PAD Day 4: And Now for Something Completely Demented...

I needed today's prompt. It was silly, demented fun. The dual prompts from Poetic Asides and NaPoWriMo: (1) Write a "wish" poem, and (2) write a poem based on an image from a dream. The latter blog offers several Twitter accounts that generate some strange and surreal dream-like images than could be used as poetic inspiration, so since I rarely remember my dreams anymore, I used them as my source rather than my own brain. I especially got into "Magic Realism Bot", which generates something whimsically weird every four hours, like "An ostrich whispers to an office manager: 'I feel so alone'," or "In Colorado there is a lime tree which likes to drink margaritas." I read a bunch of these to get into the spirit of it, but I didn't steal any of the images for my poem - they are entirely my own. As I said, it was silly fun, and I needed that badly.y.

Ode to Magic Realism Bot

[after a thing on Twitter]

O Bot, I wish I could make my own dreams like you.

I wish I could play pinochle with cheddar cheese.

I wish that Peruvians could drink iced banana wine.

I wish for a private jet stuffed with pancakes.

I wish that dreams could unspool like vacuum cleaner cords,

and slide on linoleum until their hands were blue.

O Bot, give me dreams of major league toads in pinstripes,

or of Michael Stipe as a refrigerator.

Let me dream of falling from a seventeen-story toilet,

checking my cellphone shaped like a unicorn

before I land. Help me see Atlantis through a Coke bottle,

and play "Melancholy Baby" on a tube of toothpaste.

I wish for the ghost of Salvador Dali to pull off his mustache,

for hula hoops to grow from trees, for eight more days

of strawberry yogurt rain, for my bed to turn upside down

and shake me out before I disappear into the mattress.

O Bot, make this all happen every four hours,

and repeat as necessary.

PAD Day 3: Sorry to Bring Down the Room, but...

... it's taking a while to blow through these feelings of anxiety and depression over our current situation, so my poem today is reflective of that. I promise I'll eventually produce something more amusing or uplifting. Today's prompts from Poetic Asides and NaPoWri Mo are (1) Write a poem titled "Follow _____", and (2) Make a list of ten words using any source, random or otherwise, then use a site called Rhymezone to get a few rhyming or near-rhyming words for each one, then use that word bank to write a poem. (You don't have to use every word in the bank.) I went to my "go-to" site for the random words (The Sunday Whirl) and I got these: maze, trapped, land, hand, stash, chatter, armed, wreck, saw, crawl, back, last. i used them all, with some other words suggested by Rhymezone, to come up with this:

Follow the Maze

Trapped in a shut-down land

where one hand washes the other -

in the basement, a toilet-paper stash.

TV chatter that after a while

doesn't even matter,

armed to the teeth with numbers, numbers -

and an amazingly bureaucratic wreck

that can't get out of a corn maze

with a chain saw, everything slowed

to a crawl. People need breathing room

and machines, and their jobs back,

and cash back, and no more fear

of inhaling someone else's bad air.

But the last buck just got passed back

to the one who had it first,

and someone who squirmed past me

may have just passed me their germ.

PAD Day 2: A Safe Space

Today's prompts from Poetic Asides and NaPoWriMo: (1) write a "space" poem, and (2) "write a poem about a specific place —  a particular house or store or school or office. Try to incorporate concrete details, like street names, distances ('three and a half blocks from the post office'), the types of trees or flowers, the color of the shirts on the people you remember there."
These two prompts meshed pretty well today, and the obvious response would have to be reflective of the sheltered times we are going through right now. This is about one of the safer places I feel these days, other than home.

Civic

A round rubber foundation that moves

with a simple key turn, a shift of a lever

and a pump on a pedal.

My new safe space. Not living in it,

but in a sense, living through it.

No crowds in here, few germs (I pray)

and a decent sound system.

The dark gray dashboard is fuzzy

with a film of dust, and random papers

litter the floor, but it's my mess.

I'm not too far from anything here -

my favorite takeout is 1.6 miles

down the road. They open their window,

and I open mine, the bagged transfer

of victuals - minimum contact.

A turbaned guy pumps my gas

(Jersey is still full-service),

and we pass my card back and forth.

