The Lutheran church I belong to is part of the mission territory called the Indiana-Kentucky Synod. This year they’ve created a photo-a-day event to mark the Advent season, with a different theme word for each day. Being a poet and not a photographer, I’ve taken a small liberty with the idea. 
Darkness
falls in soft folds, settles
into corners, wraps in muffled
layers that I tuck around
myself for the warm comfort
of unknowing
I’m a couple days late in posting this — Sunday 30 November was actually the first day of Advent — but I decided it was better to post late than not to post at all.
Advent 3
sometimes you gotta wait
for it: the punch
line, the other
shoe to drop, and even
when you know
it’s coming, it still catches
you by surprise
Though I apologize for my prolonged absence, I’m not going to try to explain beyond these two words: marching band.
My poetry buddy Doug Self tweeted for a word prompt last week, so I obliged. Here’s a link to his response (http://dougselfblog.wordpress.com/2014/11/18/bluffing/) and below is what I came up with.
Job Search
It’s a cat-and-mouse game, he said. One plays
dead, the other feigns disinterest. But which
is hunter and which is hunted? No, that’s not
quite right—
it’s a game of chicken, where each tries to guess
how far the other will go, who’s bluffing, who will flinch
first. Then again, he mused, the one who blinks
is the loser, so maybe
it’s more like dating, where each puts the best
foot forward. He nodded. The catch is, you don’t know who
is looking for a long-term relationship and who just wants
to hook up.
Oh, she said, you always have to assume
the latter.
Someone dear to me died suddenly and unexpectedly yesterday. Words are not enough, but they are all I have at the moment.
today my heart wears
sackcloth and ashes
squats dumb upon a heap of dirt
too sad even to keen
in time the One who keeps unsleeping
watch over those who struggle
will turn this mourning
into dancing, but not today
I took a little break from copyediting today to glance back through my journal for something to post. This is from early April, using a prompt I signed up to receive via e-mail during National Poetry Month.
Outside
yet again she had been
weighed in the scales of friendship and found
wanting, though she did not
know why, she felt certain
there had been cues, unreadable to her
misfit understanding, arcane signals
she did not receive
correctly, so once more she stood
apart, watched the turning
rope and tried to decipher
how the others knew when
to jump in
Posted in Poetry
Tagged National Poetry Month, poetry practice, poetry writing, prompted poetry, writing practice
I’m dreadfully behind despite the fact that I’ve been working like crazy for weeks. How is that possible? Some factor in this equation remains hidden to me at present. If you have any insight or suggestions, please share!
In the meantime, dear reader, please accept this summertime trifle as a token of my appreciation.
Fresh produce
the cantaloupe of desire
sits ripe and round
on the counter, its curved
fishnet skin giving off
aromatic hints of creamy
flesh within
Posted in Poetry
Tagged cantaloupe poetry, poetry practice, produce poetry, summer poetry, writing practice
Reblogged from the Lexington Poetry Month blog.
The dry spell ends
it was raining most gloriously
soft, gentle, steady
and she wanted it to continue
all night long
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Lexington Poetry Month, LexPoMo, poetry practice, writing challenges, writing practice
My parents would have celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary this week had my father not died 26 years ago.
Reblogged from the Lexington Poetry Month blog.
Our 50th Year
there will be no party, no surprise
trip to Hawaii, no family photographs
it feels so hollow, this
anniversary, a golden clanging
bell with no clapper, like me
without you
It feels strange to post a day eleven poem on day twelve. I offer the following by way of explanation.
Lame
today I must write a lame poem
because I don’t have time to write
a bad poem — truly bad poetry
takes as much skill and effort as good
poetry — perhaps even more
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Accents Publishing, Lexington Poetry Month, writing challenges
Reblogged from the Lexington Poetry Month blog.
Sagittarius
She sits at the table, hands wrapped around fresh
coffee. Her fingers trace out of habit
the large red heart on the mug. Yesterday’s news
lies open to the amusements
page, a shared morning ritual now
suddenly solitary. She has finished
the crossword and scramble, laughed
too loud at the comics, clucked amazement
at Dear Abby. All that remains
are the horoscopes. Beneath her husband’s sun
sign she reads, “Your challenge is to explore
the freedom of commitment.” With a sharp
bark of laughter, she lowers the mug and draws the waiting
pile of divorce papers across the table.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged Lexington Poetry Month, LexPoMo, poetry practice, writing challenges, writing practice
The Daily Compost 