Day 30: Washing Wishes

I really did come up with some of this while I was washing dishes. It's dedicated to all my family and friends and any miscellaneous readers who might show up! (And yes, I realize that the last stanza doesn't flow right, but I wanted to get it out there in time for folks to read it today, and the sentiment is there. I'll work on the meter some other time.)

Washing Wishes
By Batsheva 12/31/09

Washing dishes
Making wishes
What will the new year bring?
New laughs
New lives
New husbands and wives
Some brand new songs to sing

Standing at the sink
Always gives me time to think
Up to elbows in the warm
Wet soapy suds
As each tiny bubble pops
My mind just skips and hops
Through the moments
Of the passing year that was
And whether joy or troubles
Each fades and pops just like
These bubbles
Guess that's why the year
Has disappeared so fast
If I'd paid some more attention
Well, I shouldn't have to mention
I could've held the moments
Made them last

Of course that only goes
For the happy times
Not woes
I would gladly let those slide
Right down the drain
We all do have that choice
Release sorrow and rejoice
Then hold onto the pleasures
Not the pain

Washing dishes
Making wishes
If my wishes do come true
This year'll bring joy, love, and peace
Good health; prosperity too
And it all will arrive wrapped
In moments
You'll be able to hold onto

Day 29: No Exchanges

No Exchanges
By Batsheva 12/30/09

With various talents and gifts
We each have been endowed
Sorry you can't exchange them
It simply isn't allowed

Some folks get the gift of art
And create great masterpieces
Others the gift of medicine
To treat and cure diseases

Some people have a talent for sales
Selling freezers to Eskimos
While others couldn't sell a shovel
'Midst the deepest winter snows

Let's not forget the techies
Of the future, they're the shapers
Without them, I'd be writing this
With pencil on note papers

Some have a head for business
And become the financiers
While others write bestsellers
And end up as millionaires

And oh, the gift of music!
Which all appreciate
To sing or play like angels
There's a talent truly great

There are giant geniuses
Solving problems of the ages
Wouldn't it be sweet to be
As wise as those great sages?

There are so many gifts out there
I've listed just a few
Yet we don't get to pick and choose
A sad fact but it's true

Still we all should be grateful
For the Giver knows the score
And to look a gift horse in the mouth
Is etiquette quite poor

But I can't help but wonder
Would it have been such a crime
If I'd been given something other
Than this silly gift of rhyme?

Day 28: View from the Moon

Hubby gave me the word, "planet" tonight, and this is what I came up with. I know. At some point, Dr. Suess and I have really got to part company. Anyway, I Googled pictures of a planet, and found the classic view of the Earth from the moon, which inspired this. I genuinely think that these are the kind of thoughts that would run through my head if I were up there.

View from the Moon
By Batsheva 12/29/09

Look at this planet
And what will you find?
A blue sphere just spinning
In space and in time

Surrounded by darkness
As black as can be
What that blackness holds
Is a true mystery

Is there life out there?
We've tried to discern
But the answer is one
That we haven't yet learned

But we do know there's life
On that old azure ball
All kinds of life
From the great to the small

Each species perfect
In its own unique way
Though how they all got there
Is quite hard to say

Such beauty and treasure--
Does it really make sense
To think that it's just
Random coincidence?

I don't mean to sound like
Some creationist
It's just--from up here--
Earth does look God-kissed

Yet we could lose it all
Polar bears, whales
Cute little wolf pups
Just chasing their tails

Redwoods and roses
Butterflies and birds
It could all disappear
If we don't heed these words:

Take care of your planet!
For wherever you roam
It's the one single place
You can always call, "home"

(And while we're searching for
Intelligence out here
We should be on the lookout
For it there.)

Day 27: Round the Bend

From no idea what the topic would be to finished in ~25 minutes. No brag, just fact. I know it's not great, but given the time I put into it, I'm happy with it.

'Round the Bend
By Batsheva 12/28/09

The new year approaches
It's just 'round the bend
What can we foresee
From this year's end?

Before we look forward
It helps to look back
Look at past achievements
And the places we lack

Build on our successes
To aim for new goals
And look for what's missing
To fill in those holes

If we know what we need,
Understand where we've been
We can see where we're going
Even when fog rolls in

A good question to ask:
What would you like to say
That you have accomplished
Next year on this day?

If you answer that question
And keep your aim true
Then whate'er next year brings
You will know what to do

So the new year approaches
It's just round the bend
And where will you be
At next year's end?

Day 26: Silver Anniversary

For my Aunt Mona and Uncle David. Today. :-) I could, I suppose, make this more generic, but this one is for THEM.

