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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Parker's NaPoWriMo 2017 - 3. April 16 - 22

A busy week. You can tell if I get reduced to thinking in couplets. I am sure there are errors contained herein. They are my responsibility only. You can be responsible for smiles or tears or snorts of derision.

April 16

Can you explain why
negative times negative
equals positive?

Signs alike attract, my love,
so it was ordained above.

If I were to add
unlike fractions together,
can I cross-cancel?

Anger rarely works, my dear:
treat your fractions with good cheer.

When I integrate,
what part of the expression
gets substituted?

False are friends who promise much,
better use the simpler touch.

Isn't the tangent
in the unit circle graph
perpendicular?

Angles take it in their head:
go where demons fear to tread.

Sorry, I can't hear:
will this new material
be in the next test?

Stitch and mend and cut your cloth,
don't get lathered in a froth.


April 17

I.
To be an angel is no easy task
for one might harp while others stand on guard
or do such things as heaven's voice may ask -
it matters not if one should think them hard.
Regardless if the job be sword or song,
the principles of paradise are prime,
for angels always know what's right from wrong,
as they have done since ere the birth of time.
Though merely mortal might we not ascend
to greater heights than those with robes and wings,
as we each other's errors may amend
as kindness, grace or mercy often brings.
For higher than the angels do we live,
humanity has power to forgive.

II.
Robins'
pre-dawn chorus
serenades morning stars
better than angel hosts sang at
Christmas;
heaven could not ask for greater glory
to herald the blessings
of love for the
new day.


April 18

I'm sorry that I daydream;
sorry I take too long on the most basic of tasks,
and sorry I'm going deaf;

I'm sorry I neglected
to check my pockets before putting my clothes in the wash
and sorted the laundry wrong;

I apologize that I
leave important decisions hanging till the last minute,
and often choose the wrong thing;

I'm sorry I tend to hover;
I'm sorry I seem incapable of turning out lights
and for reading late at night;

I'm sorry I wasted your years,
sorry for habits I can't break, and for things you can't take,
and for my insecurity;

Yet in all my transgressions
there is the one, enduring, abiding, transcendent grace:
your warm and forgiving smile.


April 19

We never swam in waters deep,
our conversations did we keep
to subjects erudite or plain;
the recollection makes me weep.

A chat in most familiar vein
did not arise in your domain,
our minds for higher things were bent
from carnal insight to abstain.

And thus to schooling was I sent,
the brain and body to augment,
but naught about my secret joys
was said, despite the soul's ferment.

I wish I'd talked with you of boys,
and how one's ignorance destroys,
or that suppression's price is steep
to him its sterner tools employs.


April 20

So now we mind manners, if manners there be,
they'll drive you bananers, and don't slurp your tea.
What place for your salad fork's valid, I ask;
to whom sing your ballad, untaken to task?
How far and acutely to bow in Japan?
Or compliment chefs in remote Kazakhstan?
How nice to respond to a text message vile?
Share sympathies grave in the Emerald Isle?
If chilly in Chile, are sweaters okay?
To every Canadian must we say 'eh?'
Exposing your shoulders is rude in Assam,
but go right ahead in South Beach without qualm.
Some actions cause riots or laughter, I know,
depending on where on the Earth you might go.
A turn signal's proper when driving in Linz,
in Boston, to signal will make others wince.
Wherever your palace or humble estate,
a kiss is good manners with you and your mate.

 

April 21

I.
Why are the things I'd just as soon forget
so permanently lodged within my brain,
wherein they sing lugubrious refrain
to strains of shame's abrasive clarinet?
A night recording songs on blank cassette,
affection from my hopeless crush to gain;
but my existence seemed to him a bane
to be consigned to schoolboy oubliette.
And now I'm in the twilight of my years,
forgetting comes more easily, I find;
recalling lunch will often grind my gears,
my cerebellum often is unkind;
but even as my final couplet nears,
your lovely smile is ever on my mind.

II.
I wish
I could forget
the look upon your face:
revulsion, incredulity,
disgust;
silver
dawn light differs from shadowed night,
cold facts from passioned heat;
truth from urge to
forget.


