NaPoWriMo 20: Emerge Poem 1

NaPoWriMo 20: Emerge Poem 1 with thanks to Jane Hirshfield, Wick Poetry Center, and the March for Science. More of my NaPoWriMo entries are on my blog (link in profile). #poetsforscience #travelingstanzas #sciencemarch #napowrimo #poetry

New paradigm in global
exploration. Sub-meter resolution imagery
identify cultural heritage sites
across undeveloped landscape.
massive datasets
led to
human perception seeking undefined anomalies.

unknown anomalies
within remote data
statistical trends highlight
collective human perception.

For more information on what the heck is going on here, please visit Science Stanzas, which I discovered today because I attended the March for Science in Washington, DC (or at least before the rain made my thumbs cold and after Bill Nye spoke). I posted some pictures and video on Instagram if you’re curious.
Science for Stanzas

NaPoWriMo 19: Cake Almost Sonnet

Cake Almost Sonnet
NB: May 3 is my annual cake tasting day

Angel Food, Devil’s Food, Bûche de Noël
Madeira, King, Bundt, Lady Baltimore
Gingerbread, Death by Chocolate, Angel
Baked Alaska, Battenberg, Petits Fours

Coffee, Tiramisu, Babka, Daquoise
Molton Chocolate, Whoopie Pie, Pancake
Tea, Princess, Baba, Jaffa, Génoise
German Chocolate, Croquembouche, Cupcake

Meringue, Ice Cream, Wedding, Marble, Chiffon
Mille Feuille, Black Forest, Pavlova, Birthday
Applesauce, Madeline, Spice, Depression
Red Velvet, Yellow, Fruit, Swiss Roll, Soufflé
Rum, Tiramisu, Pineapple Upside Down
Coconut, Meringue, Carrot, Tres Leches
Sponge, Eccles, Sachertorte, Panettone, Pound

NaPoWriMo 18: Fabric


It’s not just the pattern and color, it’s the hand –
the feel of the fabric. I can tell just by rubbing fabric
whether or not it has polyester, cotton, silk, wool.
It’s the drape, too. That’s like the hand, but with gravity added –
how gracefully does it fold,
how does it move when it hangs,
how heavy is it.

Polyester was a miracle, just like nylon for pantyhose
before that they were silk. Imagine how that felt on your legs!
The chemical age brought a fabric revolution that’s still spinning out.

These days I prefer to work with wool, making my own fabric.
Measure twice, cut once, but you’re only cutting yarn with knitting.

NaPoWriPo 17

My apologies in advance for another intense poem. I’ll try to lighten things up tomorrow.


The tinkle of ice in a glass might sound like I’m recreating the scene
except I know in the end she stopped bothering with niceties like ice and glasses.
In the end, the only thing that mattered was the fastest escape route.

Did she stay up as late and as guiltily as I do?
Did she use the same excuses the next day?
Am I her, somehow? Do I inflict the same damage,
the damage her son never admitted to sustaining?
Are we similarly unreliable or did she hold it together better than I can?

Yes and no.

Exhibit A: another son, the one with fetal alcohol syndrome.
Exhibit B: the bottomless pit of need, of never-enough, in all her children.
Exhibit C, D, E: the broken hip, the DTs in the hospital,
her husband’s denial that she ever drank.

And yet here I am with ice in a glass pouring my amber escape.



NaPoWriMo 16: Arson


We saw the smoke from the fire before the fire itself, like you always do.
So much smoke that on the bus on the way home,
our grade school selves couldn’t figure out where it came from,
and then as we got closer, I saw my neighbor’s house, engulfed
and another, smaller column of smoke coming from the trailer on the hill.
Your parents took what they could –
a coin collection, a stamp collection, more –
and then set fire to your grandparents house, also an antique store.
To throw authorities off, they then set fire
to your house, the trailer on the hill:
burned both to cover their greedy fingerprints.

I always wondered: did you get your favorite toys out first?
Did you know or did they send you to school like any other day?

NaPoWriMo 15

It’s time to cart away the old growth in the garden beds
the branches and stems that didn’t yield to winter
It’s time to say goodbye, finally, to last year and all that I didn’t do then
I’ll stack those dried out brown branches and set them on fire
the way I want to cart out so many belongings –
projects that would have kept me satisfied
had I actually done them,
kitchenware for the gourmet meals I never got around to making,
clothes that fit the person I was 5 years ago.