Silver Anniversary: For Mona and David
By Batsheva 12/27/09

Silver's not a very precious metal
Not compared to gold
Or platinum. They're both much
More expensive. So I'm told.

So I don't know why it's silver
They call 25 years of love
Between two who fit together
Like a hand within a glove

Two folks who raised 3 children
(The youngest's not quite done)
And of the three, it's hard to see
A flaw in any one.
Each is brilliant, thoughtful, kind,
Well-mannered with great grades
The kind of offspring for which
Any decent parent prays.
But gifts like those don't come
Wrapped up all neatly with a bow
They take lots of love and effort
From the parents, and I know
That the two of you have been there
For your kids in every way
And the love you share for them
And for each other every day
Is what makes you all just
Who you are, as anyone can see
A beautiful, exquisite
Truly happy family.

I don't mean to sound like this
Is an attempt to idealize
The nature of your family.
It's not wise to idolize.

I know you must have had some trouble
Just as every couple does
But for the life of me, I've no idea
Exactly what it was.

But whate'er it was, I'm certain
That you worked it out together
With love and understanding
Regardless of the weather.

You're an amazing couple
Who have always stood your ground
Together,
And forever
That's why wedding bands are round

And so I say, as metaphors go
This "silver" just falls flat.
25 years and a happy family
What could be more precious than that?

Happy Anniversary!

Day 25: For my Daughter When She's Grown

I know. What the heck am I gonna write on Mother's Day, right? Hopefully, something better.

For my Daughter When She's Grown
By Batsheva 12/26/09

Someday you may start to wonder,
What does it mean to be a mother?
So let me tell you now, my girl:
A state of being like no other

Your child is your universe
Your earth, your sun and moon
Oh, the ache that comes with knowing
She'll be grown and gone so soon

You do your best to be firm
Setting boundaries with love
But nonetheless sometimes you need
Strength and patience from above

When you have to scold or punish
You do try to make it clear
That she needs to learn these lessons
And that's part of why you're here

And when she cries, you hold her
Trying hard to make her smile
When your efforts bring forth laughter
That makes all your work worthwhile

You cook for her and bathe her
Give her shelter, clothes and toys
And as she grows, you worry
About everything. . . plus boys!

When she's small, you tuck her in
And snuggle every night
Story time and lullabies
'Fore turning out the light

And all these mommy moments
Fill your heart up like the ocean
And serve to make your childless life
A long forgotten notion

What does it mean
To be a mother?
Nothing more or less than this
To feel your heart beat
In your child's body
To give the world
For your little one's kiss

Day 24: The "If" is Understood

This is a haiku. I have no time at the moment.

The "If" is Understood
By Batsheva 12/25/09

A question proposed
Is there anyone who knows
Haiku rhymes sometimes?

Day 23: Who Jew?

Okay, this was another, "I ran out of time poem," inspired by a question posted by a rabbi friend of mine on facebook, and at the risk of taking a very serious question and making it all Dr. Seussy, here it is:

Who Jew?
By Batsheva 12/24/09

Who Jew?
You Jew!
Tell me true, Jew
What's it take
To be a Jew?
Nu?

Is it just having
A Jewish mother
As most rabbis would say?
Or are there perhaps
Some other
Factors in the way?
Like how you were raised?
The Reform Jews amazed
The rest when they said
That this mattered
But the Orthodox cried
And said that they lied
And the Jewish People
Were shattered.

How can it be true
Someone's not a Jew
If they follow all Jewish Law
But some little blip
On their conversion slip
Was an unacceptable flaw?
Yet someone else
With a Jewish mom
Is totally Jewish for sure
Despite this tiny little bomb:
He eats baked ham on Yom Kippur.

Is it what you believe
Or what you do?
Or pure genetics?
Tell me true--
What's it take
To be a Jew?
Nu?

Day 22: How Can it be Christmas?

This one is written from the perspective of me imagining how I would feel this time of year if I were a Christian. It's pretty hypothetical as a result, but I know myself pretty well. . . .

How Can it be Christmas?
By Batsheva 12/23/09

How can it be Christmas
While children 'round the earth
Beg with empty bellies
'Cause folks don't think they're worth
Giving food?

It might bring down the mood.

How can it be Christmas
When people here and there
Sleep in winter with no roof
And so few seem to care?

Do I hear a reindeer's hoof?

How can it be Christmas
When soldiers shed their blood?
Broken bodies now on welfare--
Hey there, sorry, Bud.

I've got candy canes to spare.

How can it be Christmas
When folks are so forlorn
They choose to take their own lives?
Is that why He was born?

