Tag: Poem

Thirty-One Things I Learned in March – Plus a Picture Poem

  1. March is a long month.
  2. I am a slow writer.
  3. The Global Pandemic ended on March 6.
  4. Writing makes me hungry.
  5. Those little blurbs we have to write on TWT when we post our slice are like a whole other assignment for me at 6:00 a.m. when all I want to do is get the darn thing posted.
  6. I noticed more funny things in my class in March.  Did my class get funnier or did I just start noticing more?
  7. Number 6 is a question not something you learned.
  8. I can be very picky at times.
  9. The hour from 10:00 to 11:00 goes really fast when I finally get on a roll and want to finish a piece of writing so I can go to sleep.
  10. Reading other people’s stories often gives me ideas.
  11. Reading other people’s stories sometimes intimidates me into inaction.
  12. I still compose best in Comic Sans. It’s like an anticoagulant.
  13. I begin a lot of sentences with And.
  14. And I’m okay with that.
  15. The books I read often inspire me to write.
  16. I take frequent breaks until I actually find my idea.
  17. Out of the first 20 items on my list of “Possible Slice Topics,” I only wrote slices for 7.
  18. Out of the second 25 items on my list of “Possible Slice Topics,” I wrote slices for 24.
  19. Yeah, but that’s because you added them after you wrote the slice.
  20. Sometimes I feel like I have a split personality.
  21. You do.
  22. No matter how much practice I’m getting with my writing, I always think the stuff I wrote last year is better than the stuff I’m writing now.  
  23. Staying home so much made it a little harder to find new ideas.
  24. This challenge made me a little more self-centered than usual.
  25. Daily writing is easier for me than weekly writing. 
  26. Writing shorter pieces is not easy for me.
  27.  March is a really long month.
  28. You can’t say that twice; it’s cheating.
  29. So is putting obnoxious responses on line 28 and pretending it’s something you learned.
  30. “The Class Menagerie” and “The Year of the F-Words” were my favorite slices and my favorite titles.
  31. I like having this huge writing community, but I love having a small crew of faithful, thoughtful commenters.

Finally, here is a “poem” dedicated to 2020.

Written in Collaboration with a Woodpecker

Where I’m From*

*Inspired by George Ella Lyon and Sara K Ahmed

Another revision…

I’m from a Lutheran Swede and a New York Jew,
From hard bread, herring and liver glop,
I’m from “tack för maten” and “oy gevalt.”
I’m a mutt.

I’m from a chewed-up ball, 
A New Haven souvenir,
I’m from photo-fed memories 
And “the man upstairs.”

I’m from a mimosa tree at the top of a hill, 
With feathery leaves and cottony blooms.
I’m from MLK and RFK,
The hopes and the hate of ‘68.

I’m from piano practices shirked 
and pop flies shagged.
I'm from Hondo homers, Unser snags
and loyalty to underdogs.

I’m from traipsing up trails and Deep Woods Off,
Tripping on roots and gasping for air,
I’m from filling canteens in mountain streams,
Then spreading arms wide on a rocky peak.

I’m from a date at a diner,
To artichoke feasts.
I’m from adoption angels
And bed-rest miracles.

I’m from a Hazel on the tube
And a Hazel underground, 
I’m from a Little House on the Prairie
And A Chair for my Mother.

I’m from out of sight, 
Out of mind, but
I’m from places I’ve left
And can never leave behind.

I’m from losing a child,
and butterfly sightings, 
I’m from night-long talks, 
And Out of the Darkness walks. 

I’m from scratching the chins
Of two white-muzzled pups, 
I'm from other mutts
Who carried on.