April 22

I believe in love between
heart and heart, though sight unseen;
I believe I'll give away
of myself from day to day;

I believe in being kind,
charity in act and mind,
for compassion understands
love is passed through all our hands;

I believe in mercy free,
in forbearance constantly,
I am pledged to justice true,
every person, every hue;

I'm naive enough to hope
that forgiveness is no trope;
I believe we'll all abide,
reconciled and side by side.

I believe that you and I
light the world as life goes by;
and I trust that all we do
strengthens, builds my love for you.

Please consider leaving a comment or remark. Rants or raves are welcome, and so is everything in between.
Copyright © 2017 Parker Owens; All Rights Reserved.
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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  • Site Administrator

Another great selection, Parker.  They're all written with your usual flair for form and imagery.  The manners poem made me laugh.  Nice job. :) 

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Given the week you've had, I'm astounded at your creativity and humour. I'm sorry had me smiling in recognition the most, but the manners one had me laughing, partly at your ingenious ways of finding rhymes ... :)

 

I'm off to see if I've got any creative thoughts (got some to spare, have you? ;) )

 

PS second to last stanza of I'm sorry has a 'I'm sort' ...?

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Hi Parker, wonderful poems!! The first one made me laugh as the one about manners does! And the last one is like a confession. I love it. Hugs Lyssa

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2 hours ago, northie said:

Given the week you've had, I'm astounded at your creativity and humour. I'm sorry had me smiling in recognition the most, but the manners one had me laughing, partly at your ingenious ways of finding rhymes ... :)

 

I'm off to see if I've got any creative thoughts (got some to spare, have you? ;) )

 

PS second to last stanza of I'm sorry has a 'I'm sort' ...?

I'm sort I made that typpo.  But thank you for catching it! I have corrected it now. As for creative thoughts, you may have as many as you like. They are mathematical in nature, though...

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2 hours ago, Lyssa said:

Hi Parker, wonderful poems!! The first one made me laugh as the one about manners does! And the last one is like a confession. I love it. Hugs Lyssa

 

How perceptive of you to say that about April 22! It is a kind of self-revelatory poem, if not a complete confession. And I am glad the manners poem made you smile; it could have gone on and on. Thank you so much for reading and commenting.

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All wonderful Parker. But April 22 is my fav., if you aren't all of those now, or do them all now, you sure do attempt to. Lovely poem imo. 

 

tim xo

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What a wonderful selection of form and mood you give us. It seems so easy, you even toss in a couple two a days for good measure. The images provoked ... where else might one take a tumble in to a "schoolboy oubliette"? I salute you.

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1 hour ago, dughlas said:

What a wonderful selection of form and mood you give us. It seems so easy, you even toss in a couple two a days for good measure. The images provoked ... where else might one take a tumble in to a "schoolboy oubliette"? I salute you.

Thank you...especially for picking up on that last phrase, which succinctly describes so much of what I wish to forget about middle and high school.  You are very good to comment on these. They are hardly profound, but mean much to me. 

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4 hours ago, Mikiesboy said:

All wonderful Parker. But April 22 is my fav., if you aren't all of those now, or do them all now, you sure do attempt to. Lovely poem imo. 

 

tim xo

 

I liked doing Apr 22 as it reminded me more and more of an old old program called 'This I Believe.' My voice seemed to get stronger as I wrote it. Thanks a lot for reading these, and for your thoughts. Xo^2. P

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I've just had my second read-through, my friend, and sense you had a pretty emotionally rough week... On a technical note, there's no doubt that you continue to be on a highly accomplished arc of sonnet development. The ones here are all very fine, and the smoothness of April 21 is admirable (but you know I'm insecure about my own Italian Sonnets...). 

 

A lot of these poems break my heart, and I wish you didn't feel you have to say sorry to anyone - mostly yourself. Hugs <3 

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5 hours ago, AC Benus said:

I've just had my second read-through, my friend, and sense you had a pretty emotionally rough week... On a technical note, there's no doubt that you continue to be on a highly accomplished arc of sonnet development. The ones here are all very fine, and the smoothness of April 21 is admirable (but you know I'm insecure about my own Italian Sonnets...). 

 

A lot of these poems break my heart, and I wish you didn't feel you have to say sorry to anyone - mostly yourself. Hugs <3 

You read me so well. Your comments on the sonnets make blush, and I will treasure them. There were prompts this week to encourage reflection and introspection, and melancholy came bubbling to the surface. I thank you for reading these with a keen eye - not once, but twice!  I am very grateful.

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