If I have to exit this steel-glass bubble,

I don my gloves and mask,

stay a person-length away from anyone

avoid chit-chat, get my necessities,

and walk out into an invisible haze

of particles that look like tiny golf balls

studded with tees.

Many, but fewer, of us are moving like this,

self-isolation on the highway, keeping

a safe distance, just as they always told us

in Driver's Ed, so we don't crash

into one another and die.

Here We Go Again!

Well, here we are, another April, and another Poem-a-Day Challenge. As usual, I will be taking my cues from at least two source, usually simultaneously: Robert Lee Brewer's Poetic Asides blog, and Maureen Thorson's NaPoWriMo blog. I will try to combine their respective daily prompts when possible, but when I can't, it usually results in two poems, which isn't such a bad thing,

This year feels different from previous Poetry Months: we are in the midst of a pandemic, which is becoming devastating in parts of our country and the world. The flu virus itself may not be the worst disease known to mankind, but it is extremely contagious and has a mortality rate at least ten times more than other more common flus. So there is a high level of anxiety and fear around here these days, combined with a general shutdown of social life and non-essential services to try to tamp down the spread. We may come out of this with some aspects of everyday life permanently changed, just as we came out of "9/11" a number of years ago. Some of that may be reflected in my poetry this month, including today. I haven't been writing much in the last five or six months, and this is always a good jump-start for my creativity, but this year it's also a welcome distraction. So here is my first entry. The prompts for today are: (1) Write a "new world" poem, and (2) (in Maureen's words) "write a self-portrait poem in which you make a specific action a metaphor for your life – one that typically isn’t done all that often, or only in specific circumstances."

Fertilizing

One must be methodical about this,

for there is a science to it,

a stew of nitrogen, phosphates, potash.

Too much will leave a chemical burn,

so I push the broadcast spreader,

carefully calibrated by a numbered dial,

spraying little granules across the grass.

I march in parallel rows,                                           

back and forth, back and forth.

It takes my mind off the chaos inside -

the anxieties of a new world unfolding,

and by that I don't mean spring,

which has come early with a vengeance,

while we humans are battling an enemy

too small to see. Birds still regale us

with a cacophony of calls,

and the fruit trees have burst all at once.

But there are fewer planes growling overhead,

less subliminal traffic rumble, and the stores,

the schools, the baseball parks, are dark and quiet.

We hunker down at home trying to keep

from getting ill, and most of us find distractions

to keep the panic from our door.

Spring couldn't care less about our fears,

and goes on, business as usual,

so we try to embrace it, and I do my part,

preparing my lawn for summer, when things -

we hope - will be even more full of life.

Favorite Albums of 2019

So now that I got my list of favorite albums of the decade out of the way, here is my list of favorite albums of the year 2019, at least as they stand today:

1. The National - I Am Easy to Find

2. Hozier  -Wasteland, Baby!

3. Ryan Bingham - American Love Song

4. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Ghosteen

5. Sharon Van Etten - Remind Me Tomorrow

6. Bruce Springsteen - Western Stars

7. The Highwomen - The Highwomen

8. Josh Ritter - Fever Breaks

9. Gary Clark Jr. - This Land

10. Elbow - Giants of All Sizes

11. Wilco - Ode to Joy

12. The New Pornographers - In the Morse Code of Brake Lights

13. Maggie Rogers - Heard It in a Past Life

14. Vampire Weekend - Father of the Bride

15. David Byrne - David Byrne's American Utopia Original Cast Broadway Soundtrack

16. Jeff Tweedy - Warm/Warmer

17. Tedeschi Trucks Band - Signs

18. Jenny Lewis - On the Line

19. Brittany Howard - Jaime

20. Beirut - Gallipoli

21. J.S Ondara - Tales of America

22. Bruce Hornsby - Absolute Zero

23. Better Oblivion Community Center - Better Oblivion Community Center

24. Son Volt - Union

Favorite Albums of the Decade

My son challenged me to come up with a list of my favorite albums from the past decade (2010-2019), so here is a list as it stands at this moment. I may have overlooked a couple of favorites that deserve to be here, so this list may undergo some renovation eventually. Also, it was a real tough decision between #1 and #2. Arcade Fire made one of the most brilliant concept albums in recent memory, but Bowie's swan song, which continues to move me every time I hear it, edged them out by a nose. Also, I seem to think that 2011 was the best year of the decade, because of the five albums I picked from that year, all of them ended up in the top 10 - it just shook out that way.

