two poems a day – Page 2

#520: A Sonnet in Response to Anthony Fantano’s Review of “The Tortured Poets Department” by Taylor Swift, Written in the Second Person, in Service of the Concluding Couplet, and Not to Hide the Fact that I Liked the Record

You try not to be influenced by him;he’s smart, knowledgeable, a bit verbose, but often he’s critical of things you like,and mostly, mostly, you’re okay with that. But his bad review of the new Tay Tay made you doubt your own sense of what is good, made you think you had drunk of the Kool-Aid.HisContinue reading “#520: A Sonnet in Response to Anthony Fantano’s Review of “The Tortured Poets Department” by Taylor Swift, Written in the Second Person, in Service of the Concluding Couplet, and Not to Hide the Fact that I Liked the Record”

#519: I am not waving, but drowning

(after Stevie Smith) I am not waving, but drowning, and youkeep waving, like an idiot savant,when all I need now is a rescue line, a rope, a tube, anything that will float.Don’t you walk away; I’m not quite dead yet, the water has not yet entered my lungsand I am still gasping my last breathswhileContinue reading “#519: I am not waving, but drowning”

#518: Sonnet After Beers, with Laundry

The washer and the dryer now sing songswhen the cycle is done, and I don’t knowwhy that was a necessary feature, as if it’s not enough to hear them stop. I’m doing laundry in the basement nowafter having had a few I.P.A.sand exhausted late night YouTube views ofcomedy shows and the most recent newsall concerningContinue reading “#518: Sonnet After Beers, with Laundry”

#516: It’s a Fight

Author’s Note: This could be the stupidest thing I have ever written. Here’s a poem in response to the prompt to write about a fight between two unlikely combatants. This is what comes, sometimes, of forced creativity. You must write something, even if it’s terrible. In this corner, weighing hardly a quarter of a pound,Continue reading “#516: It’s a Fight”

#515: There’s No Better Place

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. William Shakespeare, sonnet 18 My brother says that our brother in-lawis in a better place, but I hold in my tongueand resist to say out loud what I believe, that there is no better place, unlessContinue reading “#515: There’s No Better Place”

#512: 40 Poems Down

April they say, is the cruellest month–actually that’s what T.S. Eliot says, or wrote; he’s dead now, of course. But he probably didn’t know that at some point, his line would inspire someone somewhere to declare April as ourNational Poetry Month, which is onlycruel when you consider the poorsuckers who decide to write a poemeveryContinue reading “#512: 40 Poems Down”

#511: The Missing Purse

I was out last night to see some friends play music and I was standingat a bar facing the stage for optimumviewing and listening and there was this couple standing next to mewho at one point asked me if I couldsave their places for them. They were only gone for about fouror five minutes butContinue reading “#511: The Missing Purse”

#508: I watch my son play the snare drum…

At home here in Milwaukie, Oregon,I watch my son play the snare drum; he’s inDayton, Ohio for the Winter GuardInternational World Championshipand I’m watching on a tiny iPhone in the green back yard with the two tired dogs.His mother, my wife, has coached this young groupof musicians to regional championsand now she’s taken my sonContinue reading “#508: I watch my son play the snare drum…”

#504: A Sonnet for Taylor Swift

I listened to a story today on my news app about how some friendships areending over Taylor Swift and I laughed. It’s not a real friendship if, really, that’sthe only sticking point between the pals. I like her. I love her. I mean, I like her music (honestly, not always), but I love her humanity, I admire hergumption and humorContinue reading “#504: A Sonnet for Taylor Swift”

#491: Some days you just don’t want to write . . .

I Some days you just don’t want to write. You get up and you try to meditate,but something is wrong with your dog and sheis harassing you non-stop while you sitand you find yourself angry, cursing inbetween deep breaths in and out. And the promptfor today is uninspiring, the list of brainstorms you made for sonnets runsContinue reading “#491: Some days you just don’t want to write . . .”