Daymares and other dreams

Daymares, Nightmares, Wild Mares, Tame Mares

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The finer points of bad behavior

The finer points of bad behavior

A little catholic schoolgirl that once
was me tumbled notions which seemed
contradictory around in my six-year-old
brain, what could the differences
of mortal and venial sins confer
if separated only by degree, and why
did Jesus have so many brides
when the church clearly did not
endorse bigamy?
if I was bad, originally spoiled,
how did mumbled chanting,
repeated over and often,
do anything at all
to absolve such daunting fate?

By high school I’d given up contemplating
such lofty matters of faith,
and threw my lot in with the sinners.
Or not, I hear Pope Frank is working hard
to de-obfuscate some of the church’s
thornier tangle of dogma and bureaucracy,
though I fear he’s probably too late.
He doesn’t want to give up his plate
of daily spaghetti, or work out in
the Vatican gym, and is already laying
groundwork for putting his two-years’
notice of papal resignation in. He’d
rather go eat pizza, god knows
I can’t blame him.

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NaPoWriMo 2015

April is here- wow, that was fast.

For the past 8 or 9 years, I have been participating in National Poetry Writing Month, a yearly challenge to write and self-publish one poem each day, every day, in April. Scratch April Fools for 2015. I’ve just been too busy. My eldest daughter embarked on her first trans-atlantic voyage, on her own, to visit her long distance boyfriend and his family in England. What an adventure for an 18 year old. I am excited for her, a bit anxious, and proud. I see manifest in her our family’s wanderlust and spirit of wonder and curiousity to explore the world.

In this spirit, I will post one poem from this year’s NaPo challenge here at random. It will stay up for a few days, before it is replaced with another. I invite everyone who writes to join in with us. And if writing poetry isn’t your thing, try reading some. The poetry of nature is around us everywhere as the world wakes up- especially in April.

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Her Laughter Rising, Rising From the Deep

Two springs ago, I planted dry-rooted twigs
someone promised me were redbud trees.
On my knees, I dug a hole in my new hill
with my bare hands, staked with bamboo
and a child’s pinwheel. Through the droughts
and killing winters, they grew
crowns of reddish teardrop leaves,
which seem to laugh as they dance,
silverback, when the fiercest stormwinds blow.

© 2014 Laura Levesque

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National Poetry Writing Month is right around the corner.

For the un-initiated, poets take the challenge in April to write (and publish) one poem each day. Normally we do this in a workshop forum, and give each other feedback. It is a lot of fun, and it’s great to see friends who come back year after year. It is also an exercise which instills discipline in the writer, and the community of fellow poets encourages you to carry on and see it through thirty full days.

The Academy of American Poets has many resources for National Poetry Month.


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