"Girls don't like poetry...

...Everyone knows that." That was a response to my comment that we had five boys and me at poetry club yesterday, and I wondered where all the girls were. I can think of a lot of girls who love it. But it was funny.

Remember last week when I said that I didn't like the poem I wrote at poetry club enough to post it? I changed my mind. It happens. Here it is:

Reasons for William

I sit on the dock and watch the boats sail
passengers laughing, enjoying the sun
though some look with longing back to the shore.
I know the feeling -- stuck, trapped, alone

Remember that time? Seems ages ago
we ran down the dock, impulsively jumped
right into a boat. We sailed for a day
sun shone so brightly; the water was fine.

Then after some time it lost its appeal
felt claustrophobic though out in the air
but you steered the boat still farther away.
I wanted to dock but you held the oars.

A storm began brewing, crescendoing wind
the boat began rocking, my hands clutched the sides
the sound of the waves crashing against wood
was just like my gut, and naucious I felt.

Then we tipped over. The rest is a blur.
Somehow I made it, safe, back to the shore.
That's why I sit here and watch others smile
enjoying the constance of my solid ground.

This week my poem was about my friend Suzie! It needs work... kind of lacks meter and rhythm and alliteration and rhyming and stanzas and all those things poems are made of, but I figure, hey. It's my blog, and I can post whatever I want. So here it is:

Banana Fanatic

First mix flour, sugar, spices
melt some butter -- only slightly
stir to reach the perfect point
mix, melt, stir, stop!

Cookies are a daunting task
ways to go wrong, I've found them all
So I just sit and watch her
with patient anticipation

As she stirs and adds and forms
she mentions their complexity
how she loves to create them!

Like pumping out those essays
over and over til it's just right
No longer do hers get red marks
that was the past
she learned from them
Now she's an expert, due to practice

I haven't patience to learn from failure
from my red marks, from burnt cookies

And when that buzzer fin'ly sounds
out comes the tray with rolling steam

With
drained cup of milk
cookie crumbs
and laughter ringing in my ears
I feel
completely
satisfied.

I like this writing poems about people thing. :) Turns out that Coldplay is good background music... quite inspirational. Eating one of Suzie's cookies helps too.