In Celebration of the Furniture Year By Michelle Garren-Flye
On that morning twenty-nine years ago, I wanted to be a princess so much I shouted my beliefs loud enough to drown lingering doubts
and stormy weather that took the helium right out of the balloons, so the wind sounded like Daffy Duck and my pink and yellow and blue spheres hung flaccid
by the sign announcing our nuptials, and it was too late for real daffodils, so I made do with false ones, mixed with daisies and mournful white roses
and still I have no regrets because for at least twenty-five of those years I did believe I was a princess, or at least as good as a mom of three who lost her figure in the war can be,
and I have been awarded all these badges for my courage, and my ambition now is to deserve them, which I do, much more than I did on that morning twenty-nine years ago.
Photo and poem copyright 2024 Michelle Garren-Flye
I originally had decided to write a blog post about finally re-watching the entire series of “Lost” because I always felt sure I missed a lot during my first watch of the show during six erratic television seasons. (I really had, too. No doubt, lots of stuff missed during that first viewing.) Then I happened to listen to a podcast about the ongoing war between the two rappers Kendrick Lamar and Drake, found I had an opinion about that, too, and that opinion actually developed into a poem, so, in the realm of Things I Have No Business Commenting On…
Being a fifty-plus-year-old white woman, I don’t really keep up with the hiphop/rap scene much, although I’ve undoubtedly heard some I like. The first I’d heard about the Drake/Lamar feud was a couple weeks ago in a chance remark from a friend. I was interested because Kendrick Lamar had actually achieved something I once wished I could when he won the Pulitzer Prize.
The podcast I listened to was a Washington Post podcast, so fairly unbiased. I’ve read a little more since and talked to a few people. Everyone’s got an opinion, and some people have a less than complimentary view of Drake, influenced, no doubt, by salacious (the news loves that word) rumors and claims about his relationships. As one person said to me with great disdain, “Who’s on team Drake?”
And yet, both rappers have been acting out, putting out music practically in real time over streaming services. It reminds me of old battles that happened in newspapers between politicians or poets like Robert Frost and Carl Sandburg (that’s one of my favorites). Except these “songs” are more than inflammatory disses, they’re downright mean and often libelous, and more than one has been taken down almost as soon as it was put up. Maybe by a manager or someone with some creative control and more common sense?
So, even though I probably don’t have any right to have a real opinion about this rap battle, I was nonetheless moved to write the following poem. As for if I’m on team Lamar or team Drake, I’d just like to say I hate to see anybody wasting their talents dragging apart an art form they both excel at and should spend their time promoting. What good will it do the music world if two bright stars develop a black hole between them?
Beef By Michelle Garren-Flye
Send out your diss over the interweb. Its mark won’t miss your intended jab.
Insulting pushback, wasting your time. Get in the next crack— make sure to rhyme!
Talent you got in spades but gotta be sure to rile when you throw shades! (What rhymes with pedophile?)
Take it from this old white chick: you could do so much more. You could make each word stick, bring the world to the floor.
But go ahead, send out a slur, defend what’s left of pride. Growl and bark like a mad cur, and we’ll watch from ringside.
This tree has a death sentence. The town has decided it doesn’t look good enough to not be cut down. So it will soon be gone. I’m a little sad. Photo by Michelle Garren-Flye
If ever I’ve wondered if God had a sense of humor, this was answered today. I honestly howled with laughter when I read today’s fortune. And I swear by all that is holy, that is today’s fortune. I’d just been thinking thank goodness this is the last one when I pulled that fortune out of the cookie. I wish there’d been a camera on me because I honestly felt like somebody was pranking me.
Maybe somebody is. Maybe it’s my balloon-man telling me there’s more to come out of fortune cookies than I know. Maybe even a book?
Whatever. This has been a wonderful month creatively. I’ve written some of my best poetry, and I don’t think I’ve written some of my worst this month, so there’s some creative growth that has occurred. So good. I wrote when I was sick, when I was traveling, when work was busy, when I was finishing up an editing project…I never missed a day during all that.
I do thank you for reading it all. I’ll keep you posted if the fortune cookies decide it’s a good idea to fill up a book. 🙂
Photo and poem copyright 2024 Michelle Garren-Flye
It’s not the end yet. Let’s stay with it.
What a Month By Michelle Garren-Flye
I’m tired and distracted and ready to go. I’ve other things to do that take up my time! Don’t overstay, you’re breaking the flow.
Life goes on may be a tale of woe, and that’s easy to say when it’s not your dime. I’m tired and distracted and ready to go
We’ve had a great run, but this I know: drawing out a good thing would be a crime. Don’t overstay, you’re breaking the flow.
If needs were less or the pace would slow, if only I could be forever in my prime! But I’m tired, distracted, and ready to go.
This month has left us much to show. It hasn’t been easy, but we made the climb! Don’t overstay now, you’ll break the flow.
I’m guessing you’d like a little quid pro quo, and I thank you for reading all my rhythm and rhyme. Now I’m tired and distracted and ready to go. Don’t overstay. You’re breaking the flow.
What came to mind immediately was Jimmy Buffett’s classic “Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes”. Love that song and hope to live it someday. However, while I’m still mostly “Mom” the word that is most important to me is “home” and my home is far from perfect. However, I have a lot of pride in what it is, because I think what it has makes up for everything it lacks, at least to the people who belong to it.
Photo and poem copyright 2024 Michelle Garren-Flye
The attitude within is more important than the circumstances without.
Welcome Home By Michelle Garren-Flye
We may be small, we may be broken, the kitchen’s not clean, there’s dust everywhere and the laundry was forgotten— but what we do have here is a must.
You feel it as soon as you walk in: a warmth lacking in tidier spaces, a friendly smell of meals that have been eaten in peace in this humblest of places.
