I’m writing every day of March for the Slice of Life Challenge at Two Writing Teachers
My Day: An inside Haiku
No-window meeting
warm sun outside but inside
sitting on hard chairs
March 16 My Day: An Inside Haiku
Category Archives: poetry
March 14 Disappointments, I can’t even.
Disappointments on March 14
I don’t blame my kitten, Clyde
for trying to sneak his paw into my cup of oat milk
He can’t even
believe
I have a cookie I won’t share with him
At noon I had a great idea
I’d clean my floors tonight
My evening self
can’t even believe
I thought that
I
can’t even
believe
how often
I have to clean my stovetop
My book is laughing at me from the counter
It can’t
even
believe
I thought I’d read today
Magic Poetry Slice
Part of Slice of Life at Two Writing Teachers
The live Verizon agent wants me to
allow them
a
moment
they want to know
“how your day going has been so far.”
Oh, Live Agent
Let me speak to you in poetry
instead of expletives
Maybe poetry is the
magic
my phone bill needs. . .
How my day going has been so far —
My dog chewed something he found in the trash
again
My dog keeps trying to sneak upstairs
again
My cat is trying to steal the onions
again
This is how my day going has been so far
From my couch, I can see the laundry
I folded it
last week
and the bills I just paid
bills!
I should be working
This is how my day going has been so far
I am once again on my phone with
yet another live chat agent
This is how my day going has been so far
There have been so many
lies
on these live chats
I have renamed them,
Lie chats
This is how my day going has been so far
This Verizon Agent
Oh, this Verizon agent
is trying their best
I appreciate them
doing their job
but I might throw my phone across the room
anyway
“You’re like family to Verizon and we can’t let you unhappy at any point.”
This agent tells me
And maybe this poem
is magic
because this Verizon agent
My favorite one so far
Assures me that they will take care of it for me
There is hope
The sun is going down
My dog is resting
and my favorite Verizon agent signed off
“Your appreciate is my trophy,” they tell me
It’s like they know I’m writing poetry
I can’t write
this is boring
and I don’t expect you
to read it
writer’s block
must mean I’m actually
a writer
even my journal
the self-love guided one
is closed
oh, I was gonna write
but then the cat fight happened
woke up the dog
now every line
is interrupted by my shouting
FINN STOP IT
he can’t stop
the cat food is just sitting there
calling his name
even at 6 am
there are too many distractions
around me
easy roadblocks
around me but also in my head
I am a distraction
this is why
I can’t write anymore
damnit
I miss you
I miss you.
I missed you in New York
City
the way you
drove
us and found parking
the way you
led us
through the neighborhoods
the way we always went to the
same
restaurants
the way you always
paid
on your credit card for points
the way you told us
later
how much we owed you
the way we’d
walk
forever
the way you sat in front
when we took a taxi
and talked to the driver
the way you popped
into a bar
for a beer
I want a beer
you’d say
I could live here
you’d say
how did you always
find the best
hidden bars?
later we would pour a glass of wine
sit in the hotel
or on the rooftop deck
we’d talk about our New York
memories
and eat the snacks Kris packed
Our last time in New York
City
you knew
you knew it was your
last
time
I told myself there would be
more
time
I missed you in New York
this
time
I’ve got nothing
Part of Slice of Life Tuesdays on Two Writing Teachers. Join us!
I’ve got nothing
to say
My holiday
is over
Pushing snooze
Just makes me a loser
It doesn’t make the
clock stop
My daughter
is insisting on leaving
So cruel-
She’s going back to stupid school
Whatever, I’m proud but
allowed to miss her already
Damnit
The shade in my family room hates me
I guarantee – it sticks
every
time I try to close it
I hate it too
So there
I couldn’t figure out who would be knocking
so late and so weirdly at my door
But it was my ice maker
finally making ice cubes after all these years!
or actually just one tiny sliver of ice
then no more
shocking.
The dog barked loudly
for so long
Now I don’t know if a car parked
someone walked by
a deer ran through my yard
or a serial killer snuck up
He’s probably still waiting for me
Crouched nearby
Happy
New
Year
Clyde
Clyde is a busy kitten
He runs toys up and down the stairs,
Hisses at the dog
Chases the other cats.
So you’ll understand why it’s such a gift
that he has decided to sit next to me while I write —
First to stretch and look cute on the cushion next to mine
Then right up against my thigh.
He cleans his feet – six toes splayed out
Licks his belly
He lets me scratch his soft soft head
But tries to kill my hand when I rub his belly
Sleeping on my other side,
not noticing Clyde-
The dog is clueless
But, the battle is imminent
Some Writing Advice
You should carry a notebook
always
If you want to be a writer
Like me
So if you think of something
hear something
see something
you can collect it
to remember to write later
Any notebook will do
I use my notes App
Because I can’t be trusted
to carry more things around with me
I mean, are you kidding me?
Collect those stories and ideas
In meetings
During D&D Campaigns
(Especially, during D&D Campaigns)
Before you fall asleep
Only then will you
Really
Be a Writer
Like me
Just this past week I collected stories and ideas
In meetings:
You get to take the cactus in the end
During a D&D Campaign:
I might be intimidating without the mockery
And my personal favorite …
Before I fell asleep:
My sfuccte oh c oh dd
I be should get f in or hi if cjkefw
So much potential in
Collected ideas
Plus –
Never forget
revision, writers
I might be intimidating without the mockery
You get to take the cactus in the end
My sfuccte oh c oh dd
I be should get f in or hi if cjkefw
Prius
it’s been raining, and it’s about to rain again
but even dogs who don’t like rain, need walks
so Finn and I walk
down, around, through the park, back up and around
he sniffs the rain-green grass, I sniff the air
the smell of the wood burning stove
from the house on the corner
is my favorite
we cross the quiet street
on a diagonal
avoid a Prius silently coming closer
finn loves the sound of a Prius
it’s the sound of someone coming home
he stops at the corner, head turned
wags his tail
sits at perfect attention
won’t budge when I ask him to
I don’t have the heart
to force him, show him I’m boss
the Prius parks
the man stares at us
Finn’s tail keeps wagging expectantly
I want to explain to the man
my dog thinks you’re his dad
he doesn’t understand that our Prius doesn’t come home anymore
that is why we are standing on the corner
staring at you
and the rain-green grass
What’s in a name?
I remember sitting on my fiance’s mom’s bed after her husband’s funeral. I was on a corded landline, talking with my high school drama teacher. It was just weeks before my wedding. She told me she hoped I wouldn’t let the death of my fiance’s dad pressure me into changing my name. I didn’t. I kept my name.
I remember my daughter’s birth. I didn’t want to have a name different from hers. So, I filled out paperwork, updated my license and taught everyone at school to call me by my new title. One of the secretaries never got it right. For years, she would call me over the PA system by my old name. I knew she was talking to me though.
A few weeks ago, after my divorce was officially final, I called the Social Security Office, confused. In order to prove I was a real person, I needed all kinds of paperwork. It seemed silly since somewhere I still have the Social Security card that I got when I was like 12. I wondered why I couldn’t just use that and pretend the last few decades never happened. Instead I had to have my doctor’s office give me paperwork proving who I was. Thankfully the doctor agreed, I am indeed a real person.
Today I opened the mail from Social Security and pulled out my new card.
So now,
I am officially the
old me with my
new (old) name
on my
new
social security card
that looks a lot like my
old old card
On a Thought 