On Christmas Trees - Poem

decorated trees

nineteen years till sixty-two

makes forty-three trees

some artificial, most real

bought from hardware stores

tree lots and charity drives

colored lights, white lights

blue and white, variations

different most years

coordinated glass balls

some years red and gold

other years blue and silver

some years all colors

ribbons replacing garland

tinsel-icicles

then came icicles of glass

fuzzy teddy bears

and painted wooden snowmen 

victorian hearts

my boys' handmade ornaments

made from egg cartons 

popsicle sticks and paper

made by little hands

pictures of boys in lockets

in front - side by side.

topped with a star or angel

each year beautiful 

now I decorate alone

I pick out the tree

haul it home and stand it up

I water the tree

come New Years I take it down

decorations stored

they are in their boxes now

up in the attic

should I go and get them down?

for whom? just for me?

who would be disappointed

if there was no tree?

if tree forty-four was not?

a wreath on the door?

candles on the windows' ledge?

a Christmas cactus?

enough to mark the season?

or perhaps a tiny tree

wooden toys and train

to bring in the Christmas joy

sixty-three and one more tree.

(c) Glenda Kotchish
12/2013

On Brides' Dresses - Poem

On Brides' Dresses

overheard two friends

talking - daughter's wedding dress

THE dress had been found

she had said YES to the dress

it was a done deal

eight hundred dollars - good deal

yes above all things

she should have the dress she wants

one she feels good in

their voices subsided 

as my mind wandered

back to thoughts of my weddings 

girl of nineteen years

full-skirted, long prom dress

shortened to knee-length

to suit the grooms desires for

a simple wedding

while he bought a brand new suit

his sister offered 

use my knee-length wedding dress

then at thirty-six

a new groom - new wedding dress

knee-length, cotton, white

just under fifty dollars

groom in a new suit

you can use my light blue dress

his mother offered

my taste is classic, simple

but someday I wish

a gown - indescribably 

beautiful for me

when I walk into the room

all heads turn my way

a hush - isn't she lovely

she is beautiful

yet I know at thirty-six

I glowed, so lovely

my soul shining, beautiful

and I was happy

fifty dollar dress - just fine. 

Glenda Kotchish

11/2013

On Ropes - Poems

1.

How did I get in such a tangled mess?

where did my loom lock up

shuttle skip beats

warp miss woof

2.

I took the rope 

I made some knots

I tied it tight

grounded

going nowhere

3.

If you see a rope

being dangled before you

run

run fast

run far

and for god's sake

don't grab a hold.

4.   A Television Advertisement on Ropes

Tied up?

no need to

untangle

untie

unknot.

get smart.

let go that rope. 

(c) Glenda Kotchish

11/2013

TV and Elsewhere - Poem

Antonyms

when everyone talks

and no one is listening

is it silence - noise?

(c)  GMK 12/2013

5 Words/Phrases at Random - Poems in various forms.

The words - drawn from a hat:  canyon, examination, largely due to, private detective, kind

1

Private detective called in

listen to me

listen to you

in a kind way 

 2 (A Haiku)

Examination 

of their hearts reveals

lack of compassion

 3 (A Sedoka)

The canyon widens

between them with each hard word

largely due to their closed minds

private detective's

examination proves

husband and wife are not kind.

 4  (a Septolet)

 Don't Listen to Him

Largely due

to his

stupid suggestions

we acted

and listened 

to the

private detective

who said

she took

the examination at night

in a

kind of

red canyon

 5 (a Tetracytric)

 See

Dick Jane

be kind to

each other when

the private detective jumps the canyon 

(c)GMK 12/2013

What Season - Poem

Gone Viral

germ

not wheat

much smaller

microscopic

tickling the back of my throat -  a few sneezes

over time blossoms into full fledged cold

making me weak

taking days

away

time

(c) Glenda Kotchish

10/2013

Vacation and Back - Poems

Seattle

So let me tell you

the air indescribable 

not crisp nor muggy

I can tell you what it's not

the air indescribable 

Windows Open at in Seattle

Curtains move with morning breeze

quiet noice

the cook somewhere below

shares morning fare aromas

onions and hashbrowns

waif through the room

Riding Orca

Seattle light rail

metal origami art

china town stop

Home

Why is this sad place

heavy, suspect, filled with angst?

why must I wade through?

why can't I go somewhere else?

unbeknownst, unaware -

laid myself down and took root.

should I have been more watchful?

