I think we all need to hear something like this now.
Poem: The Madmen
I think we all need to hear something like this now.
Author Archives: Michelle Garren-Flye
Poem: Unglued
I’ve never used the haiku to springboard a different type of poem than a sonnet…until now. This is more freeform, or at least, it took on a form of its own. (Unless this type of poetry already has a name?) Anyway, I couldn’t pin this one into a sonnet format. It’s a bit more sprawling.
alabaster white
pottery shards strewn about
just flower petals
Unglued
By Michelle Garren-Flye
Seeing white shards among the green grass
I pause to remember shattered china
on the strange orange floor of the kitchen,
no sooner broken than regretted,
gathered up and pieced back together with glue.
But these are just magnolia petals
dropped carelessly from an angelic bloom
to the peace of the smooth emerald below,
and the tree has no regrets, emits no sighs,
but stands tall, rich in nonchalance.
Maybe it’s time to throw out the glue
and mow the broken scraps under
so I can grow something new.
Poem: Mother’s Day Petrarchan
Mother’s Day is a day of mixed feelings for me. I have kids who can’t always be with me all day on Mother’s Day anymore because, guess what?, if you raise your kids right, they go off and get jobs and significant others (who inconveniently also have mothers) (that’s a joke), and sometimes even homes of their own. I am fortunate to have three wonderful children who all love me and who all take the time to wish me a happy Mother’s Day, whether they are with me or not. I am proud of them and their accomplishments, even when I wish I could spend more time with them.
My own mother passed away in February two years ago. And I’m divorced, so, although I still care very much for my ex’s mother, I haven’t seen her, and communication is difficult. I went from having two mothers I celebrated to having memories of them, mostly.
On Mother’s Day, honor your mother. But also remember the motherless children and the childless mothers. In honor of all mothers and all children, I made an attempt at a Petrarchan sonnet. I’ve always found them difficult, and I’m far from certain I got it right.
Mother’s Day Petrarchan
By Michelle Garren-Flye
All the world seems full of scent and flower;
there is no thought of tears or sorrow here.
Have you ever seen the blue sky so clear?
Absolutely no chance of a shower.
Ease is an arboreous bower!
Spring is not the time for sadness, my dear;
please recognize this is the month for cheer,
and worship this time, adore each hour.
But...is this day not one of amity?
Remembrance can cast a dusky shadow…
although I think it’s mostly vanity.
I say this now with all due gravity:
A mother’s love is much more than most know;
Death cannot reduce its capacity.
This year, I decided to buy my mother roses. I have her picture in my bookstore, and I put the roses next to it. She was never able to visit my store but I know she would have loved it. So I keep her picture on a shelf and remember her every day. I know I am fortunate to have had a mother like her. One I want to remember.
National Poetry Month Day 30: Poem 30 Sonnet 15
And so it’s done. And it was really fun. A challenge indeed. Perhaps some rest I need.
Sonnet 15
Fashion Flash
Purple is the color this spring;
from coast to coast, it is the rage.
Don lavender attire when dressing—
perform a twirl as you take the stage.
Forget the pinks and greens of yesteryear;
cast off rose-colored raiment and robe.
Today’s tint is arrived, it’s here!
Making a mark all around the globe.
Try on every dress but discard each?
You can’t expect to become a violet
The iris, too, is beyond your reach.
Such finery, no, you can’t acquire it.
But…maybe it’s better not to pretend?
We can only be ourselves in the end.
National Poetry Month Day 29: Poem 29 Haiku 15
I started out this month wondering if I could do it.
Haiku 15
turn your face to sun
indigo star in my yard
purple radiance
National Poetry Month Day 28: Poem 28 Sonnet 14
Sonnet 14
Choosing the Battle
Wait if you will for the wind to blow
you from your stem into the world,
I refuse to believe I’m just for show,
though it’s easier to wait, arms unfurled
for the next breath to set me aflight.
Instead of struggling over the hilltops
to the crest of the mountain—always a fight—
just let the breeze carry me through raindrops.
But no, it’s my life, I must make my own way,
carry my own weight where I wish to go.
If I tamely wait here, I may fall prey
to lethargic languor and become too slow.
I will struggle on always though it is hard
and I may arrive at last, battered and scarred.
National Poetry Month Day 27: Poem 27 Haiku 14
Haiku 14
final flower peaks
flourishing among the dead
faith keeps it alive
National Poetry Month Day 26: Poem 26 Sonnet 13
Sonnet 13
Spring’s Mad Dance
Do you want to waltz with spring?
When everyone’s in their best dress
throw out your arms, embrace everything!
Let worries and fears go to rest!
Look here, the roses are blushing pink,
the shy daisy is showing his heart.
Bold azalea has awarded you a wink
and the dance has yet to start!
Sweet violet, won’t you stay by my side
when others crowd out on the floor?
You and I can find a place to hide;
I know I’d never ask for more.
In the midst of spring’s mad dance
let’s pause and give love a chance.
National Poetry Month Day 25: Poem 25 Haiku 13
Haiku 13
rose swirls gracefully
petals pink, precisely placed
a static samba
National Poetry Month, Day 24: Poem 24 Sonnet 12
Sonnet 12
To the Rain God
When I heard the rain last night
I longed to go out to greet it.
Wouldn’t that have been a sight:
me in my sweats, arms out to meet it?
Maybe I would have done a dance,
a little twirl or two of thankfulness,
for all the gifts the rain god grants:
the beauty pure and fabulous.
In the end, I didn’t go out at all,
I stayed tame and alone in my bed.
I have neighbors I don’t want to appall
when I get a weird notion in my head.
I’m sorry, rain god, if my thanks you seek—
but maybe next time I won’t be so meek.
BREATHE: Michelle Garren-Flye 