza
Make sure they’re farm-fresh new
Viscous albumen:
Niacin, magnesium
Yolk:
calcium, fat, protein, potassium
Kitchen salvation for mothers and men
Scrambled, over easy,
Sunnyside up
Poached and served
in blue willow cups.
Frittatas, omlettes
Atop the ramen
Ordinary, extraordinary
Oh humble egg.

Ljg 2019


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I’m Not Fine

Today’s prompt is to write a dramatic monologue. I love these because I really don’t have to think about them too much: just a stream-of-consciousness thing rolling of my tongue with a natural cadence taking over. So here it is:

I’m Not Fine

How am I? Oh!
You really want to know?
Convention says I should answer “Fine”
but I draw the line.  I’m
Lousy, shitty, crappy–
I can think of a few more adjectives,
that if I say enough will turn into
invectives against the whole #$&%$@# thing.

I’m supposed to write
a dramatic monologue,
fancy-ass words just to say
I’m gonna spew all over you.
This poem is gonna have its way
‘cuz I don’t have time to make it rhyme
or worry about meter and iamb.
It’s just gotta be what’s inside me.

I’m not fine.
I’m not fine.
Aren’t you glad you know?

 

ljg 2019

Image from Morguefile and manipulated by me.


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Remember

Today we are “to write a poem about something mysterious and spooky.

Remember

Remember that afternoon at Casa Mirasol
after a long day of surfing at Estero?
We ate carnitas and debated the merits of a good fish taco.
We chilled and sipped cold Mexican Cokes and Jarritos.

Remember how we came to the house
after the sun had long set.
We chatted with the neighbors.
We stood in the yard while you fished for the keys.

Remember how I pointed up to the sky and said
“What IS that?”  You dropped your keys.
Remember how they were different colors?
Pulsing blues, glowing pinks, oranges, white.

Remember how we watched them
bobbing, turning, then hovering.
Remember you whispered
“Planes can’t do that.”

Remember how you ran inside?
Remember how you left me alone?
Remember how I panicked?
Remember…

For some reason I can’t remember what happened next.

 

Ljg 2019.  Image from Morguefile (This is remarkably similar to what we saw).


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On My Desk

I was able to find a few minutes to dash off the piece about “a dull thing that you own, and why (and how) you love it.”

On My Desk

Charcoal gray,
a square
In shape and demeanor.

One eye staring,
Dead,
unblinking.

But with one shake
Its crystalline soul
sparks awake

and draws me in.
We soar into
a boundless totality.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ljg 2019.  Image courtesy of Morguefile