The Portfolio Project

I've been playing along with The Portfolio Project since the beginning of the year. You can read more about the specifics here.

Since writing poetry is a process, involves a lot of revision, I don't have a lot of "product" to show for the work I've done. I've been hesitant to go back through the raw pages I've written. Right now, I am just creating a pile of pages - raw material to be sifted through later for ideas and images.

But I have written a few things that I can call poems during the project and I will share two of them below.

Please check out Jen Lee and see how other folks are playing the game.


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Matin


The purple slip of sunrise
all that is still and not still
in the predawn darkness
birds, breeze, baying of the basset hound
two houses down.

The hum of morning
in the house over my shoulder
the smell of promised rain
the cold of the porch
under my bare feet
cool air closing, wrapping
around me like a shawl.

Stepping into morning
the call and response of birdsong
low rumble of traffic half a mile away
how as the sun comes up
the buried light in everything
begins to seep out, take color
resurrect.


#5

Stepping out into early evening
it is fifteen seconds at most
of standing in the moist air
looking up at the
almost full moon
as the clouds blow past
time to take
maybe one breath
and back into
the beating heart of the house
with its dinner, its child,
a basket of socks.

April Taught Us

If you do not ask
you will never know.

Movement is easy.
Stillness is difficult.

Things will
probably
be okay.

Stop.
Stop again.

A lot of good
is possible.

Some things
never change.

A half-familiar tune
on the wind.

Yes.

You
still
believe.

It is all still there
waiting for you.

He Asks, I Answer

How long does it take
how long
to learn something
something hard as
riding a bike
knitting a sock
teaching a class
growing a tomato
cooking a turkey?

I am here, honey
to tell you
it takes a long time
a long time
and you will
skin your knee
start over ten times
embarrass yourself a little
over water
burn your hand
and beat your little head
against the table.

But the hard things
the really hard things
the things that drive you crazy
the things you want the most
are almost always
worth it.

Complaint

After a long day
a long day of chores
with some worry
and a niggly little headache
I am more than happy
to sit down and complain
just a little
over dinner.

Breeze

A strong breeze
blowing through this afternoon
knocking things from the trees
and driving the windchimes crazy.

After Dinner 2008

With the meal all but done
we sit over what's left
a spoon of potatoes
shrimp in a small
puddle of lemon
as we finish our wine
and the music
comes to an end.

Meanwhile, my son
is at the computer
leaving a comment on my blog.

The Certainty of the Green World

Sometimes
it is
the smallest bird
that sings
the biggest song.