Poems by MadameLavender
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
Yesterday 6:42pm
Yesterday 6:42pm
Greed and Tea
NaPo #24, April 24, 2018)
They sip, daintily, from
demitasses
as if the world weren't
amiss.
How swift, memory
does fleet
when swallowing mouthfuls of
contenders
belching in victory
after each gulp and acquisition.
Ah, the Fat Lady sings
for us all
since her bloated bloomers
burst
at the seams, in glut.
The hypothermia effect
sets in
where to keep the core, warm
blood and resources
are siphoned from extremities
to conserve the Mothership.
Do continue...
They sip, daintily, from
demitasses
as if the world weren't
amiss.
How swift, memory
does fleet
when swallowing mouthfuls of
contenders
belching in victory
after each gulp and acquisition.
Ah, the Fat Lady sings
for us all
since her bloated bloomers
burst
at the seams, in glut.
The hypothermia effect
sets in
where to keep the core, warm
blood and resources
are siphoned from extremities
to conserve the Mothership.
Do continue...
#NaPoWriMo2018
20 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
23rd Apr 2018 5:47pm
23rd Apr 2018 5:47pm
Dumpster Muse
NaPo 23, April 23, 2018)
I heard them cry
my name, muffled,
impacted,
breathless and suffocating
in a tomb of cast offs.
She threw them in there ,
I saw her do it .
Under the guise of discarding
my own meager waste, I
sought them out, those
who called out to me.
Carefully, I dislodged them,
a crate bursting
with vintage Christmas stockings
and linens,
Radko glass, still in boxes, wood
and wreaths--decor from
someone's family member
no doubt, passed on.
Why else would...
I heard them cry
my name, muffled,
impacted,
breathless and suffocating
in a tomb of cast offs.
She threw them in there ,
I saw her do it .
Under the guise of discarding
my own meager waste, I
sought them out, those
who called out to me.
Carefully, I dislodged them,
a crate bursting
with vintage Christmas stockings
and linens,
Radko glass, still in boxes, wood
and wreaths--decor from
someone's family member
no doubt, passed on.
Why else would...
#NaPoWriMo2018
23 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
22nd Apr 2018 10:17pm
22nd Apr 2018 10:17pm
Sanding
NaPo #22, April 22, 2018)
At last,
the sun saw fit
to awaken from winter slumber
and dry my paint
nearly before I’ve gotten it
on the chairs.
Folding ones, the vintage
wooden sort, slopped
with a gray-white amalgam of
watered down
partial-cans, mixture.
Wind chimes ring
in the distance, while
nest-building birds taunt
the cats
at windows.
They have no morals.
They would kill them
in an instant, save for
screens of separation.
Sun baked, soon enough, and
sanding shall begin,...
At last,
the sun saw fit
to awaken from winter slumber
and dry my paint
nearly before I’ve gotten it
on the chairs.
Folding ones, the vintage
wooden sort, slopped
with a gray-white amalgam of
watered down
partial-cans, mixture.
Wind chimes ring
in the distance, while
nest-building birds taunt
the cats
at windows.
They have no morals.
They would kill them
in an instant, save for
screens of separation.
Sun baked, soon enough, and
sanding shall begin,...
#NaPoWriMo2018
14 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
21st Apr 2018 9:15pm
21st Apr 2018 9:15pm
Flea Market Assholes
Napo #21, April 21, 2018)
No, I can’t break
a one-hundred dollar bill
at seven in the morning, for
the one-dollar item
you want to buy.
Did it occur to you
to get reasonable change
on your own, before
coming to the flea market, where
I don’t take bills larger than a twenty,
anyway
for fear of counterfeits?
You, sir, are an asshole.
No, my vintage folding dowel rack
IS NOT FOR FUCKING SALE!
Did you not see the large sign
taped on it
that says only the items displayed
on the rack
are for...
No, I can’t break
a one-hundred dollar bill
at seven in the morning, for
the one-dollar item
you want to buy.
Did it occur to you
to get reasonable change
on your own, before
coming to the flea market, where
I don’t take bills larger than a twenty,
anyway
for fear of counterfeits?
You, sir, are an asshole.
No, my vintage folding dowel rack
IS NOT FOR FUCKING SALE!
Did you not see the large sign
taped on it
that says only the items displayed
on the rack
are for...
