National Poetry Month
2017 Sprinkle of
Napkin-Pocket Poems
Poems will be added throughout
the month of April
To Celebrate National Poetry Month in April
Sprinkle your pocket
poems all over the land,
in library books, in cafes,
on buses, in church, at the office, on trains, planes, attached to your email, anywhere you can tuck a poem to be found.
What are pocket poems? Short-short poems that
fit on a scrap of paper, a napkin, or cut in squares, small enough to fit in a pocket.
Email me your best short pocket poem, and I will
share them on our website for the month of April.
lillypressrpj@aol.com
National Poetry Month
is a month-long, national celebration of poetry established by the
Academy of American
Poets. The concept is to widen the attention of individuals and the media—to the art of
poetry, to living poets,
to our complex poetic heritage, and to poetry books and journals of
wide aesthetic range
and concern.
Poets' Quotes
“Be certain that the inescapable…the brilliant bitter irony that "National Poetry Month" begins on April Fool's Day is not lost on this benevolent fool. I imagine, and if I listen just close enough, I hear a shared chuckle: Chaucer, Shakespeare & Plato perhaps ...
Guilty as charged.”
I remain,
A Merry Prankster in deeds
John J. McKenna
Lullaby
Sleep reaches for me
with its sweet claws, ready
to lift me out of this
heavy reality, like a griffin,
to carry me over the roofs
of mercy.
Life, with your grimy
talons, I love you still.
Goodnight.
—Beate Sigriddaughter
Hell
It used to be you had to sign
a contract with the devil
before he could make off
with your soul. This seems
to have changed.
—Beate Sigriddaughter
The River
Here, take this caress, breathe in
this juniper scented mist, and remember
the river does not flow because it is loved.
—Beate Sigriddaughter
Cheating
I can turn over
A new leaf if I have an
Oak tree beside me.
—Iris N. Schwartz
4 Lunes while on a weekend get-a-way
a late blooming day
the sun stalls
advances slowly
a lone man beach walks
his hat drawn
I wave from above
two daughters and I
munch and chirp
birds on vacation
cruise on the river
dolphin fins
spin in the water
—Judith A. Lawrence
Seasonal
Pears hang
like amber tears,
heavy, ready to drop,
on the motherly lawn of summer.
—Iris N. Schwartz
Fruitful
I aspire to the crisp simplicity
Of an apple in October:
Child-fist small,
Equal parts sweet, tart,
Snap. Rubicund dappled
With palest gold.
Promise of autumn:
Grown. Plucked. Eaten.
Achieved.
—Iris N. Schwartz
Feeling Blue
Questions with no answers
broken heart with no cure
battle with no victory
loneliness with no end
what more is there to say?
—Bruce Majors
Old Songs
Nothing ever dies
it only changes
into something else
like old songs
that blow gently
into new ears
to find new meanings
—Nalini Priyadarshni
Applecart by Judith A. lawrence
Kintsugi
I have only just begun to fathom
those cracks and tears in me
and what kintsugi we make
when your love seeps into them
—Nalini Priyadarshni
Dream
I hold you in the hollow of my palms
like one holds a murmuring dream
that grows virile on moonless nights
and rides into dawn on sleepless lids
—Nalini Priyadarshni
Craft
One part of herself she kept close,
Gave to none.
These strands she crocheted
Into doilies of lace,
Joining circles looped white
Fingers quick
In the slow waiting days.
— Emily Leider
Ghosts of Many
In the city controlled by the tyrant's might,
every fourth of June when the sky is moon bright,
the ghosts of many march in Tiananmen Square,
and in death, as in life, cry out in despair.
—Frank Zahn
Process
The reactive life
of a troubled soul
bogs down in process
and precludes its goals.
—Frank Zahn
Desire
Years aloft like Sooty Terns
A poets words desire
To land upon a nesting ground
Where untold sonnets may inspire
—Theresa Loder
Ride
They straddle their shiny iron horses
Decked out in leather and trim
Some older than dirt but still love to flirt
With the freedom the ride always gives
—Theresa Loder
Cloudy Day by Judith A. Lawrence
Full Bloom by Judith A. Lawrence
Quake
Full moon reveals clouds
endlessly scuttling across
the sky
At times heavily
they fall into valleys of
this night
Obscuring mountains,
the Virgin & sleeping homes
& deep within this silence
a crack formswith a joltof Pachamama
—Lorraine Caputo
Watery
From the corners of time
my mind’s watery frame
willing to take in/absorb
any old thing
you toss my way:
Gently please.
—Susan Tepper
Doors
Overnight the place had changed
Dramatically –
Long halls dingy with dust and
the low light of decay.
I searched all the doors for
your name coming up blank.
You never warned me.
—Susan Tepper
Static
the man across the street
bought a Hamm radio last week.
he now talks to a friend in Finland
I hear he has another friend in Singapore.
I wonder when he's going to talk
to his neighbor next door.