So have a merry Christmas
But please remember too
That billions of His children
Are not as blessed as you.
(And instead of going out to sing,
DO SOMETHING!)

Day 21: Climategate

Hubby gave me the word, "Data," for inspiration, and I have been trying to work it into a poem for hours. This is the best I could do. Yeah, I know it's short and needs a lot of work. But hey, 3 solid weeks of not missing a day. Only 49 more weeks to go! Wooooohoooooo!

Climategate
By Batsheva 12/22/09

Have you heard the news
About Climategate?
Some dumb scientists
Might have sealed our fate
By letting some stupid
Emails go out
Telling the whole world
All about
Some inconsistent data
They felt the need to bury
As if a billion people
Weren't already too wary
Of the truth of global warming.
For they'd much rather
Keep harming
Our only precious Mother.
Why can't they understand
That we really have no other
Home in this universe?
If we destroy it,
That's a curse
Brought about by what?
Greed and a few scientists
Who couldn't keep it shut.

Day 20: Past Imperfect

This idea came to me as a result of seeing so many pix on Facebook of people from their childhoods, not the least of which, my own.

Past Imperfect
By Batsheva 12/21/09

Looking at photographs of youth,
We see carefree, joy-filled days.
But do we ask, is it the truth,
Or just a glance through a gauzy haze
Of memory so faded,
Gilded by those so jaded,
That they need to believe
That there ever was a time
When love wouldn't leave
And reason had a rhyme?

Yes, we look at pictures
From the past
And ask, why couldn't happiness last?
But perhaps we might be wise
To look at them through different eyes.
The eyes of a child
Being bossed by adults
Teased by peers
With sad results
Afraid of the dark
So late at night
Having to listen
To parents fight
Striving to learn
But scared to fail
The thought of it
Could make you wail.

So rather than pining
For a wonderful youth,
We should take a step back
And remember the truth.

Day 19: To-Do List

Hubby gave me the word, "Reindeer." It was a tough one. This is what I came up with. Could you do better?

To-Do List
By Batsheva 12/20/09

Do you ever feel overloaded
Like a reindeer on Christmas eve?
With so many things
On your to-do list
It’s almost hard to believe?
Well, like those tiny reindeer,
You’ve got to have a little faith.
Just make the leap
And keep moving.
Don’t sit around and wait
For perfect circumstances
‘Cause they never do appear.
The very best time is always now,
And the very best place is here.

But this doesn’t mean
You should go go go
And never take a break.
The reindeer get 12/26
To 12/23 for Heaven’s sake!

Though it may be true
That your list to-do
Will never be completed,
Without doing this one item
You surely will be cheated.
The one thing to check off
That’s best?
Always take some time
To rest.

Day 18: Ode to FarmVille

Ode to FarmVille
By Batsheva 12/19/09

What is FarmVille?
You may wonder.
So I’ll tell you true--
It’s a Facebook game
That pulls you under
To a world where you
Plow and plant and harvest
And fertilize all day,
And never let your real life
Interfere in any way.

Yes, the game is quite addictive.
I’m sure you will agree.
But it’s not a competition.
It’s creative.
Don’t you see?
We all design our own farms,
And we choose just what to plant;
Then arrange it any way we want,
‘Cause no one says we can’t.

The game is quite cooperative,
With neighbors the world wide.
Though we’re on different continents,
Our farms are side by side.
Folks from different countries
That in life are known to fight
Can be friends here in Farmville.
It’s a world of peace and light.
We fertilize each others’ crops
And give each other gifts
And when you get just what you want
You feel a little lift.

In life we may not have the land
Or strength it takes to farm,
But it’s fun to grow things anyway,
So tell me what’s the harm
In planting with the ’puter?
Where at a mouse’s touch
We grow trees and flowers and
Vegetables, with chicken coops and such.
It’s true our produce may be
Little more than specks of light,
But really, what’s the difference
If it makes us feel all right?

So if you’re talking Farmville,
Please try not to put it down.
It is the most enjoyable game
That ever could be found!

Day 17: The Last Night of Chanukah

Short, sweet, to the point. Had to get it in before sunset tonight, because it's Friday.

The Last Night of Chanukah
By Batsheva 12/18/09

It’s the last night of Chanukah
And it makes me want to cry
The last night of Chanukah
How I hate to say goodbye
To candles, dreidels, presents
Latkes and sufganiyot
Tomorrow night we put away
The lovely chanukiyot.

It’s the last night of Chanukah
But we shouldn’t shed a tear
Because we trust it will return
At this same time next year.

(And it may help if you remember, please,
We’ll need the year to work off
All those oily calories!)

