Poem 28 (National Poetry Month): Gravity’s Effect on Dance

I’ve become more and more experimental as the month wears on, it seems. This morning I decided I wanted to write haiku because I didn’t have as much time. But haiku won’t always hold everything you want to say. In a way, haiku became gravity on my dance. So I tried a different way. I’m including both. I actually plan to revisit the second of these later on.

#1

Gravity’s Effect on Dance

By Michelle Garren Flye

Walking by a field—

Three birds startle and take flight.

I laugh in delight.

The sky holds their dance

Steps made up of soars and wheels—

Wish to join the feels!

Stuck instead on earth…

Feet firmly rooted to ground…

My leap only a bound.

#2

Gravity’s Effect on Dance

By Michelle Garren Flye

Walking by a field today,

I watched three birds startle into flight

Seeing their dance, I laughed in delight.

The sky held their dance,

The steps made up of soars and wheels!

Oh how I wished to join their feels.

Stuck instead to the earth,

My dance can never leave ground—

My leaps to gravity are bound.

Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Poem 27 (National Poetry Month): Normality is Too Normal

We could do this, you know. Normality as we once knew it is gone. The slate really could be wiped clean (with a Clorox wipe) and we could begin something extraordinary, if we wanted to do it. I don’t think we will right now because you need a visionary leader to accomplish such a thing, probably more than one. And I haven’t seen many visionaries recently. But right now while the slate is erased, I can’t help but contemplate the possibilities.

Normality is Too Normal

By Michelle Garren Flye

Normality is too normal for me.

I have no wish to go back there.

What’s so great about normal?

Extraordinary is better.

Rainbows and butterflies

Are not normal at all.

Last year, small toads

Hopped through our yard

All spring.

That became normal.

It wasn’t great, though.

We ran over them by accident

And felt bad when we saw it.

Normal. Not good.

Definitely not great.

Roses and daffodils aren’t normal.

Not really.

You have to wait for them to bloom

And then they’re only here for a while.

They are extraordinary.

What’s normal?

If you think about it all the great moments

Aren’t really…normal.

So why go “back to normal”?

Forward to extraordinary, instead!

Product placement… Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Poem 26 (National Poetry Month): Ditch Flower

Ditch Flower

By Michelle Garren Flye

I’ll take your picture now

For tomorrow is uncertain;

We cannot tell when or how

The future pulls the curtain.

It’s pretty sure you’ll go

Sooner than later, my flower,

For the farmer is going to mow

Ere the clouds turn to shower.

Let me capture your grace

Behind my lens to store—

A ditch is not a safe place;

Soon you’ll be here no more.

Here today, gone tomorrow. Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Poem 25 (National Poetry Month): when you don’t feel the rhyme

Sometimes the words flow easily and sometimes not so much.

when you don’t feel the rhyme

by michelle garren flye

you say you’re down and just can’t

feel the rhyme

the world off its axis and fallen aslant

you haven’t the time

and life’s hours seem too scant

let the pain flow away instead

to hold us in sway

while an unjust world continues to tread

unless you stay

your hand and find the rhythm instead.

Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Poem 23 (National Poetry Month): Stay

Inspired by the juvenile owl I saw perched next to his nest in my backyard while his parents chased away the hawks that saw him as prey. As well as my own experiences letting go

Stay

By Michelle Garren Flye

I know the wild world calls—

You want to spread your wings;

But, stay, a little longer, dear.

Put off your springtime flings.

Trust me when I say to you

I remember feeling that way—

Like I’d burst if I didn’t leave

To dance on the wind and play.

But stay, a little longer, dear;

There’s no need for you to rush.

There are dangers you don’t know

That all your dreams may crush.

Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Poem 22 (National Poetry Month): The Last Daffodil

Happy Earth Day!

The Last Daffodil

By Michelle Garren Flye

The day the last daffodil fell

Was truly a sad day indeed.

Leaves and heart turned to seed—

But I’m proud I knew him well.

Was he a politician with brittle skin?

A general whose advice was ignored?

A scientist with findings scorned?

A doctor whose patience wears thin?

No, he was just a simple flower

Whose beauty and life

And survival of strife

Was his only real power.

Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Poem 20 (National Poetry Month): Soul Snakes

Soul Snakes

By Michelle Garren Flye

There’s a barrel of snakes in the corner.

I’ve given each one a different name.

Take a look but do not get much warmer!

They are poison, this is not a game.

This one for instance, he is black and white.

I call him Prejudice for he can’t believe

Anything a bit different or unlike

Could be okay—he just can’t conceive.

His best bud is Racism, you can guess why.

Look there at the green ones, that’s Envy and Greed.

Wrath is a slippery one, he’s really too sly!

Indifference is this one, he ignores when you plead.

They’re all mixed up in my big melting pot,

Writhing and twisting, living in your heart.

(They usually find they can pick their spot.)

Decaying the human soul is their only art.

But look I have an experiment to show!

If I add this big one to the pot here

The others will ever more poison grow—

And that’s what you can expect from Fear.

Not a poisonous soul snake. Just a pretty little racer I saw this morning. Photo by Michelle Garren Flye