Glenda Kotchish

10/2013

Birthday Wish - A Poem

My birthday cake - make a wish

Wish for perfection?

Is that wise?

9/28/2013

Glenda Kotchish

Poem - A day in November

November in the Blue Ridge

 1.

blue ridge 

called me today.

come. let me refresh you.

tress of gold, brisk air, winding roads

yes! please.

2.

autumn afternoon

city behind

mountains ahead

rolling skyline

blue ridge

ethereal beauty

copious gratitude

3.

i drove

until it

got dark

until the

earth spun

away from

the sun

4.

i drove the byways

ignoring the express ways

extending my time

in rolling hills on slow lanes.

my reward - tree tops of gold.  

Magical?

Wings that lift a horse - single misplaced horn

go back to sleep

it's a dream

a night

mare.

Broad Daylight in September

On Sunday

Snitch

calls in

tip to police

cars are searched -men are cuffed - end of problem

Come Monday

Bright sunny day, casual friends - meet and greet.

tiny packets

quick exchange -

money

drugs.

(c)GMK 09/2013

On Family

Train Set

We finished building the train.

How long can we play?

Together.

Grandson

He said "I love you GG".

Can this be for real?

He's my boy!

Granddaughter

The box held 4 pink balloons.

Can this be for real?

It's a girl?

(c)GMK 9/2013

September 23 Poem

September 23

september two three

let the physicists explain

china make and ship

let me enjoy this good day

September 22nd's Poems

September Sunday

Roll over, roll over, again.

It is morning

Almost morning

3 o'clock, yes.

Consequences to getting up -

Later a crash

Needing some sleep

No cat-nap time.

Yet it's so very quiet now.

Time for cocoa 

Time for thinking

Time for a poem.

Quinzaines - Poem

 On Running a Business - 3 Poems

Expect to work long and hard.

Isn't that how you run

a business?

He's the owner, a big shot. 

Does this mean he works

less than us?

I look at him quite perplexed.

Why does he feel so 

entitled? 

Quinzaines are short verse forms consisting of 15 syllables in 3 lines. The first line has 7 syllables and makes a statement. The second line has 5 syllables and begins a question. The third line has 3 syllables and ends the question

Today

In the fall of 2001 I was in New Mexico and before catching the plane home back east, I stopped at a flea market outside of Albuquerque and bought a Navaho tapestry for my son as a gift.  The tapestry is a image of a silhouette of a coyote sitting on a rock in the desert with mountains and cacti in the background - a rising moon resting between two snow-capped mountains.

The coyote silhouette is a right profile, ears to the left and an open mouth pointing skyward, howling at the moon.  Looking at in another way, the silhouette is facing forward with two pointed ears sticking up and the mouth closed facing to the left.  In essence, the mouth and ears alternate in position.  Is the coyote looking left, behind him with closed mouth or looking upward with open mouth, howling mournfully at the moon?

Twelve years later the tapestry now hangs in my living room - southwestern not being my son's choice for his apartment decor.  Looking at it this morning, I realized that today is September 11th - a beautiful, clear day like 9/11 - twelve years ago - but hot, not crisp as it was then.  It's 9:00 a.m. - about the same time the planes hit the twin towers and for the first time since 1941 our country was under attack.   Thousands of people lost.

Everything changed that day.

As a country we were shaken.  People in New York - looking for their friends and family with signs and pictures of their loved ones - holding them up for the T.V. cameras in hopes someone had seen the person.  Heroes at the Pentagon saving co-workers.  Heroes on the 3rd plane headed for the White House - thwarting the terrorist by diverting the plane to Pennsylvania.  So, so brave and so, so sad.

Remembering.  I feel a lot like the coyote - looking back - looking up.

Sedoka Poem - THE ART TEACHER

THE Art Teacher

A Fast Mart now stands

With black stains - spent chewing gum

On my revered teacher's lawn.

In my mind - he's there

Brick house, columns, gracious porch

Mr. Davis - hat and cane.

Glenda Mace Kotchish

September, 2013

September 1st Poem

 September Song

We've suffered, survived

Summer's waves of brittle heat

Laden with humidity.

 

September - longed for

You have arrived, quietly

With the dawn of this good day.

Poem - Dreamtime

End of the World

Eyes of mine open

Morning after dream

Tricksters from hell at play.

Non-believer still?

Who wove this dream of horror?

Stories from childhood - or real?

