LPiA-22 Nov. 7
#1
Let's Pretend it's April - Nov. 7


Rules: Write a poem for LPiA on the topic or form described. Each poem should appear as a separate reply to this thread. The goal is to, at the end of the month have written 30 poems for the month of November. 

Topic : Write a poem about a cherished possession. (bonus points if said possession is a book or other piece of art)

Form : Any
Line requirements: 8 to 12

Feel free to reply with comments or kudos as you wish. 

Questions?

A reminder that everyone is welcome to participate, and that 4 in 30 days is better than zero in 30 days. Game on. 
Also, a reminder that you can catch up as you wish. 
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#2
Teresa of Avila
Wrote 'the way of perfection'.
It belonged to my grandad.
What is a schizophrenic
scientist in the sixties
supposed to do but to pray
to the patron saint of insanity
his Lithium does it's job.
Peanut butter honey banana sandwiches
Reply
#3
Tiger,
You've got to stop doing this!
First it was the most "overrated"
now it's something I cherish;
you're making me think too much!

Most dear to me is my dog,
but he's not a possession,
rather a companion, and we're
bound at the hip like Siamese Twins
and possess each other.

But if I had to choose an object
I guess it would be text of Ulysses
the Modern Library edition.
I have copies spread about,
one in New Mexico, another
in a mouse ridden cabin in Lometa, Texas
and two here where I live.

Happy now?
Reply
#4
Almost Complete


My Kindle’s not a book– it’s many:
almost all, except for any
Amazon declines to publish
in her brass-bra’d woke-ish death wish.
I love my e-book regardless,
cover bulged, screen dim, Bluetooth-less
for its ever-present window
on the text-thought universe.  No
dead-tree leaves of print to lug,
just one small volume, spare and snug.
feedback award Non-practicing atheist
Reply
#5
Rope


My prayer rope weighs
so much in my hand
or on my chest yet
almost nothing in my pocket.

One night I dreamed I was
just outside the Hagia Sophia
searching for a silver cross
to wear for after my baptism.

There were so many people---

I used to wipe so many tears
with the rope's tassel, but now
I barely cry when I cry out
"Lord, have mercy!" however much

the days grow dark.
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#6
Goodbye


A faded pooh bear from birth--

It sits on my shelf,
silently contemplating
behind the film of dust
on its small black eyes.

Contemplating honey.

I cannot supplant my original
love and interest in it, so I
gave it to my little sister

She adores it.
"Whenever is a really long never"
Reply
#7
(11-07-2022, 10:21 PM)TranquillityBase Wrote:  Tiger,
You've got to stop doing this!
First it was the most "overrated"
now it's something I cherish;
you're making me think too much!

Most dear to me is my dog,
but he's not a possession,
rather a companion, and we're
bound at the hip like Siamese Twins
and possess each other.

But if I had to choose an object
I guess it would be text of Ulysses
the Modern Library edition.
I have copies spread about,
one in New Mexico, another
in a mouse ridden cabin in Lometa, Texas
and two here where I live.

Happy now? Getting there  Thumbsup
Reply
#8
The Great Divorce

When we were first married
we bought books 
faster than we could read them.

Garage sales were godsends;

every week you'd come home 
with a dozen classics
for less than a buck--
some of them leatherbound.

In the separation,        she didn't want them

and my one-bedroom apartment
looked like the Library of Congress
twice smart-bombed.

I saved the signed Burroughs,
the first addition Steinbeck, the Rabelais
and a couple C.S. Lewis...

(Kerouac's "Safe in Heaven Dead" pocketbook
was and is non-negotiable) 

but the rest 
I'm almost ready to part with.
Reply
#9
It’s one of a kind-
they all are- those old
mine cut diamonds. Like the one
in my grandfather’s ring
that he gave to my father,
who gave it to me, and I then
gave to my son.

I never really knew
my grandfather, but I do know
where a part of him went.
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