#NaPoWriMo2018
25 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
20th Apr 2018 3:26pm
20th Apr 2018 3:26pm
Library Book Sale
NaPo #20, April 20, 2018)
Excitement of Thursday evenings
charges the air, like
aromas of popcorn
and syrupy candy at carnivals.
Some anticipate rides
and the hoopla of side shows
and crowds
while some anticipate a good book.
The carts roll out at six, and
basement doors fly open
to throngs of a different sort--
searchers of dollar movies, and
fifty cent paperbacks .
"Load a bag for a buck--take us too!"
Cry antiquated editions from hallway boxes.
Waiting lines at roller coasters
are no match...
Excitement of Thursday evenings
charges the air, like
aromas of popcorn
and syrupy candy at carnivals.
Some anticipate rides
and the hoopla of side shows
and crowds
while some anticipate a good book.
The carts roll out at six, and
basement doors fly open
to throngs of a different sort--
searchers of dollar movies, and
fifty cent paperbacks .
"Load a bag for a buck--take us too!"
Cry antiquated editions from hallway boxes.
Waiting lines at roller coasters
are no match...
#NaPoWriMo2018
20 reads
3 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
19th Apr 2018 5:11am
19th Apr 2018 5:11am
Kitty Walk
NaPo #19, April 19, 2018)
Step lightly
on toes
and furry kitty feet;
whiskers whisper
nuzzle-love,
in the sun--
Springtime hums along !
Sniff-a-sniff
ah, delight!
Bees a-buzz
Birds a-flight
catmint reaches for the skies,
makes for drowsy kitty eyes.
Scritchy-scratch
trees and grass
under paws--
warmth, at last!
Here come breezes,
wispy wafts
of dandilion haze--
run and chase
Tumble, roll
the flowers go
smiling at the brush of fur
on stems and...
Step lightly
on toes
and furry kitty feet;
whiskers whisper
nuzzle-love,
in the sun--
Springtime hums along !
Sniff-a-sniff
ah, delight!
Bees a-buzz
Birds a-flight
catmint reaches for the skies,
makes for drowsy kitty eyes.
Scritchy-scratch
trees and grass
under paws--
warmth, at last!
Here come breezes,
wispy wafts
of dandilion haze--
run and chase
Tumble, roll
the flowers go
smiling at the brush of fur
on stems and...
#NaPoWriMo2018
28 reads
5 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
18th Apr 2018 5:00am
18th Apr 2018 5:00am
Portrait of Dr. Joe
NaPo #18, April 18, 2018)
I remember his cigar, his
practical jokes—
days when we laughed at work
and there were no regulations
for what should have been
common sense safety
in the laboratory.
Pancreatic cancer took Joe, fast
and we hung his portrait on the wall
in remembrance.
Time loses things
and erases memories of
what once was.
Somewhere in the shuffle of change,
the portrait came down
in exchange for the new—
new people
new thoughts
new walls.
Progress.
I...
I remember his cigar, his
practical jokes—
days when we laughed at work
and there were no regulations
for what should have been
common sense safety
in the laboratory.
Pancreatic cancer took Joe, fast
and we hung his portrait on the wall
in remembrance.
Time loses things
and erases memories of
what once was.
Somewhere in the shuffle of change,
the portrait came down
in exchange for the new—
new people
new thoughts
new walls.
Progress.
I...
#NaPoWriMo2018
23 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
17th Apr 2018 4:19pm
17th Apr 2018 4:19pm
Four Piles of Poo
NaPo #17, April 17, 2018)
Sometimes I see white
flashes
and think it’s her
running by,
Mia,
full of youth, the prime
of barely out of kitten-hood.
The mind is full of trickery
at times like these.
There were four piles of shit
in the litter boxes
when there should have been
only three.
They don’t crap
more than once, daily,
and I,
the connoisseur
of kitty dung, know
which belongs to who.
Hers was there.
She’s come back, radiant,
new again
to make amends for...
Sometimes I see white
flashes
and think it’s her
running by,
Mia,
full of youth, the prime
of barely out of kitten-hood.
The mind is full of trickery
at times like these.
There were four piles of shit
in the litter boxes
when there should have been
only three.
They don’t crap
more than once, daily,
and I,
the connoisseur
of kitty dung, know
which belongs to who.
Hers was there.
She’s come back, radiant,
new again
to make amends for...