Sedoka Poems in August

The Sedoka style poem is 3 lines with 5,7,7 syllables followed by another set of 5,7,7 syllables.  The first set is the "image" and the 2nd set is the response or commentary.

Projects

The door's paint - peeling

Cedar siding wear and tear

Garden sharing space with weeds

"To Do" list is born

And goes forth to mutiply

In digital form

6 a.m.

Light from the window

Seeps into my bedroom door

The dog's collar - clear jingle

Sounds of morning

Pleasantly awakens me

A brand new day to spin.

Who Knew?

The job I hated

It occurred to me, just now -

Those people hated me, too!

At sixty two years

There's a chance I might be 

Becoming wise, perhaps.

Earth and More

Earth and More
Life
Unseen
None the less
Being, thinking 
Many things named and unnamed - a grand chaos

Tetractys

Tetractys poetry goes like this: 5 lines with increasing number of syllables - 1,2,3,4, 10 or reversed 10,4,3,2,1

Here's some samples from last night's session:

Tech's Reach
Joan
Who knew?
Internet
She would embrace
Composing emails and blogs - keeping pace.

City - Country
One 
Pepper
Tomato
First harvest time
In the city, things CAN grow mighty fine!

Sweet William
Bill
My Dear
Has come home
Tall, tan with smiles
Bringing his still waters across the miles

The Bright Side
Plenty of time for leisure, repose
I'm feeling good!
I'm not tired!
Pink slip
Fired

Patty
Walk
The Block
Fast, slow, stop, run
Sniff, pee, bark, poop - digging in - having fun!

Just Dessert
End 
of day
on Tuesdays
we spend some time
learning new ways to write poems that don't rhyme. 

De Facto

Moments

Are hard to grasp

They slip quickly by, here

Gone - as complete in themselves as a 

Lifetime

Reality

Quantum Physics

Waves, here and there

Open to possibilities

Idea

Some August Poems

Backyard

Small vegetables

Getting tall, bearing fruit

a good meal in a week or so

Garden

August

hot and humic

draining my energy

making movement tiresome and slow

Summer

Cinquain Poems - Memory Lane

A Cinquain poem is composed of 22 syllables - 5 lines - each line has a function
1st A noun
2nd Description of the 1st line
3rd Action
4th Feeling or effect
5th Synonym for 1st line

 I composed this poem after a chance electronic "chat" with a friend of my mother's - the wife of my first boyfriend who I hadn't seen since her wedding  in my mother's extremely fundamentalist church, 44 years ago.  The whole church was invited to the wedding, as was the custom, so I went although I no longer attended the church nor did I know the bride beyond sight and her name.   Her "chat" took me back to that place and time in my life.  

Mother

focused on God

scorn  and abandon us

making us fearful and unloved

Evil

"A really rough time back then" 

My art

paints, paper, clay, words

turning a blank page bright

sustaining, freeing, opening

Savior

How I got through it.

True Colors are Showing

if you are ostracizing

your old friend of twenty years

perhaps you should stop

sending him your jersey bull

letters of contradiction

August 6, 2013

Tanka Poem - August 5th

sitting in the shade

in the cool part of the pool

conversation flows

a breeze blows a bird flies by

she is taking a vacation

Visitors

people come visit

we met twenty years ago 

and i don't know them

but i need something to do

maybe i'll get to know them

don't immerse yourself

let them glow in their own light

from them find some enjoyment

what is their enlightenment

stand back and listen 

August 2013

 

Tanka Poems - Inside

my little black book

i fill with secretive thoughts

no one is aware

friends faults and shortcomings

listed unkindly mine too

almost every day

i  struggle with my black heart

in a poets way

faults my eyes see my pen scribes

my speech and lips keep silent

August 2013

Tanka Poem - Summer

summer one more month

tomatoes in abundance 

should i make salsa

drink iced tea and iced coffee

awaiting beloved autumn

glenda august/2013

Trying to Understand

Young man, baggy shorts, shirt, hat
Hair long dread locks
We sign in our
cars for service.

we sit across from each other
in the lobby
scanning our smart phones
glance at TV

I'm curious about him
try to converse
I get silence
so why bother

Unconditional

it was time for me

to get a dog companion

unconditional

love for me for care I give

yes quid por quo finally

 

 

New Poems - Tanka Style

Last night we ladies explored the Japanese style "Tanka" of poem.   Longer than a Haiku.   No punctuation.  Lyrical!

