Catching up: Poems 20-26

With this group of poems, I'm finally caught up.

Poem 20 Prompt:
Don’t use any visual images in today’s poem, just use your other senses

Tour Bus

Waves crash against the shore like a Midwest thunderstorm
Lava and coral scrape against skin
Acrid aroma of Kona coffee permeates the air
Sweet scent of plumera is everywhere
Diesel fumes pour from the tour bus as it rounds Kohala
Groaning through gears through the twisted highway
On the way we stop to taste freshly baked shortbread
Smell hybrid orchids that have the scent of chocolate
Listen to stories about Pele and King Kamehameha
Feel the vog vapor permeate our skin and lungs
A 280-mile drive around Hawaii’s Big Island
Captured by the senses

Poem 21: Write a sex poem but make it as unsexy as you can

Sex

In bed naked, his penis inserted in her vagina, no words of love, no tender caress, no thoughts about the future, no common past, he moved back and forth until he was done then rolled over without saying good night.

Silent tears flowed down her cheeks creating rivers of despair.
Knowing he didn’t care, she slipped back into her clothes and tiptoed down the stairs out into the starless night.

Poem 22: Write a poem of nostalgia for a time when you weren’t born yet.

Remember Me

My heart’s desire is to do something meaningful before I die,
Leave something behind that will be remembered
Long after I have passed away…maybe a book or a movie that
Makes a difference one day

Like some of the women authors who lived before me
Pearl S. Buck for instance who wrote The Good Earth in 1931 and
Won the Pulitzer Prize in 1932. A women’s rights crusader and philanthropist,
Who died at the age of eighty, working on a third sequel.

Or Jane Austin who died in 1817 at the age of forty-one
After writing Sense and Sensibility, Pride and Prjudice,
Mansfield Park and Emma. After her death she
Earned her a place as one of the most beloved writers in English literature.

Or Louisa May Alcot who put Little Women on the map, or Charlotte Bronte,
Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Mary Shelley, Willa Cather, Agatha Cristie
Or any number of women who spent a substantial amount of time
Committed to pen and paper, writing about what mattered most.

My name doesn’t have to be in neon lights or make front-page news
As long as something I say makes a difference to someone on a
Particular day, someone who will remember me when I am gone
Like the lyrics of a favorite song.

Poem 23: Write about weather and anger, but not as metaphors for each other

Duality

Hot sun beating down
Waves crashing on the shore
Sand or river rocks
Swimming, sunning, celebrating birthdays without rain
Summer is my favorite season.

Unless I’m skiing in newly fallen snow
Winter chills my bones
Keeps me up stoking the fire
Reminds me of mortality and what will never be
Makes me sad
Makes me mad.

Poem 24: Write about any form of personal adornment

Adornment

When my mother died, I became the recipient of a series of adornments
Coveted by women of her generation.
The silver colored mink stole my father gave her For their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary that I donated to Goodwill.
A chocolate brown mid-calf mink coat, I pull out every winter
when I’m too lazy to make a fire.
A string of cultured pearls, along with diamond earrings, rings, and drops
Safely stored in a safety deposit box.
As a child I used to love watching her get dressed for a special night out.
“One day all of this will be yours,”
She’d say spinning before the mirror, a sixty’s version of Carmen Miranda.
And now it is.

Poem 25: Write a poem with no adjectives or adverbs

Screenplay

INT. OFFICE OF FREELANCE WRITER – MORNING

WRITER (MUTTERING TO HERSELF):
No adjectives or adverbs. It’s like writing a screenplay.

ENTER HUSBAND CARRYING CUP OF COFFEE

HUSBAND:
Here. I made this for you. It’s Kona, from our trip.

HE SETS THE CUP DOWN NEXT TO HER DESK. JANET CONTINUES TYPING, NOT LOOKING UP.

WRITER:
Thanks.

HUSBAND SITS DOWN ON COUCH WATCHING HER

What?

HUSBAND:
Still writing poems?

WRITER NODS
I’m almost caught up.

HUSBAND:
You haven’t tasted the coffee.

WRITER:
You know, I haven’t been drinking it for the last six months.

HUSBAND:
Oh.

OBVIOUSLY ANNOYED, WRITER TURNS BACK TO HER WORK

Poem 26 Chose one: Write a poem about something you’re reluctant to write about OR write a poem about one of the elements: earth, fire, water, air

PTSD

Filled with rage, I was ready to leave
When the information came my way
It’s war trauma the therapist said, post traumatic stress disorder.
She listed the symptoms that had been shaping our life, my life.
Depression
Desire to isolate
Self-medication
Anger
Irritability
Difficulty concentrating
Numbness
Problems with authority, intimacy, and trust
Hyper-vigilance
Nightmares
Flashbacks
Avoidance of crowds, gatherings, and confined spaces
Is there a cure? I asked, needing hope
For him, there’s treatment that helps heal a wounded soul
For you, there’s understanding and empathy
There’s the path to acceptance
That’s when I discovered the Buddhist way.