Favorite Albums of the Decade (2010-2019)

1. Blackstar - David Bowie (2016)

2. The Suburbs - Arcade Fire (2010)
3. build a rocket boys! - Elbow (2011)
4. Bottle It In - Kurt Vile (2018)
5. The Whole Love - Wilco (2011)
6. 21 - Adele (2011)
7. Slave Ambient - The War on Drugs (2011)
8. So Beautiful or So What - Paul Simon (2011)
9. Wrecking Ball - Bruce Springsteen (2012)
10. I Am Easy to Find - The National (2019)
11. Elements of Light - Pantha du Prince (2013)
12. The Takeoff and Landing of Everything - Elbow (2014)
13. Lost in the Dream - The War on Drugs (2014)
14. The Next Day - David Bowie (2013)
15. Sleep Well Beast - The National (2017)
16. St. Vincent - St. Vincent (2014)
17. Transference - Spoon (2010)
18. Whiteout Conditions - The New Pornographers (2017)
19. American Band - Drive-by Truckers (2016)
20. Random Access Memories - Daft Punk (2013)
21. Brill Bruisers - The New Pornographers (2014)
22. Sound and Color - Alabama Shakes (2015)
23. My Head is an Animal - Of Monsters and Men (2012)
24. American Love Song - Ryan Bingham (2019)
25. Wasteland, Baby! - Hozier (2019)
26. The Nashville Sound - Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit (2017)
27. This is Happening - LCD Soundsystem (2010)
28. Golden Hour - Kasey Musgraves (2018)
29. Hell On... Neko Case (2018)
30. Pure Comedy - Father John Misty (2017)

PAD Chapbook Challenge: A Recap

So I've finished another poem-a-day challenge with 33 poems in 30 days (including three haiku).  I find I'm usually not as inspired in November as I am in April, and I didn't write a lot of formal verse except for a triolet and some lighter quarains. I also didn't really stick to a theme, so there may not be enough new material for a thematic chapbook. But it was a good feeling to write regularly again, and maybe some of those 33 poems are close to worthwhile. I'll share my ten favorites here, just in case you don't feel like slogging through 30 days of poetry posts:

[Day 3]

Alpha-Bits and Omega 3

I don't care one iota

if you're never a knockout like Catherine Zeta Jones.

I'd settle for Delta Burke.

My gamma never had to worry about nutrition,

so why should you? If you eat another yogurt,

you may start to mu.

I guess there's nothing nu

about health-conscious diets,

but I won't tau you what to eat or not.

You love Greek food, for instance,

with lambda die for, or a good gy-rho.

I'd beta fortune you'll live a long life.

So phi upon all of those who shame you,

although with a heavy psi,

you may admit you eta pi.

[Day 11]

Babble

what

have we

created

this tower of words

building itself on itself

reaching beyond our reach, high into the clouds

till the air gets thin, and we climb stratospheric heights

only to find that we don't understand one another anymore

what's the use in trying to touch the stars when we can't even communicate

pull back from that darkness, look at the darkness in your neighbor's face and

say take my hand, it's all right, climb down with me, and we can

breathe again, we can find something in common

we love, help me take the bricks

apart, build a place

where all of

us can

live

[Day 12]

Dervish

You troubleshooter, in demand,

I want to know: Who fixes you?

A crying shoulder, helping hand,

a troubleshooter on demand,

a schedule most could not withstand.

Who picks you up when you are blue,

or troubled, shot from all demands?

I want to know: Who fixes you?

[Day 13]

Pocket Rainbow

All the way from the sun

through the atmosphere,

a concentrated riot of photons,

I've traveled whole, warm and energetic,

down to earth and into a neighborhood,

only to be broken apart as I stream

through a beveled window in someone's front door.

I split into many wavelengths

and  bang up against a gray-upholstered couch

in the living room as a multicolored stripe,

seven colors projected onto fabric.

I delight two little girls, who try to catch me

in their hands and stuff me in their pockets,

but in vain. I want to say, It's just refraction, kids,

it's really no big deal. But they're still too little

to understand the science of it,

and besides, their grandmother says,

You can still pretend, and sometime later today,

reach into your pockets, and pull out a rainbow

to help you smile, so that red, orange, yellow, green,

blue, indigo and violet will color your day,

like a paint box of light.