 

the wheel is silent

I place the moist clay on the bat

I wet my hands

I cup the clay

the 3 of us go round and round.

 

 

 

the vessel sits on it's tile

all night long drying shrinking

it is bone dry now

can-will it withstand the fire

Beginning the Day with Bill

Beginning the Day with Bill

Morning, start working.

She spies photo on her desk.

His smile makes her smile.

The President's Perspective

I was glad to hear the President's message on the George Zimmerman trial results with respect to the perspective of being a person of color.

A White Woman's Walk

On the street alone

Clutching her keys, she hurries.

A black man walks by.

A Black Man's Walk

On the street ahead, 

A white woman hurries.

Please stop judging me.

Two Women Walking

On the street at night,

The two women pass each other.

Black, White, greetings - smiles.

Rebekah Jean No More

Rebekah Jean No More

Trying to find herself

And wanting a brand new name

How Pocahontas!

Haiku - City Living

So you'll know, I feel an obligation to share what I see while living in the city.  Not everything is flowery, nice and pleasant.   These things I've observed. 

Times Have Changed

Section 8 housing

2 white men with sticks and bags

Clean up black men's trash.

Choices

Section 8 housing
She walks the dog past shiny
Jaguars and Benz's

The Burbs

In city's suburbs

The woman thinks righteously.

I'm not judgmental.

Inner City

City, angry screams

The woman wonders why she's

Being judgmental.

Gaul

At the burned down house

The arrogant man glares at

The woman he's robbed.

New Poems - Haiku Humor

The assignment was Haiku.  

The Exercise

In a close, warm room

5 women with paper and pens,

Empty their blank minds.

Magazine Ad

Shiny magazine

The giraffe benignly stares.

You looking at me?

The Universe Breathing

Cool, dark outer space

Microns, protons, neutrons

Breathe life into me.

IMAGINE THIS

Today I have two new poems.

So Imagine Something New

He said you can do anything.

Put your mind to 

It will happen.

And he was right.

I imagined an art center

in the background, 

of my mind's eye,

unknowingly.

It came to be 10 years ago.

I was enthused

And inspired,

Unstoppable.

I'm still pumping my life blood

into the center.

But I am tired.

It consumes me,

feeling used up.

Imagine This

Imagine something new for us.

Let the present

Become the past

Bill and I

Moving forward.

What if there were no books to keep

No art shows and

No openings,

No press releases,

No email blasts?

What if the properties were sold,

The bills paid off,

A nest egg banked?

What would we do?

Touring, dining, walking, a nap-

A sketch, a play

A book, quiet

Conversation.

Last Day of Summer Art Camp but Time for a Poem

No What If's

Exploring Quantum Mechanics

Subatomic 

Waves and particles

Size and movement.

Where particles move so quickly

in and then out

There and not there

At the same time.

In a parallel universe

I'm there, I'm not

I did, didn't

Guilty, guiltless. 

July 10th - Storms & Poems

Here's my almost daily poem. 

Step into the dark, cool hallway.
Close the door on
heat of the day.
The dog greets me.

Time passes, the rooms grow darker.
Crepe myrtles move
back and forth in
the blowing winds.

The dog grows ansy as thunder
booms. She hears it
before I do.
We sit and wait.


The rain's here but quickly over,
The sun is out.
Dark clouds move south,
Hot summer day.

1 Minute Poem #1

Yesterday I joined a group of ladies and we were introduced to writing the 1 Minute Poem.   The poem takes more than a minute to write, but it contains 60 syllables, thus the name.  Cool. 

First we were told to think of images, smells, sounds, thoughts that we had engaged.  The next step was to select one which "jumped" out.  From there we went into James Joyce mode writing whatever came to mind about "our pick".   Finally we were instructed to write a poem using the structure of 3 verses, the first line of each would be 8 syllables, followed by 3 lines of 4 syllables each. 

Here's mine:

Title:  Cold Enough

Maybe I should visit a glacier.

Frozen water,

Icy cold air,

So very large.

Where I can stand close by wearing

My Tibetan

Black, woolen hat

And long red coat.

This may be the place I long for.

Cold enough for 

Me to seek warmth.

(c)  GMK 07/2013

One more thing.   While there we discussed our reactions to each others poems.   At one point, while talking, a word eluded me.  Everyone waited for me to think of the word.   No one tried to help.  No one interrupted.  They just waited, patiently for me.     Amazing.