Friday, April 10, 2009

April is National Poetry Month (again)

Has it been a year already? This time around I thought I'd write some original poetry featuring subjects that rarely are given the poetic treatment. It's OK to write poetry about this stuff because it raises it to a higher elevation in our consciousness and then our inner enlightenment can really shine. It sounds like a floor wax commercial! Which is an excellent start:

Floor Wax
The white, plastic, and heavy
non-recyclable jug sits
in the dark corner of the kitchen cupboard
covered in grime; alone, forgotten.
Left behind by the tenants of '99.
Before the vinyl floor was a lost cause.
Before the dirt became part of the pattern.
Do we dump you down the drain?
Take you to the transfer station
seventeen miles away?
I'll let you sit, a token representative
to the hope of sleek gloss and smooth foundation.
Live on, floor wax. Dream on
the possibilities
of a no-wax floor

Do not Google the word
Unless you want to see
many images
of leeches
And if you do,
the moment may
not be

Oh, Federal Insurance Contributions Act tax;
you fund Social Security and Medicare.
Are you tax or benefit?
Regressive, with no standard
deduction or personal
exemption deduction;
or progressive
as in the case
of lower average wages
receiving a larger benefit?
Where we stand on the matter
is no matter;
for you are as constant
as the aging process
and taxes.

30-Day Trial Software
Today my code was so bitchin'
A Web site for hire I was stichin'
Unfortunately for me
My software's not free
My trial-version is up and it's ditchin'

Relive the moments:
It's National Poetry Month So Follow Your Muse, 2008
Hot Damn! It's National Poetry Month, 2007


mamiel said...

These are the greatest poems ever. They remind me of a woman here in the bay area who performed a series of songs based on the memos she received at work. I think it was called "Something must be done about the vending machine".

The poem about the floor wax dilemna is particularly moving. I've been there.

Mildred Davenport said...

I once sent the following poem to the International Poetry Competition because i was convinced the contest was a sales fraud where everybody wins (and then gets to buy a book), no matter how bad the poem:

"Kitty curls her tail,
yank goes Wallace, crawling,
crafty boy,
oh, how awful,
qualities of tuna dough,
lively man, oh wow,
the carpet stank
like totally."

They never got back to me.

Lisa Mc said...

Thank you for sharing! We've got all month to celebrate our poetic tendancies. Let's spread it out and bask in the warm poetry glow.

Shutcha said...

I LOVE these poems. Very thoughtful!