Both of my parents died, for starters. Not at once, of course, but within seven or eight years of one another. Daddy passed first and we watched him die, the whole family, a vigil in the meeting room of the nursing home where they sent him after a final, last ditch, unnecessary surgery where heContinue reading “#322: Sad Poem”
Tag Archives: National Poetry Writing Month
#321: The American English Teacher Receives a Note from the Benevolent Rabbit Society
My only wish is that they would have gone for something more alliterative: Benevolent Bunny sounds better and simultaneously more bouncy than Rabbit. But none of that overshadows the fact that, for the first time in my career as a public school teacher, I and a few of my colleagues have received a tip. ItContinue reading “#321: The American English Teacher Receives a Note from the Benevolent Rabbit Society”
#320: What Was the Question? That Is the Question
I’ve got no business on the moon. Looking for me once, somebody said, a famous poet, find me here, find me there, something about dirt and grass. I can get behind that. Who was it who said time waits for no man? Or time heals the wounds? Or, time is on my side, yes, itContinue reading “#320: What Was the Question? That Is the Question”
#319: How to Write a Poem Every Day
Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends called National Poetry Writing Month, or NaPoWriMo for short. Here is my first of 30 attempts, my seventh year in a row. The number 319 in my title, FYI, represents the number of poems I have published on the mighty blog, 180 of which wereContinue reading “#319: How to Write a Poem Every Day”
#316: Chakras and Chi Balls (the Last Poem of April)
Some people associate a rainbow of colors with various parts of their bodies and they ascribe certain powers or characteristics of their psycho-emotional life to these various colors or energies; Some people think you can concentrate on a color, say, orange, and a body place, say, your privates, and that somehow your relationships will beContinue reading “#316: Chakras and Chi Balls (the Last Poem of April)”
#315: On the Penultimate Day of April, the English Teacher in his Penultimate Year Writes a Long Rambling Poem Inspired by Sylvia Plath’s Burst of Productivity in the Months Before She Died
I’m not going anywhere, but (having lost now both mom and dad) I notice thoughts about mortality enter the noggin with more frequency these days. I’m reading, or rather, listening to Life Reimagined, where Barbara Bradley Hagerty argues essentially that there is really no such thing as a mid-life crisis for most mid-lifers. Much of thatContinue reading “#315: On the Penultimate Day of April, the English Teacher in his Penultimate Year Writes a Long Rambling Poem Inspired by Sylvia Plath’s Burst of Productivity in the Months Before She Died”
#314: To Whom It May Concern
To Whom It May Concern Wherever You Are City, State, Zip Code Hello to Whom, I think this may concern you. I’ve been thinking about you, lately more than usual, I guess, ever since the weather turned. There’s been a disturbance. It’s been too long. That thing people say on postcards: I wish you wereContinue reading “#314: To Whom It May Concern”
#313: The World Is Too Much All Up in Here
(my advance apologies to anyone serious about this stuff, and to Wordsworth) My world card tells me that I’ve got time in my pinky, a king on my ring, twenty one flip-off capacity, death in my forefinger, and a sun up my thumb. But I’ve got the whole world, as the song says, in myContinue reading “#313: The World Is Too Much All Up in Here”
#312: Senses Working Overtime
Unseasonably warm on this 26th of April, 86° in the shade, giving new meaning to “the cruelest month” moniker, and I’m biking home from work, still in work clothes, feeling myself try to crawl out of them, the sun beating down on my back as I pedal home. It’s a short ride, but long enough.Continue reading “#312: Senses Working Overtime”
#311: Warning
Do not fold, spindle, or mutilate anything in this room. This bag is not a toy. This thing right here: do not eat. Watch your step. If symptoms persist, consult your physician. I am out of band-aids. Men below, please don’t throw. Slow children. This hand sanitizer is flammable. Think about that for a minute.Continue reading “#311: Warning”
michael jarmer 