brenda’s thoughts, watch out I’m Christian

I wrote this for a forum on tankas, (a form of Japanese poetry that has a 5,7,5,7,7 count) but I was kicked out of the forum for insulting someone who insulted someone else, but that’s what I get, I wouldn’t let my students get away with it so why should I expect to. Anyway, now I’ll just post it here.

A work in progress

The first daffodil

Bloomed last week in my dad’s yard

If it weren’t alone

I would have picked it for sure

More will come so I will wait

Beautiful flower

Bright yellow in winter’s grey

Brimming with sunshine

This cold January day

Singing, “Spring is on its way”

I’m trying to stop rhyming

One single flower

With a great task before it

A scout, forerunner

Breaking ground, clearing the way

Bringing hope of warmer days

I’m bundled up tight

Against winter’s frosty air

A daffodil blooms

All I do is stare at it

I’d forgotten about spring

I’m trying to stop speaking in phrases/sentences too, which is hard because I spent yesterday morning correcting papers. I’ll be seeing capitalization, comas, ending marks, and run on sentences in my sleep for days.

I’m trying to stop

I’m trying to not write rhyme

I’m trying to stop

Stop writing in short phrases

But it happens every time

Maybe I have a poetic handicap

Beautiful yellow

Background of grey, brown and dull

Snags my attention

Image imprinted … still

Ray of hope, I remember

Durn, I thought I’d never that thing out

Kids are wonderful and curious things

One minute you’re changing their diapers

The next their changing light bulbs you can’t reach

One minute you’re telling them about who they should be dating

The next they are telling you about a church you should be going to

One minute they need you

The next minute they don’t

The next minute you need them

Kids are curious and wonderful things

A friend of mine came back from
Africa today

I spent the afternoon in memories of Africa

Of Uganda

Of poverty

Of orphaned children

Of orange dust in the air

Of walking for an hour to get water then waiting in line for an hour

Of teenage girls who beg to be taken away

Of cattle roaming through dumps for food to eat

Of armed gunmen for escorts

Of church services on dirt floors in tiny villages

Her eyes looked off while she spoke

She was not here with us

She was still in Africa

I went home

To delivery pizza

To the wrong hook ups for the dryer

To new debit MasterCard in the mail

To prescriptions that need to be refilled

To emails from friends

To thermostats and weather reports

And thought of Africa

And was changed

Went to the river yesterday

Wanted to spend the last day of the year doing something I love

Hoisted the kayak on the roof of the car

And headed up the road

Radio screaming

And me howling right along

I went to Juliet

A town filled with memories of the past year

I pushed myself into a wetsuit and water boots

I fit in my kayak like a pair of worn out jeans

Ragged and tattered but comfortable

Shove off with my hand against the rocky bottom

The water is icy

The wind is biting

Small craft advisory today

The river grabs hold and turns me around and around

I face into the wind, heading up stream

Dig deep with my strokes

A strong, deep rhythm

Stroke

Stroke

Left side, right side

Left side, right side

I pick up speed

I’m like a knife forcing myself to cut through the elements

Up my nose bounces

Down it smacks on the water

Splash and spray

Like frozen confetti in my face

Down I smack

Splash and spray

Stroke

Stroke

Left side, right side

Left side, right side

Down I smack

Splash and spray

Like a ride at the fair

Laughter rips out of me

To the island I head

To lie on the sand in the sun

Like lying in the arms of a lover

Happy and content

The year is done