—Mark Antony Rossi
Salto Bosetti (Iguazú)
Like liquid milky
quartz & topaz, the water
rushes, tumbles through
this emerald jungle, its
mist living slivers of pearls
glittering under
celeste-turquoise sky inset
with brilliant citrine
—Lorraine Caputo
Two Petals
Two petals fallen
from a white rose rock in the
breeze of this cool night
—Lorraine Caputo
Patience
I have never been bereft of joy
sometimes
misery gathers me into her
like a rain cloud does the river
while in the stormy grey
I sing songs in praise of solitude
for I have learned
I am too heavy to hold for long
torrential release is certain
—Priscilla McGreer
The note
On the napkin
the number I called
change my whole life
love, married, children, house
and then the divorce
all because
of the number I called
—Mathias Jansson
Not So Famous Fables- 2
An oldish man in
dark, dark trousers
sits on the flour frosted chair
near the tandoor,
lights a hand-roll.
Those cool bells
of temple tolls
for him. For him.
—Kushal Poddar
a scanty feast
my heart grew cool
like a pie in the window
and hardened for division
a fraction owed
a portion taken
a sliver saved
to gnaw on
lonely days
—Priscilla McGreer
Rabbit
Bend the spoon
you will choke
trying to eat.
This obsession with magic.
I suggest a rabbit
out of a hat
which you reject
stating emphatically: I’m vegan.
—Susan Tepper
WikiLeak
I never see you.
Last week you popped up
in a vivid dream.
It must have been
a happy one because
I woke up smiling.
Though Wiki tells otherwise.
—Susan Tepper
Not So Famous Fables- 1
I ask every cab
to take me to the city's heart.
Drivers have
different directions.
Oh your love!
City grew too many organs
to contain its red.
—Kushal Poddar
Light Is My Partner
A pigeon moans
as a finger of sun
strokes its feathers.
Through the sieves of my hand
your body of light.
—Kushal Poddar
Sail Boat by Judith A. Lawrence
Zen
I sit with crossed legs
beneath the shade of a tree
and vanish
in my shadow
which can’t be seen
—Llewellyn McKernan
The Art
of poetry
is the heart
of earth
—Llewellyn McKernan
A Poem
is written
by one pen
but many hands
—Llewellyn McKernan
Nothing
is more patient
than a tree
waiting for the wind
to blow
—Llewellyn McKernan
Genie Bottle
The pond’s bottom is full and round,
its neck long and tapered
corked with violet
water hyacinth.
Below the ripples, nymphs dream
of becoming dragonflies.
Silver fog mists over the pond
to grant the day’s wishes.
—Cheryl A. Van Beek
Rain Chimes
A squall turns the hibiscus
upside down, into a bell,
makes its stamen a striker,
chiming softly
to the rhythm of rain.
Its petaled lips peal,
spilling secrets in the grass.
—Cheryl A. Van Beek
King Anhinga
Their sun is cloaked by his approach.
When he lands at the pond
twelve turtles turn their heads,
crane their necks to see
crystal prisms drip from the fan
of his black feather cape.
—Cheryl A. Van Beek
Heart on Their Sleeves
Heart shaped, bitten-lip red,
strawberries taste of candy tang,
childhood summers
and teenage lip-gloss.
They pucker with seeds
they show off like jewelry.
—Cheryl A. Van Beek
waking from strange dreams
the images linger on
follow through the day
—Judith A. Lawrence
Skies weep for the end of worlds,
but no, not today, not today,
the crow cries three times three,
decries "It's only rain."
—Rose Aiello Morales - 2017
Those Shackles
In the morning vagueness
father shackles his favourite tree,
gifts it a fence bracelet.
And freedom doesn't go anywhere.
It knows the power of staying.
Father! I whisper. Let's go.
He hears me not. His ears are full of chirping.
—Kushal Poddar
What We Dream About
When we do dream
are children with
normal bellies
who’ve eaten their fair share.
—Susan Tepper
Morning sweeps
a sidewalk.
Rustles seek a pocket.
Untimely rain
covers a grave
and fences build a fort.
—Sana Tamreen Mohammed
Dreaming in a Poppy Field by Judith A. Lawrence
Sky lantern
From far,
the sky lantern appears
as a speck of fire
that rises up to the night sky.
Next morning,
you find them gone.
The spark, the stars, the dream.
—Sana Tamreen Mohammed
Everybody Needs A Home
There is a trail in the wood
that meets a road
that meets the trail.
And so I run through sunsets
howling into nights.
—Sana Tamreen Mohammed
Waking
The future rises
like dawn from a husk of darkness.
And the light is a low wattage bulb.
Somewhere a rooster unpacks sleep
from the trunk of its voice.
We wake, yawn with all of our past tomorrows
tumbling from our breaths, mistake them for morning.
—Loretta Diane Walker
Poetry
Wind favors dance
The corners of my mind
Plucked at the crossroads
Some for the very first time
Wind favors dance
Along the page
To find a place
Then to rearrange
Wind favors awakened
In that dark silent place
Crocheted to perfection
Like a piece of table lace
Theresa Loder
Night Ritual
The horizon is a wall.
Each night the moon pole vaults over it.
Each night the stars tell it you can’t.
The wind turns its head.
A mesquite opens its muted mouth
while darkness swabs its dry throat.
—Loretta Diane Walker
Invitation to a Poem
