Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Spongebob Squarepants ..and the "I'll see you in September" song...



Today we are asked to write about returning to is right around the corner again already. Such a broad subject. I started with a serious theme but a different idea emerged as I was writing. See what others come up with over at  

Young sponges 
absorb everything around them -
stimulated by their environment,
are fed stories early in life
Kindergarten has them playing
with crayons, building blocks 
They play on the swing 
and merry-go-round

At the next rudimentary level 
they soak up geography, math, 
emphasis on reading
Curious, eager and thirsty, 
they take home work to study
They do all the prep work, 
hone their skills
to get passing grades, 
to 'get somewhere', 
Their world expands beyond the classroom 
they decide which path to take,
discover who they are
That knowledge gained, 
life ought be that much more manageable 
later, one would think

But the longest learning curve 
is maturity, notwithstanding 
peer pressure, daydreaming,
and one's still growing brain
Social life becomes the light 
that shines through
Young sponges take in music and sports, 
write term papers,
find what interests them most 
They become educated about 
the opposite sex -
no lessons on family planning, 
raising children, those sudden feelings 
they experience, 
hormones urging them to explore 
that part of themselves
Teen sponges 
emulate upperclassmen 
For me, it was their hairstyles, 
full circles skirts, sweaters 
and saddle shoes they wore 
We idolized cheerleaders, 
honor students, 

husky football players  
We loved summer vacations,
but, oh, those Septembers were sweet!

Young adult sponges can become 

waterlogged, which causes 
risky behavior
They need to learn to float
before it is too late, 
Sometimes this means 
some form of rebellion;
they might join the military,
drop out, or fight for a cause -
some go straight to work
Full of language and equations,
they are equipped for college
They become rulers of their domain
while their earliest imprints 
are sometimes trampled on,
tested or.. possibly they can be enhanced
No one knows the odds 
or chances of survival as they 
tip and falter for a a time
They are squeezed by perceived
unrealistic expectations
They are still children
when it comes to their frontal lobes

Their character formed,
talents defined, young adult sponges
advance to college,
into adulthood,
learn accountability
The school of life takes on w
worldly meanings
Students choose to follow a star,
find their passion or bliss  

The energy filled sponges find jobs,

live in a world ever changing,
no longer able to absorb
as they once did

They filter information and events
at their own discretion,
discard what they don't need
They find chance and circumstance 

can crash their domain
Moments of joy are interspersed 
with pockets of sorrow,
unresolved issues,
and black holes of the unknown
They develop pot-marks 
and rough edges,
as they continue to strive and create,
pursue their dreams
Success, however, 
is undetermined at this point 
in a sponge's life
Hopefully they learn to love 
and understand:

         Amid the thrills 
         of discovering and learning,
         elements of faith and hope 
         are involved
         Before life wears one down,
         or one runs out of steam
         what book will they write
         before they graduate 
         from this life?

Thursday, August 13, 2015

Book woman

For we are writing "echo" poems, something I had not heard of before.  Easy to rhyme, but difficult to tell a story. I enjoyed this.

Her lips, chapped by the hot sun, kept closed now
Her eyes search toward the northernmost sky
Their affair need not have ended but for
thin his stubbornness, her buttermilk style,
when neither would swallow their foolish pride
She packs his bags and puts them on the porch
along with his hat and satchel of clothes
She tossed his dusty boots outside the door
Familiar tunes echo in the wind
Coalesced clouds of white birds take up flight
She walks back to her log cabin in peace
She lives a world apart surrounded,
by books she had meant to read and began
build her own life down the Book Woman Road
She watches and sits in the summer swing
She is sheltered from the storm of warm rain
For her life has become her own to live
She intends to live it as she sees fit

Friday, August 7, 2015

Sunrise, sunset, summerness

Gold filigreed sun descends as,
at the same time, rises the moon...
looming full blue, spanning the quay
Moonrise, sunset, kiss gingerly,
a quick goodnight, on the same day
For hungry eyes, it's much too soon

Searching for the fleeting feet of
a fiddler, his slant silhouette
prancing o'er rooftops impishly
His wink of an eye shows the way
to calm an angry, fearful heart,
put all trepidation away

To celebrate for a fortnight,
swiftly before the disarray..
a child's fable of catching stars
Taking time to welcome the sight,
their simple glory in artful play,
for summer fairs, summers' best night