Fiber Optic Time vs Organic Time

29 Sep 2011 Leave a comment

by jeannepoland in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , ,

Yesterday on the Poetry Blog http://poetryadvocates.wordpress.com/author/poetryadvocates/
I ordered 2 books:
p*tag anthology of poetry for teens, edited by Sylvia Vardell and Janet Wong,
PoetryTagTime anthology for children.
Today there was an email from Nook telling me I could have a new textbook app for free and the 2 books advertised
were the 2 I ordered for $.99 and $1.99. So I opened my Nook and read them delightedly.When I tried to find them in June, they weren’t ready. Then today, Instant Gratification! Fast Food for the Soul!

Fiber Optic Time vs Organic Time
Which is real?

Electronic fiber optics
Info blips
Instantaneously.
The pace of electronics
Pulses
Blasts
Beeps.

While my body needs 12 hours of silence
To reconfigure
Cells.
Detoxify.
Needs me to turn off.
Get out.
Close down.
To begin
And complete
Its reset.
Recreation.
Renewal.
No drums here.
No humming.
The music of birthing every night.
Darkness and silence required.

9/29/2011
by Jeanne Poland

Slalom Valentines

28 Sep 2011 Leave a comment

by jeannepoland in Uncategorized Tags: , , , ,

Act One

 

It’s cold on Catamount.

The mountain shivers.

Her breath steams white

When Jeanne confides to Lydia.

 

“I love the way Nariz is so straightforward.

He never follows the pack.

Just faces forward

To friend or foe

And tells you

Where he stands.”

 

Lydia nods:

“You have a crush on him.

But he does show courage.

And the two of you are cool athletes together.”

 

Neatly, they line up the snowboards

For the Winter Olympics,

With its downhill and cross country skiing, snowboarding and ice-skating.

 

Jeanne sighs:

“I can’t wait to dance around the fireplace at the lodge.”

(Evening seems faraway.)

 

Act Two

 

It’s time for the race!

“Bang!” And they’re off!

Faster and faster!

Nariz twists his body

Past the flag

Through the gate,

Gaining speed.

Snow flies everywhere!

 

He zips on long skies

Poles glistening

Helmet fixed.

Fearless

He races at 80 miles an hour,

Jumps off the 13′ ramp,

Somersaults into an ariel

And lands crunch, on soft snow.

 

In the air

He aces Daffies, Front Tucks and Back Scratcher moves.

 

Nearby,

The free-stylers do moguls.

Their knees flex like giant shock absorbers.

 

Lydia comments:

“First the run

Then the Daffy

Finally the score!”

 

Nariz excels with razor precision.

He even enters the luge run at 90 miles an hour

With his spiked gloves for push off.

 

At sunset,

A glittering gold medal is placed around his neck.

All those months of practice pay off.

 

Act Three

 

In the moonlight,

Jeanne and Nariz dance a Tango for

Figure Skating.

They win a bronze medal for

Timing

Expression

Accuracy

And placement.

 

Afterward,

Jeanne surprises everyone

With a special display.

She slaloms and crisscrosses

Downhill

Flying a sequined banner

With sparkling stars.

 

Snowplowing to a stop

She presents it to Nariz.

 

It reads

“Be my Valentine!”

The two athletes

Wrap themselves together.

And snow step gratefully

Down the mountain

And into the night.

 

by Jeanne Poland

10/28/11

All rights reserved.

 

 

Where’s Quenby?

21 Sep 2011 Leave a comment

by jeannepoland in Uncategorized Tags: , , ,

On Missing my Thirty-six Year Old Daughter

Where’s Quenby?

A Poem For Two voices

Where’s Quenby?
She’s fine.
Lost on-line?
She’s fine.
Still mine?
All her own.
Gone on quest?
She’ll find.
Out to dine?
Food’s fine.
Sipping wine?
Buzz’s fine.
Whining time?
Seizing time;
Shake it up
And grab it time.

I am here.
She is there.
We are everywhere.
Connected
Anyway.

Don’t fret.
Go get
Her cell message.
Eat it up.
And
Wait some more.

9/18/11
by Jeanne Poland

Duet by Joy Acey and Jeanne Poland

21 Sep 2011 Leave a comment

by jeannepoland in Uncategorized Tags: ,

A Duet by Joy Acey and Jeanne Poland

Graham Cracker
By Joy Acey:

May I have milk,
to dip my
graham cracker?

When it drips
on my chin
it’s a real
LIP-SMACKER!

Have you ever looked closely at the holes and indentations in a graham cracker? How many are there?
Are they all the same?  How are they different?  Why are there holes in a graham cracker? If you could travel inside one of those holes, what do you think it would be like?  Who eats graham crackers?  What is your favorite kind of cracker?  Share your poem with me.  Have fun writing today.

