Write Here, Write Now

Some Harryette Mullen quatrains to put in your pocket

Little gems for poem in your pocket day! 
 

moon, whoever knew you
had a high IQ until tonight
so high and mighty bright
poets salute you with haiku 

up from slobbery
hip hyperbole
the soles of black feet
beat down back streets

she gets to the getting place
without or with him
must I holler when
you’re giving me rhythm

use your noodle for
more than a hatrack
act like you get the sense
God gave a gopher 

no miss thing
ain’t exactly rude
just exercising
her right to bare attitude   

if I can’t have love
I’ll take sunshine
if I’m too plain for champagne
I’ll go float on red wine     

Ethiopian breakdown
underbelly tussle
lose the facts just keep the hustle
leave your fine-tooth comb at home      

restore lost nature
with hoodoo paraphernalia
get cured in Cuban by a charming
shaman in an urban turban

sister mystery listens
helps souls in misery
get to the square root
of evil and render it moot

cassava yucca taro dasheen
spicy yam okra vinegary greens
guave salt cod catfish ackee
fatmeat’s greasy that’s too easy

what makes tough muffins
put Juba on the back
Miz Mary takes a mack truck in
trade for his slick black cadillac

—-all excerpts from Muse & Drudge  (1995)  

Rules to Live By

1) Only really trust a book by its cover if a friend with ADHD recommends it.

2) Never answer the phone or check a text message when at dinner with a friend.

3) Children are smarter than us.

4) A sunset is not over until the red circle can be seen no more.

5) Slow down.

6) If you can’t find something, pick other things up.

7) Your sunglasses are on your head, that is why you can’t find them.

8) When a friend is telling a story, stop thinking about how to respond & just sit openly & listen.

9) Listen more. Listen to old people.

10) Get off the computer.

11) No, he’s not going to call.

12) Breakups are good for you.  

13)  Everything is better with garlic.

14) If you can’t put it into words, draw.

15) Eat meals with friends.

16) Wisely choose the people who support you. Support them more.

17) Don’t ask people how they’re doing unless you really want to know.

18) If something is funny, laugh, don’t say, “that’s really funny.”

19)  Smile more when doing anything.

20) Listen to others who hold different political beliefs or come from different cultures.

21) Find pretty pens that are fun to write with so you will write more.

22) Say thank you to those who deserve thanks. Write thank you notes. 

23) Go on more walks. Go outside.

24)  Eat from your own garden.

25) Compliment someone when you like something about them instead of being jealous about what you don’t have.

26) Write people letters and send them the old fashioned way.

27) Listen to music that makes you happy, even if it’s not cool.

28) Acknowledge when someone knows more about something than you and tell them you want to learn more.

29) Look up any words you come across that you don’t know. If you don’t have a dictionary on you, write them down and look later.

30) Study history from all angles.

31) Read placards at museums.

32) Go to sleep when you are tired.

33) If you set your alarm for something optional but fun early in the morning & you think you are too tired to get up—just try to get out of bed & brush your teeth & see if you feel up to it.

34) Floss.

35) Wear sunscreen.

36) Be happy with the sun & the moon.

37) Look at the stars.

38) Don’t get mad when others talk through movies—you have done that before.

39) Dance when music tells you to. Even just a shoulder shake.

40) If you don’t like it, quit. 

41) Tell your parents you love them.

42) Don’t measure your life in coffee spoons.

43) Celebrate the full moon.

44) Call friends who do not live close just to say hi & I love you.

45) Try to write songs. 

46) Sing in the shower. 

47) Learn something every day.

48) Always ask questions.

49) Be less defensive.

50) Argue less.

51) Only eat meat if you know where is it from.

52) Exercise for health, not to lose weight.

53) Ask older people to tell you stories.

54) Paint.

55) Make scrapbooks of your travels.

56) Admit when you are wrong.

57) Share. 

58) Don’t get mad at the waiter if your order is wrong.

59) Read great books (but if you don’t think they are great even though others say they are, that is okay).

60) Challenge yourself.

61) Criticize less. Celebrate more. 

62) Make breakfast.

63) Dress up for theme parties.

64) Take deep breaths.

65) Take spiders & other bugs outside in a bug-catcher cup instead of squishing them.

66) Dishonor no one.

67) Forgive.

68) If it’s homemade, there are no calories.

69) Get & give four hugs a day. That’s the minimum (not the maximum). 

70) Teach. 

St. Patrick’s Day Poem

Three bottles of Jameson, Bailey’s & strong

Irish whiskey; as many cases of Guinness.

Car Bombs with green plastic shot glasses,

leprechauns riding butterflies & everyone’s

verdant in their St. Paddy’s best: chests

are vested or suspendered in jade; emerald

dresses slip past green-socked calves

with stripes or polka dots, which trot

on black-vested girls with blond hair in pony

tails. Blarney! What stone good fun this all is—

in our part of the world where such days

of debauchery are lent to us. We slurp

these moments up & for a few hours forget

how many others wish they could drink too.  

Tuesday Morning Poem

I had breakfast with a four year old today

& it was the most fun. We talked about

orange blossoms becoming oranges

& bees & pollen & then I thought

of that preschool we worked at in college—

sunscreen screaming off monkey bars.

Then I thought about you & our house

& mimosas & summer, how we grew older

there, in that small pocket of days

snared in the spring of our lives. Then

I recalled that children’s center chant:

fall is when the leaves change colors. 

Leap Year Poem

Thirty days hath September,
April, June and November.
All the rest have thirty-one,
Excepting February alone,
And that has twenty-eight days clear
And twenty-nine in each leap year.

—Mother Goose 

Poetry, Decoded

I’m having a wonderful time reading Evie Shockley’s the new black, which I’m reviewing for a class, giving me a good excuse to fully immerse myself in her poetics. I keep my computer (internet) and dictionary handy while reading this book, because each poem is a world in itself: each line could be a history lesson, some psychology, or a moral order, but each poem is also part of one, great meaning. 

Below is one of her poems, with links to things I looked up after my first reading, which deeply add meaning to it upon second, third, or fourth read. It’s also just a lovely poem. 

love life, with stitches 

that’s how we are in bed: all body and
raw with desire. the self we’ve somehow patched
together is revealed, voila!, as hand-
iwork, unhandily done: covers snatched

back to expose ungraceful seams. we’re arms,
reaching past the one who’s holding us close
to touch another, whose flesh, in turn, warms
to what it can’t quite grasp. we’re our own foes:

januses, half-lost in longing or rank
nostalgia for some lover past or yet
to come—anyone but the one whose flank
is pressed against ours: one mouth tastes the wet

lips of yes, now, while our other mouth sighs
for an unsoft shoulder, unseeing eyes.  

—after louise bourgeois’s seven in bed