Two days ago, I gave up on my quest to write a poem a day in April, and yesterday, I turned 39.

It’s only right after the weekend I had that I should admit defeat. I mean, the weather in southern Maryland was downright perfect, the drinks were steadily flowing, and the number one derby team in the country kicked some serious butt with me watching. How can I top any of that with a poem on Monday and a birthday on Tuesday? Nope, I can’t.

Might as well lay down and die now.

I know I promised myself I would write three poems while I was traveling this weekend, but I really didn’t do it…nothing for Friday, half a poem for Saturday, but I do have a poem for Sunday because the challenge from dash30dash was easy. Here is my senryu:

Woman behind me
Bumps three times in five minutes
I feel slightly used.

Geez, I still have to come up with something today. It looks like this experiment is going down the tubes.

I actually used a poetry challenge today from a Twitter follower. Yes, in a roundabout way, but floating makes me think of my most favorite place in the whole world, the Guadalupe.

My Favorite Place to Be

The river has a power like none other,
Some might say a healing or an invigorating power.
It restores.
The river forgives the sins of youth,
Those who use the river in fun and games.
It washes away.
When the river destroys,
No one can blame it for its character or personality.
It lives.
There are times on the river,
Your world stops spinning and your reality…
It suspends.

Heads up to me and whoever is keeping score…I will probably post the poems from the next three days on Monday. I do promise to write even though I won’t be able to post.

A week to celebrate something special to me
And I forget,
Much like I put the label away.

The obligation to make it up burdens me
So I visit,
Much like going home.

A ridiculous notion expects me to recognize
Then I question,
Much like second guessing myself.

The degree forces me to be an advocate
But I rebel,
Much like I have from the start.

Good Lord, inspiration comes from the strangest places…a Facebook message, in this case.

I laugh
When I talk to old flames
About all the things they’ve missed since we parted ways.
There isn’t another like me.

I can tell
When they ask how I am
They really want to know if I’m happy where I am.
Like I’m going to admit that.

I think
Sometimes of my life
And how it could have been different if I wouldn’t have tried.
I have no regrets.

I read once about a pond teeming with life
But I wondered about that pond surrounded by concrete.

So I walked around the pond throughout the year
And I steered clear of the ducks sitting on nests of eggs,
I dropped bread for the tadpoles waiting for morsels from the sky,
I stepped toward the turtles darting from the bank at every threat,
I tuned into the grasses swaying in the faintest breath of wind.

Then I made my way back to the skyscraper
And I checked my messages,
I accepted a meeting request,
I replenished my water bottle,
I wrote a poem.

So I forgot to write a poem on Easter…does that really make me a failure? To make up for it, I did a quick revise on the RePoWriMo thing…

She is not broken by the distance
When pain can be a smile in your heart.
Sing a refrain of grace.

How kind am I to go on honor
If my passion never has enough fire?
Want true love forever.

So sure we always do & from it
Our virtue.

I think one of the words fell off the fridge, and I couldn’t find it this morning. Words I did not use: As I have you, he are me…adieu. A poem in itself, no? No, I still owe another one for today. I don’t know if I am going to complete this challenge or not, especially with a weekend party trip coming up.

I used to be a lot more religious than I am now. That’s something my friends and family didn’t even know, now or then. I went to a Christian school, and even there, it wasn’t totally cool to profess your love for God. So I kept it to myself mostly. I’m usually good at masking my emotions.

But something about my religion hits me way down deep in my heart…something I hinted at in “yesterday’s” poem…it’s not often I can sit through a service without tearing up, just like I did last night. Yes, I still have faith, but sometimes it’s hard for me to live a true Christian life, especially when I think of some of the horrible, and I do mean horrible, sins I committed when I did turn my back on my religion. So to reassure myself, I’m digging into the proof of my walk with God from yesteryear, my senior year of high school, to be exact. Another NaPoWriMo cheat…

Sheltered by Love

On coldest nights
When the stars give no light
And I still have so far to go,
I look to the sky
To find a reason why
An answer I have yet to know.

So shortly I have lived
With the love Jesus gives
That I really can’t understand.
Still I know I believe
That my soul my Lord keeps
And my heart’s in the palm of His hand.

So I told myself I was going to post a poem about the events of the evening,
Most importantly, describe the raw emotion I felt in the special service for Good Friday
But then I heed the call to head to a bar at an opportune moment.

I have the words in my head
But can’t bear to voice the hypocrisy during this Holy Week.

Please accept my apologies for a pitiful lack of poetic talent or
My inability to distance myself from the situation enough to write constructively.
I’ll try to behave over the weekend and focus on what’s right.

No explanation necessary.

We all reach a point in our lives when each day becomes monotonous.
Wake up
Work
Watch tv
Rerun.

At that point we find the moments for which we live.
Afternoon meeting close to home
Using the driving excuse
Logging on to play instead of work
Seeing a smile when surprising a child.

Those moments make life more tolerable.
Anticipation
Stealthiness
Excitement
Happiness!