Poetry – Page 42 – michael jarmer

#267: Zappa (a Clerihew)

One of my heroes, Frank Zappa, would never put up with this kind of crappa. He’d be rocking the vote and on to attacking to send all these idiot bastard sons packing.

We watched the four houses across the street destroyed for thirty-two new buildings, the surrounding trees and plants and invisible creatures unearthed for new buildings. In our old neighborhood, across that street, an outpatient hospital was demolished to make way for an entire block of townhomes, bringing new people into new buildings. This has beenContinue reading “#266: New Buildings–A Ghazal”

#265: Thirty Days, Day Twelve, Day Four, Day Two

Lately, I’ve found that my days are numbered. I find myself counting: Twelve days of the month with twelve poems, easy to say, more difficult to do, and yet, I remain committed, have been committed, to the challenge of doing this every day for 30 days. Today is day four of another challenge that, coincidentally coincides andContinue reading “#265: Thirty Days, Day Twelve, Day Four, Day Two”

#264: to be anywhereish

(a bop inspired by e.e. cummings) to be anywhereish and everywhereish all at once is to be at the mercy of somewhereishness, and that’s a huge, unmindfulish problem. someplace else is really no place and you wander about sheepfully looking for anywhere but where you are in the nano of the moment. time is not onContinue reading “#264: to be anywhereish”

#263: A Parent Paints a Portrait of Her Daughter for the Teacher

She came in after school for a conference about her daughter. She wanted to paint a picture; She wanted this teacher to know her child in some of the ways that only a mother could know. So she started with the things she loved, hoping that it would be clear: She’s neat and tidy, myContinue reading “#263: A Parent Paints a Portrait of Her Daughter for the Teacher”

#262: Nine on Nine–For the Birds

Mother is pissed partly because the oncologist made an appointment without consulting her; they scheduled her too early in the morning so she just says, screw it, I’m not going to let them tell me. It’s also the breast cancer, the second time around, and the fall a week or so ago that gave her aContinue reading “#262: Nine on Nine–For the Birds”

#261: Picking Up Sticks

The assignment today from napowrimo was to try a poem with lots of repetition. I’ve been digging the suggestions. I think I’ve taken up the (optional) assignment every day. That’s been fortuitous. Here’s one about the yard work that follows a wind storm. Picking Up Sticks Today I am picking up sticks. Here’s a stickContinue reading “#261: Picking Up Sticks”

#260: On Fortuitousness

“There is special providence in the fall of a sparrow.”–Hamlet That broken tree branch swinging in strong wind, caught by the branches of another tree ready and cocked for catapult toward the truck in the driveway, finally let loose and fell. It missed the truck by just a few short feet. But a duck was hitContinue reading “#260: On Fortuitousness”

#259: Thirteen Views of Listening to A Song

I With my eyes closed, the lyrics become more vivid– like icicles in my fingers. II Bouncing up and down on a pogo stick, the drummer has all of my limbs and I have hers. III I watch that wave come up, a shimmering, a crescendo: some nonsense makes me cry a little. IV A man and a womanContinue reading “#259: Thirteen Views of Listening to A Song”

#258: Waiting for the Leaves

(after Mary Oliver) I’m sitting in the office space that adjoins my classroom while my student teacher is wrangling with a group of freshmen, and I am thinking about my oak trees. In this stark, small, white room, lit with florescent tube lights, desk littered with papers, student work to grade, a stack of booksContinue reading “#258: Waiting for the Leaves”