To the Present

Day 7 Of NaPoWriMo 2018. 

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The dreams waylaid along the roadside to the present,
Pawned in the past, take satirical broadside to the present.

In hindsight, there is perfect clarity and perfect outcomes.
In foresight, just an experiment, and luck’s rough ride to the present.

Those born on the third base, but think they hit a triple, sit in
jalopy of privilege and with future perfect, joyride to the present.

Come on, let your soft hands pour some wine for us to enjoy
Past in gone, why fret the future, what’s left beside the present?

The fly-over country thinks of bicoastal people as unreal ‘Mirage’, but
happily believe a east-coast grifter who took a low ride to the present.

Notes:
Off prompt today and a seventh ghazal for the seventh day. But today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is good to go revisit at a later point:

In our interview, Kyle Dargan suggests writing out a list of all of your different layers of identity. For example, you might be a wife, a grandmother, a Philadelphian, a dental assistant, a rabid Phillies fan, a seamstress, retiree, agnostic, cancer survivor, etc.. These are all ways you could be described or lenses you could be viewed through. Now divide all of those things into lists of what makes you feel powerful and what makes you feel vulnerable. Now write a poem in which one of the identities from the first list contends or talks with an identity from the second list. This might turn out to be kind of a “heavy” exercise, emotionally, but I hope you will find the results enlightening.

Arrive at a Kiss

Day 6 Of NaPoWriMo 2018. 

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Pablo said: “Love, what a long way, to arrive at a kiss”
Stunned, stung I am, disturbing a bees’ hive, for a kiss.

Come april, branches, grinning like idiots, sport tender leaves
Then, why is it a crime, to work on a plan to contrive a kiss?

It is routinely done, like stealing candy from poor little kids,
Lobbyists are always first in line, to get a big, wet, live kiss.

In summer, we dived right in the water off that secluded beach
Stripped to the skin, happy helding steady gaze to drive at a kiss.

Sitting, staring at a screen as images and script float by –
I’d have to be content, mulling over that ancient archive of a kiss.

How can I be satisfied in this grief and sorrow? Condescendingly,
all you offer is some sympathy, prayers and a jive of a kiss.

Chasing trinkets is a long pursuit, like clasping air in your hands,
but what better measure than to survive and strive on a kiss.

‘Mirage’ you may be disregarded, but you should know, memories
Unwound, weave and create new realities, which thrive on a kiss.

Notes:
Off prompt today. Continuing writing ghazals, so far.

First line is from one of Pablo Neruda’s love sonnets:
Love, what a long way, to arrive at a kiss,
What loneliness-in-motion, towards your company!
Rolling with the rain we follow the tracks alone.
In Taltal there is neither daybreak nor spring.