Since April is National Poetry Month, I couldn’t let the month pass without sharing one of my new creations and loves–a prose poem. Here is one I wrote this spring:
Questions My Children Ask
When can I have an allowance? Will you unlock the computer so I can play? How come you get to be on your phone whenever you want but I have a timer on the iPad? Do you listen to me when I talk to you? What did I just say?
Can we get clothes from a real store and not a thrift shop? How do these jeans look? Are my thighs too big? Should I wear my cream Uggs or my black Converse? Or could you get me some Dr. Martens? Can I cut my hair? Highlight it? Dye it purple?
Why do you make this gross food for dinner? Don’t you know we hate lasagna? Asparagus, again? What is this green stuff? Peas or peppers? Why is it good for me to eat food I don’t like? I’m going to go play with Cain, okay?
Can we have a dance party? A game night? A movie night with popcorn? Will you make French fries again? Sweet chicky nuggets? Cheese pizza?
Will you read Corduroy to me? Skippyjon Jones? Tuck me in? Kiss me goodnight? Can we cuddle? Will you stay with me? What does “especially” mean?
Why do I feel like this —blech one moment, ecstatic the next? Am I just hormonal? Did you feel like this when you were my age?
Is this normal? Am I normal? What does sex feel like?
Why did you marry Dad? Do you still love him, even when you fight?
They cut her whole breast off? What does she look like now? Will she lose her hair? Will she die?
Will you die? Will I?
How do you know everything will be okay?
When I die, will you paint me
Eyes set forward, without tears for Ethan’s cancer at age six (he was here oh-so-briefly)
Brow long and high, not with wrinkles borne of worry for
Kaitlin’s solo, Jonathan’s baseball championship, and later
Kaitlin’s failing marriage, Jonathan’s lost job, and even later
Burying Jim after thirty-six years of happily and not-so-happily
Will you paint me innocent? Free from fear?
Yet I look in the mirror at my
Hands once delicately fingering a piano, rolling a cookie, painting a homecoming poster
And I wonder
If each mark of age represents an
Would I trade it all back for a young face, thick hair, and soft hands?
Street lamps burn white holes into
The darkest of night’s skies.
People still walk
Along the paved grey concrete stripes
Past shops that closed hours (or days) ago
Past squares of green and colors
Past homeless artists up past their bedtimes
They are singing songs that were popular decades ago….
Young couples share their first kisses, while
More seasoned couples smile to remember, and
Musicians wander the streets
Along with starving writers
Searching for inspiration, for a voice
One decides that we are all searching for
In a senseless world
Where aesthetics are lost
In a land of stoicism
A poet weeps
Barely standing in the shadow
Of a street light
Yet he emits his own light
Through his learning and observations
And so the evening isn’t a loss after all.
Honestly, I’ve been ready for April since the beginning of March (though March was a fabulous month by itself)…I’ve been anxious for warmer temps, Spring Break, a certain little guy’s birthday, and National Poetry Month!!!! (For some NPM FAQs, click here.)
Hooray for APRIL!!!
If you celebrate April Fool’s Day, I wish you well in that endeavor also. 🙂
This month on the blog, I am planning to share some blast from the past poetry by yours truly (I haven’t written poetry in what feels like ages since I’ve gotten really serious about fiction writing) along with some of my fav poems or info on poets I enjoy reading.
And, I’m looking forward to some Spoken Word (or Performance) Poetry, as well (Sarah Kay, anyone?)…so, Happy National Poetry Month!!!! I hope you will help me celebrate April in some way. 🙂 Do you have favorite poets? Have you been to a poetry reading or slam? Do you love poetry like I do?