What a snappy poem!!!!!
A smacky snapper!

Response by Jeanne Poland:

For breakfast,
As a child
We drowned our
Graham Crackers
In a pool of milk.
Soggy ginger bites
Swam across our tongues.
Cool slurpy crumbs
Slithered down our throats.
And landed
Splash!
In warm stomach’s bowl.
To last all day.
Comfort food.

9/18/11

Interview With Brad Pitt

18 Sep 2011 Leave a comment

by jeannepoland in Uncategorized Tags: , , , ,

Interview With Brad Pitt
(from September 18,2011 Parade magazine)
“I Have to Share”

Brad Pitt rushes from his film set.
It’s another long day in a year crowded with them.
Home to his love of six years, Angelina Jolie,
And their six children.
Three biological and three adopted
From Cambodia, Ethiopia and Vietnam.

“They wouldn’t be alive if we hadn’t adopted them.
America is not separate from Vietnam or Ethiopia.
I believe in the kismet of the run-in.
You run in, make a connection, and you have to answer it.”

“My children enrich me; teach me about myself.
They are sharp instruments making me a better person.”

“Parenting is instinctual.
Respect can be maintained.
Tantrums call for refocusing.
With confidence and trust, we keep our children prospering.”

“When younger, I tried to hide out
Duck the full celebrity cacaphony.
I was pathetic.
Now I choose an interesting life,
Home schooling for my kids with Music and Sports.”

“Don’t pigeonhole me in my film roles;
I’m good at surprises.”

“In Politics, I’d be the worst malapropist.”

“Rather let me design hundreds more furniture plans.
I speak best in shapes.
It’s my most effective vocabulary.”

“In the end, I’m a satisfied man.
Happiness is overrated.
There has to be conflict in life…
To spur you on to the next season.”

“I make true choices:
Love my woman;
Build a family.
It’s a risky venture,
For the greater you love,
The greater the loss.
You put yourself on the line.
That’s the trade-off.
I’ll take it all.”

(For more Brad on line, go to Parade.com/pitt)

by Jeanne Poland
9/18/2011

Cookies

14 Sep 2011 1 Comment

by jeannepoland in Uncategorized

Cookies crunchy
Cookies munchy
Cookies grab me
In my tummy.

I like oatmeal
Ginger, tidbits
Marbled, dated,
Nutty-filled slits.

Dates and figs
Apples ‘n spice
Warm from the oven
Glazed ‘n nice

Melt on my tongue
Heat up my chest;
On the way down
To my tummy’s sweet nest.

Jeanne Poland
9/13/11

The Unlikely Pair

11 Sep 2011 1 Comment

by jeannepoland in Uncategorized Tags: , , , ,

I’m seventy. Don and I met twenty three years ago.
I used to joke about the mix, but now I take it seriously…stone sober.

The Unlikely Pair

Don hides out
And surfs on line.
Digital man
Skimming circuits.
HTML
Data man.

I perform
With music
Song
And poetry
In technicolor.

He locks on to
Symbols
Math
And video;
Wrings it out
For pleasure.

I hum
And swing
Gyrate
And grin
To the rhythm.

We’re a pair:
One grounded
One airborne;
One plugged in
One tethered.

Together
We explore.
Adventure.
Envision.
And take care.

It’s energy we share.
An unlikely pair!

by Jeanne Poland  9/11/11

Class

08 Sep 2011 Leave a comment

by jeannepoland in Uncategorized

Class

Class is a fence:
Locked.
Can’t be bent
Morphed
Or
Stretched.

Breaking out
Means flying
Above
The shackles
Chains
And
Brands.

First,
You need a voice
That sings;
A reach that
Soothes.
A torch
That leads.
Then up you rise…

By: Jeanne Poland on September 7, 2011

Fall Out at the Apple Store

30 Aug 2011 1 Comment

by jeannepoland in Uncategorized

Hurricane

28 Aug 2011 Leave a comment

by jeannepoland in Uncategorized

Hurricane

When I was ten,
We walked barefoot
In the hurricane.
It was an August storm,
Northport, Long Island.

The water rushed
Down the storm drains
Past my toes
Scrunched to the pebbly concrete
For staying power.

Wind whipped our bodies
To and fro.
Rain rivered from nose to lip.
We panted
And climbed on
Exploring country roads
To thunder’s applause
And lightning’s strobes.

We knew no fear,
Only curiosity.

Now that I’m seventy
In August’s storm
I watch TV
And see
The bands of red, orange and yellow
Swirl across the East Coast.

I mourn
A million customers
Without power;
A million more,
Evacuated.

My feet are dry.
My face is calm.
My breathing slow.
But I am tight
With fear
For humankind:
Buffeted
Drowned
Helpless
Against the swirls
Of nature’s wrath
Across the sky.

by Jeanne Poland   8/28/11

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