Maybe it’s love, maybe it’s life lived well— or just reliably there although you may roam? It’s much more than just a place you can dwell, and whatever it is, it makes this a home.
I actually found today a challenge more because of distraction and tiredness than anything. When I first read the fortune, I wished I’d gotten it on the 30th, but I came up with something anyway. It’s a type of renga, although it was written all by me, and renga are traditionally written by multiple people.
Hope you enjoy!
Photo and poem copyright 2024 Michelle Garren-Flye
It is most gratifying when a goal is achieved through one’s efforts.
Goal! By Michelle Garren-Flye
plant the seed in spring and watch the leaves poke and spread lofty emergence
the farmer watches proudly life’s devotion gives returns
run hard down the court heart pounds as focus sharpens shoot the ball and score
player doubles over, bows content in success for now
poetry fills page an ache in each syllable captures dreams within
poets appreciate goals when wild dreams are at their heart
At first I was a bit irritated by the typo in today’s fortune. It was the second one I drew, too, because the first was one I’d already done. Not wanting to eat three fortune cookies (I’m superstitious about not eating the cookie or, horrors, throwing away the fortunes), I decided to make the most of this one.
My “office” is my bookstore, which some of you may be familiar with, so this fortune got me thinking about how every time the door opens, there’s the potential for good news to be coming in. And that got me thinking about sitting here at my desk thinking good news was just going to come in and find me without me doing anything at all to attract it or deserve it. So I wrote this little villanelle a little tongue-in-cheek about my low energy days. (They do happen!)
Enjoy. 🙂
Photo and poem copyright 2024 Michelle Garren-Flye
Good news will [be] coming from the office.
Potentiality By Michelle Garren-Flye
Today I could just wait for potential to find me because I know I am great.
The way isn’t always straight when you long to be free, but today I should just wait.
Strive each day to create; yes, on this we agree because I know I am great.
Fake it till that date, when all know my pedigree but til then I shall just wait.
It won’t take long, it’s fate, and this I can guarantee because I know I am great.
Perseverance may be key to arriving at your potentiality, but today I can just wait because I know I am great.
Yesterday I confidently posted a retelling of the Daedalus story…and my facts were wrong. Nobody pointed it out to me, it just hit me while I was driving on one of my many errands that it was not Daedalus who fell from the sky, struck down by the gods, but Icarus, his son. In so many ways, this is more horrifying instead of less. I’m keeping the title of “Daedalus Falls”, but I rewrote it to reflect the true story.
Today’s poem will be along later. I’m working on it!
Daedalus Falls By Michelle Garren-Flye
Divine wind, bear him ever up above the clouds to the heavens. Everyone’s watching, please don’t fail him! Don’t let me down, help him soar. Ask me not how I dare to dream, but let him spread his wings and unite again with me on the side of safety— suppose you do!
Flight is all he’s ever dreamed about but now he’s soaring high, showing lack of restraint, defying the gods. Love fails to hold him up, and his fall strikes me to the ground.
I think the beauty (for me) of each of these poems is each day I get a fortune and sit down at the computer with no idea what kind of poetry I’m going to write. (Except Sundays, which are supposed to be haiku, but I forgot about that last week…)
Today’s fortune immediately brought to mind the story of Daedalus, who tried to soar too high using wings that were his own, but not natural. So I used that as my jumping off point. Let me know if you can figure out what kind of poetry I used.
Photo and poem copyright 2024 Michelle Garren-Flye
No bird soars too high if he soars with his own wings.
Daedalus Falls By Michelle Garren-Flye
Divine wind, bear me ever up above the clouds to the heavens. Everyone’s watching, I can’t fail! Don’t let me down, help me soar. Ask me not how I dare to dream, but let me spread these aching wings and unite me with the gods I long to see— suppose you do!
Flight is all I’ve ever dreamed about but what’s this sudden lack of light about—the gathering clouds? Love fails me now, devotions unheard… so this is how it ends.
Yesterday’s poem just sort of came to me. Today’s was more difficult. However, I had so much fun with the concrete poetry form, I decided to try it again. It’s sort of an Earth Day poem (two days late), and it started out a little more lighthearted than it ended up. I’m not super happy with it, but that’s kind of what this month is all about, right? Writing a poem from a fortune cookie prompt in a short amount of time. It may end up as a masterpiece…it may not.
So, take it as it is. I hope you enjoy it a little, anyway.
Photo and poem copyright 2024 Michelle Garren-Flye
Okay, confession time. Today, for the first time, drew a fortune I just couldn’t work. I tried. I even took the picture. But it wasn’t in the least poetic and it wasn’t even something I could relate to. It was, “Tension in a partnership? It might be time for you to delegate.”
I mean, yes, I’m a business owner, but who am I going to delegate to in my sole proprietorship? My cat? My erstwhile marriage was what really caused me tension, and that’s done. My daughter and I get along. I do delegate to her when I need to, and she always does what I ask. My sons are grown.
So, not being a corporate tycoon and not feeling tension in my other partnerships, I decided to, for the first time, draw another fortune. (I ate both cookies, btw. They were delicious.)
I’m so glad I did. I listened to a podcast just this morning about an Oregon City using its camping ban to fine and jail the homeless population in its parks. I listened to the story of a woman about my age who raised her children in this city who, because of the death of her husband and health problems, had become homeless. She was camping in a park near her old neighborhood.
I often think of the true meaning of “there but for the grace of god” and I know there’s truly a hairs’ breadth that saves us from ill fate. Or maybe it’s an angels’ breath?
God bless and I hope you enjoy this one, my first concrete poem in quite a while.
Photo and poem copyright 2024 Michelle Garren-Flye