Scribblage from my journal: round 27, weeks 2 & 3

Weather

Whether or not you approve of me

is not irrelative.
Or is it irrelevant?

I like to be liked.

Just like any other mammal.

Are all mammals group species?

What about sloths?

Do I have an expertise?

Not one that I can authoritatively share.

I really hate the current cultural-political

environment.

I have never liked election years.

Since Trump's election, it's been
a never-ending election year--
years
of campaigning.

Th, 10/17/19
Week 2. Round 27.

~*~*~*~

Howl

Deep dark trunk and limbs.
Black. Rugged. Strong.
Rough skin. Bumps. Tiny ledges.

Over which ants crawl
Raccoon and bear climb
Inchworms, beetles, and caterpillars
Nests of birds and squirrels

Golden crown rustles in autumn.

Music, not of windchimes
But rather, wildness
Echoing 'cross the valleys and peaks

And then, your shimmering golden hands--

upon your tiny wrists
that rests on branches
that rests on limbs
attached to your dark trunk--

Your golden hands

Fall
Like giant snowflakes
To rot and feed the soil

Then you are naked against the elements.

And your song
For a season
Is a howl

Su, 10/27/19.
Week 3. Round 27.

Scribblage from my journal: round 26, weeks 9 & 12

*~*~*~

Irony

I wish I could think deeply,

like I used to.

But poetry isn't about thinking deeply;

poetry is feeling deeply.

It is ironic the word "irony" has "iron" in it.

Is it because hot iron melts?

Because it bends?

Irony is bent.

Sa, 9/14/19
Week 9. Round 26.

*~*~*~

Eyes Are Everywhere

It's such a crazy world.
And then,
there is
my life
in Velcro.

I have felt the eyes upon me.
I no longer care how odd I might look.
I really no longer care.

I don't understand how someone can have a migraine and still work.
Maybe mine are a mix of
migraine,
nerve damage,
and hormone dump.

I wonder if I can read this later.

I am a goldfish swimming for the rainbow.
M, 9/30/19
Week 12. Round 26.