#NaPoWriMo2018
30 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
16th Apr 2018 2:44pm
16th Apr 2018 2:44pm
PART THE EIGTH: THE RIME CONTINUETH (a continuation of the Mariner's tale)
NaPo #16, April 16, 2018)
And so within these modern times
to seas, I still am led;
the Hermit hath absolved my soul,
though life and death are wed.
For what you glimpse upon the shores,
a mariner, I still be;
I plant my feet among the waves—
the Ocean, it is me.
I spend the days with mine eyes fixed
upon horizons, far
in hopes that my unearthly ship
shall hear my cries of “Hark!”
My arms, a-wave, a signaling
to all the slimy things
to clear a path atop the crests
and tempt what Fate shall bring.
But...
And so within these modern times
to seas, I still am led;
the Hermit hath absolved my soul,
though life and death are wed.
For what you glimpse upon the shores,
a mariner, I still be;
I plant my feet among the waves—
the Ocean, it is me.
I spend the days with mine eyes fixed
upon horizons, far
in hopes that my unearthly ship
shall hear my cries of “Hark!”
My arms, a-wave, a signaling
to all the slimy things
to clear a path atop the crests
and tempt what Fate shall bring.
But...
#NaPoWriMo2018
36 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
15th Apr 2018 12:43pm
15th Apr 2018 12:43pm
I Could Win
Written for Anna's "King of the Hill" comp)
But the thought of it
roils my stomach
and churns my guts.
I'll just applaud everyone
who entered here
because they're all winners, and
I'm the loser
because
I couldn't save one of my cats
from dying.
Case wins because
he lives in that fabulous place
where everyone is named
Alice or Mathilda.
Missy wins because
I just fucking love her, and
want to dry-hump all her craft projects.
Rabbit and Uma win because
they let me feature them
as...
But the thought of it
roils my stomach
and churns my guts.
I'll just applaud everyone
who entered here
because they're all winners, and
I'm the loser
because
I couldn't save one of my cats
from dying.
Case wins because
he lives in that fabulous place
where everyone is named
Alice or Mathilda.
Missy wins because
I just fucking love her, and
want to dry-hump all her craft projects.
Rabbit and Uma win because
they let me feature them
as...
#sadness
29 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
15th Apr 2018 4:58am
15th Apr 2018 4:58am
Three Bowls
NaPo #15, April 15, 2018)
That’s all that’s left,
just three.
I didn’t have to put yours down
this morning
and it tore me apart.
The little things will.
Like finding a clump of white fur
itched from a mat in your coat, glorious
and floating when you walked.
I tried to brush them out—the mats,
but couldn’t keep up
as the inevitable crept in, though
I kept one to still be able to touch your fur.
Maybe I should let the void implode—
close, and take with it, any desire
for another cat.
The others are so...
That’s all that’s left,
just three.
I didn’t have to put yours down
this morning
and it tore me apart.
The little things will.
Like finding a clump of white fur
itched from a mat in your coat, glorious
and floating when you walked.
I tried to brush them out—the mats,
but couldn’t keep up
as the inevitable crept in, though
I kept one to still be able to touch your fur.
Maybe I should let the void implode—
close, and take with it, any desire
for another cat.
The others are so...
#NaPoWriMo2018
28 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
14th Apr 2018 3:23pm
14th Apr 2018 3:23pm
An Experiment in Hope
NaPo #14, April 14, 2018)
I tried
to open the door, a crack, thinking
that If I peered out,
something hopeful
would peer back.
There was a fancied thing, that
seemed it could be prosperous, but
red flags flew high, once more
at subtle inconsistencies.
Tarnished views of certain
parts of the world,
of life,
reaffirmed themselves.
“What would you take
from me, if I’d swung the door
wide?”
I am content
once again, with
my own heart, if you don’t mind.
Next, I shall explore “trust” ...
I tried
to open the door, a crack, thinking
that If I peered out,
something hopeful
would peer back.
There was a fancied thing, that
seemed it could be prosperous, but
red flags flew high, once more
at subtle inconsistencies.
Tarnished views of certain
parts of the world,
of life,
reaffirmed themselves.
“What would you take
from me, if I’d swung the door
wide?”
I am content
once again, with
my own heart, if you don’t mind.
Next, I shall explore “trust” ...
#NaPoWriMo2018
22 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems by MadameLavender