Day 16: Internal Light

Just getting this in in the nick of time! Right before midnight, day 7 of Chanukah! This was inspired by an Aish.com article I read. It's a little preachy, but that's what you get when you're inspired by Aish.com!

Internal Light
By Batsheva 12/17/09

What was the oil really about
That oil that lasted eight days?
It was used to light the Eternal Lamp.
And when you shake out
All the kitsch and the camp
You’ll find that Chanukah can be viewed
Through a very spiritual gaze.

The Eternal Light had to be lit
With oil completely pure
There was plenty of impure oil around
But we cleaned and searched
Until we found
One small, sealed jug,
Enough to last
Only a single day.
But the Eternal made a choice
To meet the faithful ones half way.

And so we learn that when we choose
To do what’s right
We cannot lose.
Heaven itself will meet us
In the moment that we show
We’re willing to make the effort
To let our INternal Lights glow.

Then given the word, “Chanukah”
Translates to, “Dedication,”
It might be wise to ask ourselves
Amidst our celebration,
As we go along our merry way,
What are we dedicating
Our lives to today?

Day 15: Maccabees or Miracle?

Another lame Chanukah poem. Sorry folks, I'm having a rough week. Fortunately, my statcounter indicates that hardly anybody is reading these, so I don't have to feel bad about disappointing anyone but myself. Hope you enjoy it at least a little.

Maccabees or Miracle
By Batsheva 12/16/09

How is it possible to write
A poem for Chanukah
Without seeming trite?
Is there any way one
Can not rhyme
“Light” with “Night” and “Bright”
Each time?
I mean, what can there
Be left to say
About a two-thousand-plus-
Year-old holiday
That hasn’t already
Been said before
In hundreds of volumes
Of holiday lore?

Still, I feel that I should do it
(If only I can just get through it)
But on which aspect
Should I write?
How the Maccabees
Defeated the Seleucids’ might?
Or how one day’s oil
Burned for eight—
The miracle we celebrate?

Maccabees or miracle—
Which should be the focus?
Some argue for the victory
And not the hocus pocus
Others insist that war
Should not be celebrated
But The Eternal’s miracles
Are cause to be elated

Maccabees or miracle—
A Rabbinic debate of note
Almost as great as latkes
Or sufganiyot.

Day 14: The Great Debate

I just had a few minutes to write this. I was unbelievably swamped today, and I have to get up at 6AM, so can't stay up till midnight. I really didn't pay attention to the meter. It's basically a rough draft. The idea came from a Facebook post made today by my friend Simcha. So Sim, this one is for you.

The Great Debate
A Chanukah Poem by Batsheva 12/15/09

If you ask a non-Jew,
“Tell me, please,
What do you
Think is better,
Potato pancakes
Or jelly donuts?”
They would probably say,
“That’s so nuts.
No question. Hey,
Of course,
It’s jelly donuts.
And why compare them
Anyway?”
But if you ask a Jew,
“Nu?
Latkes or Sufagniyot?”
Well then, my friend,
You’re in a different boat.
Now you have a great debate
The likes of which
Could seal your fate
For on Chanukah
It’s all about the oil
And what happens
Once you bring it to a boil.
Do you go savory
Or sweet?
Which one caused
The Seleucids’ defeat?
Oh, who cares?
‘Cause either way,
You’re gonna gain
A pound a day.

Happy Chanukah!

Day 13: Heaven and Hell

Heaven and Hell
By Batsheva 12/14/09

Sometimes I know
It's hard to tell
If Earth is Paradise
Or Hell

But the truth is
That it's neither
For you see it could
Be either

It just depends
On how you live
On what you take
And what you give

If you take each tender moment
And hold it in your heart
And give with love
In everything of which you are a part

If you fill your world
With passion, joy, and mirth,
Then you create a Paradise
On Earth

But if taking things
Brings you
Pseudo-contentment
And you only give
When forced to
With resentment

If Greed and Hate
Have caught you in their spell,
Well then, my friend,
You've made your world
A Hell

So let us take a stand
And do what's right
For a world
Of wonder, peace and light

And if you ask me,
"What is Heaven?"
I'll say, "This is:
It's the pure bliss
Of my little daughter's kisses."

Day12: Moments

This was written on Sunday (last night), but not posted until today (Monday), because I had to leave the house for the night, right before I was about to type it up and post it. It's kind of corny, as is the one I wrote this morning, but I've got life and death on the brain, and for some reason when you have life and death on the brain, it's really, really hard not to get corny.