I'm just glad to be of help.

[Day 16]

Free as a Bird

"...it's the next best thing to be..."

                                - John Lennon

oh, how you can soar now

over the Liverpool rooftops

over your mates, still tramping

the worn-down streets

through the grime and fog

of the city

oh, how you miss her

but she gave them your song

on a tape, and they took it

into their hearts and brought

it out again with harmonies

and his weeping guitar

oh, how you can hear it

wafting through the trees

while you rise above them all

on an updraft to clouds

and if you could you'd say

well done, lads, well done

[Day 18]

Rona's Song

On a bright May morning she stands

on the overlook to a desert valley.

She adjusts her bandana

against the wind and sand.

So much trouble, she tells herself -

the centuries of war and struggles,

the walls and cannonballs,

now crumbling and rusted,

the recently-ruined temples,

which stood for thousands of years,

and newer forces pouring like mercury

over the already punished land.  

You can say, So beautiful, or so what, 

she thinks, as she shoulders her weapon

and starts off to rejoin her unit.

On the way, she composes a song in her head

about how peace someday may come.

[Day 21]

River Cruise

Our longship cuts a lazy wake

up the Danube and down the Rhine

with the help of dozens of locks

that fascinate us every time,

raising us up, dropping us down

as we navigate a cultural corridor.

Budapest, Vienna, Cologne -

all jewels on this watery necklace

for us to inspect and admire.

We go topside to watch the passing sights -

little towns with scenic buildings,

and once, the trifecta -        

a church, a lighthouse, a castle.

Vineyards carpet the steep hills,

and soon we pass the Lorelei,

 a looming rock on the right bank of the Rhine,

infamous for its hazardous curve

which brought many ships to their doom.

Legend has it that the murmuring sound

sailors once heard while passing through

was a forlorn lover, a beautiful woman

who enticed them to their demise.

We slip through the snaky strait unscathed,

and continue our journey, relaxed.

For once, we have let someone else

do the driving for us, and the cooking,

the laundry, the washing-up.

From the left bank this evening,

sunset cuts through the trees,

and over chateaubriand and red wine,

we watch the wine-colored clouds.

[Day 23]

When to Play Christmas Music

First of all: never, ever, before Halloween.

That should be illegal.

I don't care if you already have

Christmas trees up in your store.

Rudolph was never destined to be friends

with the Werewolf of London,

and you can't do the Monster Mash

with jingle bells.

The two holidays are not meant to mix -

the lone exception being

The Nightmare Before Christmas.

Once you're into November, it's a toss-up:

those soft-pop radio stations

have special dispensation

to play it nonstop from November first,

but you don't have to listen to it.

Thanksgiving is a good benchmark,

although if it snows where you are

before then, all bets are off.

As soon as you've digested your turkey,

you can have free rein -

play the sacred or the secular,

the sublime or the silly,

the Hallelujah Chorus or

Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.

Just promise you won't drive your musical sleigh

crammed with holiday cheer

over your long-suffering family.

[Day 25]

Hipster Grace

Oh Lord,

or whatever higher power I may subscribe to,

bless this cold-brew coffee,

this microbrew IPA,

this kombucha, this green juice in a Mason jar.

Bless these kimchi tacos and tapas,

these sautéed ramps with kale and bacon,

this cauliflower-crust pizza with pancetta and foraged basil.

Bless this artisanal ancient-grain bread,

these matcha green tea donuts,

this blood orange gluten-free birthday cake.

In the name of Twitter, Snapchat and Instagram,

(click)

Amen.

[Day 29]

Have Yourself a Merry Little Whatever

If "Merry Christmas" is your choice

I'm cool with that; go celebrate.

If you like "Happy Holidays"

you're not a person I'd berate.

There is no "War on Christmas", folks -

there's no one persecuting you.

But don't assume that everyone

must share your Gospel-centered view.

Good people come in many forms;

in fact, so do their holidays.

If peace and love is their intent

they may observe in different ways.

So understand the world has room

for Hanukkah and Kwanzaa joy,

and even Solstice if you wish;

it's more than just a baby boy.