poem-a-day challenge: totally empty

For today’s prompt, take the phrase “Total (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Possible titles could include: “Total Madness,” “Total Victory,” “Totally Awesome,” and/or “Total Cereal.” — Robert Lee Brewer, Writer’s Digest

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totally empty

ok not really
actually I think I am coping OK
but there are moments
I feel totally empty

I can’t go to work
and now sleeping’s off-schedule

not allowed to see my mom:
all visitors prohibited
to keep the community healthy

my kid can’t come home
because dad sees patients with COVID19
so it’s safer for us to stay isolated

I comment on Facebook,
visit friends on Zoom
take a nap when I need it
read when my attention span allows
bake and sew like a century ago

and the days go by
inexorably closer to
whatever happens next

so much to take in
but still

totally empty

poem-a-day challenge: hanging my hopes on pollen

For today’s prompt, write a nature poem. Could be nature like trees, leaves, grass, birds, etc. Or your poem could tackle human nature. Another possibility is to look at the nature of technology or the interaction of planets around each other and the sun. Or well, the nature of poetry! When in doubt, just see what happens naturally. — Robert Lee Brewer, Writer’s Digest

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pollen counts

I hope it was the pollen
the counts were high
when we ate dinner out on the deck
Wednesday night

False color scanning electron microscope image of pollen grains from a variety of common plants: sunflower, morning glory, prairie hollyhock, oriental lily, evening primrose and castor bean.

Image: © Public domain image (created by the Dartmouth Electron Microscope Facility)

now it’s Friday
and I woke up Thursday
with one eye crusted shut
and my throat scratchy and sore

so far there’s no fever,
so maybe it’s not corona.
I haven’t been anywhere at all
for over a week,
but my husband works in health care
and is bound to be exposed,
maybe has been already

I guess I’m about 50/50
that it could be the virus.
Some moments I’m just sure,
of course that’s what it is,
and others, I think, nah,
it must be a false alarm.

we are prepared as we could be
and so now we just wait

if symptoms increase, I’ll go for testing
because William has to know
so he won’t put his patients at risk

time ticks by
I ask myself if I feel better or worse
this hour than the last

I feel tired.
But is it because I woke up in the middle of the night?
Or stress in general?
Or is it fatigue, another sign?

I’ve got to keep my mind busy
or I’ll spiral down into
the what-ifs
and all possible bad outcomes

these are my thoughts
as I’m alone in my head
socially distanced
careful and cautious

that maybe it’s come for me anyway
I’m probably fine
time will tell.

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I was pretty confident that I had something besides COVID-19 until my husband told me that in fact some cases had presented with pinkeye as an early symptom. I’m trying to remain upbeat about it, since I still don’t have a fever and haven’t been in contact with anyone outside my household in more than a week. But on the other hand, why not me? I could have picked it up last Thursday at the grocery store. Or it could have outmaneuvered William’s attempts to decontaminate every night when he came home from working at the hospital those seven days in a row last week. Like I said, the arguments in my head are going about 50/50 that it makes sense I have it and it makes sense I don’t. All I can do is wait.

two poem Tuesday: love and anti-love

We’re three weeks into the challenge now, which means “Two-for-Tuesday” day today. This is the one I break out every challenge (alumni know which one I’m talking about).

For today’s prompt:

1. Write a love poem and/or…

2. Write an anti-love poem. Because some folks just aren’t that into love poems.

Remember: These prompts are just springboards; you have the freedom to jump in any direction you want. In other words, it’s more important to write a new poem than to stick to the prompt. — Robert Lee Brewer, Writer’s Digest

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I haven’t written two poems on either of the previous Tuesdays this month. I’ll try today to write both instead of choosing one.

anti-love

There’s an ugly wound
on my soul
from the blunt force trauma
of losing a child to suicide

It’s the kind of thing
you always hide
in polite company
and even now
I hesitate
to say any more,
to tell the thing I came to tell.

The wound gives me thoughts
that should not be expressed
There’s a tiny voice I suppress
— would never say out loud —
every time I hear the news
someone is expecting.

I’m so happy for you!
Children are such a blessing.
But the wound whispers darkly
so only I can hear,
”I hope they don’t grow up to break your heart.”

love

it was love
that wrought
my devastation

— anyone
who has lost someone
understands —

and love
has been the only thing
to begin to revive
the damaged parts of me

a paradox:
that which harms also heals
somehow the seed of my destruction
yet is the source of my redemption

such power

I want to wield it well

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So one thing about these poetry exercises is that they’re not all successful. I don’t wrap it up every day thrilled with what I’ve written. Maybe I come back and do some revisions. Every first effort could be improved with some additional attention. Or maybe I call it good enough and move on.

These days, so much depends on the energy I have. Am I fighting just to get through another day of self isolation without alienating the people I love? Yesterday I was so grouchy. Everything seemed bleak, and it was hard not to take it out on my husband, who is the only other person in my household right now. And he’s working — although things are weird, he still gets to leave the house and see people and maintain whatever sense of normalcy is possible under the extraordinary conditions of life at this moment.

So today’s poems, I don’t think they’re so great. But, as with every attempt at poetry, they did give me the opportunity to take some stuff that was inside of me and express it outwardly, and in some sense, let it go. So that’s always a positive.

national poetry month kicks off — it's a new world

April is National Poetry Month! This gorgeous commemorative poster is from poets.org by student poster contest winner Samantha Aikman, based on the poem “Remember” by U.S. Poet Laureate Joy Harjo.
✏️
So 2020 will be my third year celebrating by writing a poem a day based on prompts from Robert Lee Brewer, senior editor with Writer's Digest. Today’s prompt was to write a new world poem.
✏️
Trees burst into leaf
Seemingly overnight
At the very moment of the equinox
Early on the calendar because of leap year
•
Birds are singing their heads off
Building nests
Including in places we don’t want them
Laying eggs there in the bush by the front doorway
Did I scare them away when I got a step stool and looked in the nest?
I didn’t mean for them to abandon their eggs
I could have used a different door
To leave the house for a while
It’s not as if I’m leaving the house much
Anyway
•
Parts of nature are
Proceeding as usual
And then parts of nature
Are doing things they’ve never done
And I don’t know how to feel about it
And I don’t know what to do about it
•
So I stay home
And I wash hands
And I sew masks
And I try not to dwell
On the fact that every day
My other half
Goes to his “essential” job
Where some days he’s at his office
Mostly seeing patients by telehealth,
But others, like today, he’s at the hospital
And we are pretty sure
That one day, maybe even today,
He’ll come home with this virus
And I’ll get it too
•
So we don’t see our moms
And our kid stays away at school
And we hope for the best
•
And in some ways I wish
That we could just have it and get it over with,
But it might hit us hard
Even though we are youngish and healthy
•
The world has never seen this before
And you just never know
•
You never know
❤️
💙
💛

Also I wanted to add that the "new world poem" prompt made me think of a song I love by Cass Elliot of the Mamas and the Papas. It's a song that feels very optimistic to me. Check it out here. And while I was looking for that, I found a version from a year later by Nina Simone, still beautiful, but much more apocalyptic in tone. Do yourself a favor and listen to both. Which resonates more with you?