Day 5½: National Poetry Month
Earlier, I skipped Sunday’s “being so grumpy you hate everything,” prompt. But by 9:15 PM, I was channeling my inner to Darwin. “I hate myself, I hate clover, and I hate bees.”
That’s not the foundation of good poetry. I was reminded, last year, that one of the functions of poetry is to remind people what it is they’re fighting for, not just venting, protesting, or serving as the rallying cry for what they’re fighting against. I don’t want the poems I leave behind in the world to exude negativity.
But there is something relatably humorous in Charles Darwin’s occasional loathing of everything – he was clearly a man who loved everything enough to study it meticulously. The term “love-hate” didn’t enter the lexicon during Darwin’s lifetime, but it would seem to capture his feelings perfectly. He must have been tired and terribly frustrated when he wrote that.
Easter is an important holiday for Christians. But there was so much hypocrisy online, yesterday, that it was hard to appreciate the intended message. From Good Friday to Easter, I cannot help but think how lucky humanity is that I’m not God. Imagine “giving your only begotten son” as a sacrifice to wipe clean humanity’s sin, only to have them go forth and sin again and again and again – cheating, destroying, murdering, wasting, hoarding, depriving their fellow humans of life, liberty, and happiness – without remorse or contrition? I would not be so forgiving, but then again, I’m a mother – it took me nine months to birth a human and I didn’t do it for them to be killed or to kill another mother’s children. An omnipotent God could simply crush the planet and remake it in a week. Food for thought…
Embrace Mankind, or Shove ’em Off a Cliff?
In the morning, I would lift my voice
and call mankind to sing the sunrise —
weave it into rainbows, cotton-candy
clouds that stretch from shore to shore
and weep as they embrace us all.
By noon, I would lay a feast, inviting all
to rest and eat their fill – break bread
together, singing, “Kum ba yah”
communing with our maker. There is enough —
no need to stuff our pockets full for later.
By evening, I would say, “Look! There
sets the moon a silver streak, shimmering —”
They would lean in, pause their squabbling
for a moment… It would be so easy.
Waste not, want not. Amen.
Voracious fish are waiting patiently below;
with faith that there’s enough to go around.
Other National Poetry Month Posts
- National Poetry Month, Texas Style!
- Apricots: a Tanka Encompassing Three Prompts
- Bee Sting: Day 2 of National Poetry Month
- Cacophony and CBD: Day 3 in Nonsense Verse and Found Poetry
- Technically, a Writer: Day 3 of National Poetry Month
- Dive: Day 4 of National Poetry Month
- Storm Front: Day 4 of National Poetry Month
- Energized: Day 5 of National Poetry Month
- Grump: Day 5 ½ of National Poetry Month
- Future Frittered Away: Day 6 of National Poetry Month
- Hell, Hell, Hell: Day 7 (More or Less) of National Poetry Month
- Insomnia: Day 8 of National Poetry Month
- Juxtaposition: Day 9 of National Poetry Month
- Knife Edge: Day 10 of National Poetry Month
- Lost a Day: Day 11 of National Poetry Month
- Many Definitions: Day 12 of National Poetry Month
- New Form – Quadrille Quaiku: Day 13 of National Poetry Month
- Ode to Imagination: Day 14 of National Poetry Month
- Pixellated People: Day 15 of National Poetry Month
Your Turn!
What makes you grumpy? Have you ever tried writing it out in poem form? For me, it’s usually some form of dishonesty or hypocrisy.
Thank you for visiting and reading. I hope you’ll leave a comment – maybe even a poem – below.
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