GOP Spelling Bee (Old Guard vs. New)

Posted September 25, 2016 by ManicDdaily
Categories: news, poetry, Uncategorized

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GOP Spelling Bee (Old Guard vs. New)

Hey, I’m Dan Quayle, and I’m peeved!
All I didn’t know was how to spell “potato,”
while this old wheeze wouldn’t even try,
just morphed the word
into “fry.”

And they don’t even give him any heat!
She–eeet!
When they said, ‘but the word was
“potato,”’ he said, “some people
heard it as ‘fry’–

“And besides,” he asided,
“a lot of people like fries–”

Okay, but the word
was potato!

So, now, let’s pretend
this isn’t the rendering
of a spelling bee word
but of being and the world–
he still would spell it,
fry.

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A very belated offering for Rommy’s prompt on Real Toads to write of a famous “sidekick.”  In this case, Dan Quayle, who was George W. Bush’s Vice President, got into trouble at one point by mis-correcting school children’s misspelling of potato.  (He added an e to the end.)  Drawing, such as it is, is mine–all rights reserved. 

Strange Ways of Old Grief

Posted September 25, 2016 by ManicDdaily
Categories: poetry, Uncategorized

Tags: , , , ,

 

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Strange Ways of Old Grief

When you touch me like
full summer,
I should, like grass, glow heedless
of what’s mown,
you as full of rest
as those rusting dusks
that hillsides carry
in their arms, and I am in
your arms,

but some just part of me
rears inside
like an accuser at the back
of a wedding pew,
remembering those who lost such bliss
too soon–
what do I even know of their bliss?–those friends
I loved–

and in that would-be sweetness, I weep,
brain a jungled heap
of their mounded flowers, the waxed
moon blooms–how could you leave me, I think to them,
though I was the least
death left behind–

while you, like those dusks whose only rustling
is warmth, just hold me closer
than passing day, as closely as the hillsides hold
their indigoed grass,
we two also
turns of earth.

 

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Here’s a draft poem of sorts for Kerry O’ Connor’s reprising “Play it Again, Sam” prompt on With Real Toads -this one influenced by the remarkable poetry of James Wright (original prompt by Grace.)  I’m calling it a draft as still revising it even as posting–the pic is mine.  All rights to both poem and pic reserved. 

 

Sad Tonight as Woman and (Mostly) New Yorker

Posted September 19, 2016 by ManicDdaily
Categories: news, Uncategorized

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Saved Maple Leaf

Posted September 17, 2016 by ManicDdaily
Categories: poetry, Uncategorized

Tags: , , , , ,

Saved Maple Leaf

The maple leaf found itself
in a dresser drawer.
It was not crinkled into
the plastic pin box,
which once snagged jewelry in a slice of sponge,
but now held only a small tooth
gullied by sienna.

It was not slipped
into the envelope of cut hair whose strands stuck together
as if still attached
at the roots.

It did not bind to the rippled chorus programs, flapped homework, rustle
of candy wrappers,

nor tuft in the ruffled kleenex,
wind around the purple crayon, nor nestle
in the slightly sandy scatter
of shells, each too small
to sound the sea.

No; it lucked into
a flattened smear of lotion (containing lanolin),
which (as is somehow the task allotted to sheep), shawled it
in a protective lawyer, so that its veins retained
their suppleness; its crimson its red.

Though, still, the drawer grew dead,
for reasons the leaf could not fathom,
even as it dreamed when sun warmed the wood overhead
of pancakes–
it felt a curious kinship with pancakes–until,

over time, the lanolin shedding
its fat, the leaf mourned
its pine life,
crimping painfully
as it remembered the chatter of the tooth’s
rattled box, and the touch that used to rifle
through the programs, searching
for a last piece
of that candy,
remembering too the proud “ooh”
that proclaimed the enveloped hair,
and the blue that would show there, in
the opening, some of the sky
fallen through.

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Here’s a narrative poem of sorts for my own prompt on Real Toads.   The pic is mine, though the wood background not the raw pine I imagine for this dresser. 

Dear Mom (and Donald), Putin’s Not Really a Great Guy

Posted September 17, 2016 by ManicDdaily
Categories: Cartoon, drawings, Hillary Clinton, news, Uncategorized

Tags: , , , ,

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My mom who is normally quite sensible about politics spoke quite favorably about Putin the other day, after hearing all the Trump hype, and also because she heard that he had learned German while working (for the KGB) in East Germany and thought somehow that this may have reflected a friendship with Angela Merkel.  ( Anyway, we discussed it all at length– some of which is recorded above!)  Thanks, poet friends, for putting up with these political pictograms.  

There are many beings probably stronger than Hillary Clinton

Posted September 13, 2016 by ManicDdaily
Categories: Hillary Clinton, Uncategorized

Tags: , , ,

 

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To those of you that have the faith, keep it!  (Sorry for the amateurish aspects of my pictures, the spirit is genuine enough.)  

9/11 (Villanelle)

Posted September 11, 2016 by ManicDdaily
Categories: 9/11, poetry, villanelle

Tags: , , , ,

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9/11

The burning buildings woke me from a sleep
of what I thought important, nothing now.
I ran hard down the smoking, crumbling street,

praying that my child was mine to keep,
dear god oh please dear god I whispered loud;
the burning buildings woke me from a sleep.

Some stopped to stare, all of us to weep
as eyes replayed the towers’ brutal bow.
I ran hard down the smoking, crumbling street.

North sky a startling blue, the south a heap
of man-wrought cloud; I pushed against the crowd;
the burning buildings woke me from a sleep.

I’d never complain again, never treat
with trivial despair–or so I vowed.
I ran hard down the smoking, crumbling street.

I’d change, give thanks—I saw them leap—
and begged for all the grace God would allow.
The burning buildings woke me from a sleep;
I ran hard down the smoking, crumbling street.

 

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This is an old poem (approximately 15 years old in fact).  Am posting in memoriam and gratitude too, for the grace that I was allowed that day.

Pic is slightly newer, also mine, al rights reserved.