Moments
By Batsheva 12/13/09

One moment you're here
The next you're gone
Never to see
Another dawn,
And whatever it was
You were planning to do
Can never, ever be done
By you.

The sight of a rainbow
The scent of a rose
The taste of champagne
As it tickles your nose
The sound of the ocean
The laugh of a child
A cool summer wind
Blowing free and wild

These everyday moments
Of joy and peace
Come to an end
When you're deceased.

So treasure them now
Please don't delay
Do whatever you can
Today.

Just live each moment
And celebrate
Don't let yourself
Procrastinate.

Then when the day comes
That your time is up
You can go knowing
You filled your cup.

Day 11: Doodle Poem

This is, obviously, another doodle poem. But this time, the doodle word in question, given to me by my mother, was, "Doodle." I hope she likes it. I wouldn't complain if anyone else liked it too. As with many of my poems, I had absolutely no idea where this one was going until it got there.

Doodle Poem
By Batsheva 12/12/09

Doodle me a river
Doodle me a rhyme
Doodle me a picture
Of a funny valentine

Doodle me the ocean
Doodle me the stars
Doodle me a planet
Like Jupiter or Mars

Doodle me a tulip
Doodle me a dream
Doodle me the face of
Someone eating ice cream

Doodle me a teardrop
Doodle me a sigh
Doodle me the answer
When I’m wondering why

Doodle me a rainbow
Doodle me the rain
Doodle me a world
Where folks are free from pain

Doodle me the sunshine
Doodle me the moon
Doodle us the peace on Earth
That could be coming soon

Day 10: Treasure Trees

I subbed for a "Woods Technology" teacher today (AKA: "Wood shop"). The students watched wood-related videos in each class, and I got to thinking.

This is really more of an educational poem for elementary students (despite the fact that I was in a high school today), so think of it from that perspective rather than comparing it to Joyce Kilmer, okay? And I'm not sure poems are allowed to have postscripts, but this one does.

Treasure Trees
By Batsheva 12/11/09

A house, a desk, a baseball bat
Once lived in trees.
Now think of that!
The pencil that you use to write
Held sleeping birds
In nests at night.
The table where you eat each day
Was home to happy squirrels at play.
Even the chair you're sitting on
Has served as shelter
For a fawn.

Yet there are many other reasons
Trees are treasures
For all seasons.

Apple, cherry, plum, or pear--
Fruits are another
Gift they share.

Their roots drink water,
Preventing flood.
Without them,
We'd be stuck in mud.

There's even more!
Would you believe
They give us pure, fresh air
To breathe?
To be a little more specific,
Trees make oxygen--
Terrific!

And it just would not be right
To forget the sheer delight
Of simply looking at a tree.
But when you look,
Make sure you see
The wonder that a tree can be!

P.S. Remember this
(You should):
A Tree is so much more
Than wood.

(And if you ever cut down trees,
Always plant replacements, please.)

Day Nine: Mythology

Today I subbed for a teacher of Latin and World Mythology. Surrounded by textbooks with the word, "Mythology" in big bold letters, as well as posters of Greek and Roman gods, Grecian urns, etc., I decided to do a doodle poem and see what plant sprouted from the seed, "Mythology." I was actually surprised by what came up, but I like it. Hope you do too.

Mythology
By Batsheva 12/10/09

The world prefers technology
Chemistry, biology. . . .
Me?
I favor mythology.
While scientists are out
Searching for proof,
I seek a more subtle form
Of truth.

When brave fools work
On picking locks
The wise recall
Pandora's box.
And Daedalus knew
No challenge could be won
By flying ever closer
To the sun.

So when sailing down the Styx
Like it's the Nile,
Just remember that
A myth's good as a mile.

(If you say I'm anti-science,
I hope you're joshin',
Because I'm not.
I simply am pro-caution.)

Day Eight: Gifts

This one is something in the realm of the nursery rhyme. I was inspired driving my daughter (age 6) to school today, when she commented on how amazing the sunrise was. She said, "I can't believe how beautiful it is. It's like it's peach and gold!" There was total awe in her voice, and it made me particularly happy because she gets that from me. Sunrises and sunsets amaze me so much that I often point them out to people (sometimes strangers or casual acquaintances) who look at me like, "Who cares?" So I feel gratefully delighted that my daughter appreciates the magical parts of the day as much as I do. I just hope she holds onto that appreciation for the rest of her life. She will be truly blessed if she does. I don't typically dedicate my silly little rhymes, but this one is for her.

Gifts
By Batsheva 12/9/09

Look at the sunrise
And you will see
A gift wrapped up
For you and me
In wrapping paper
Of pink and gold
With the sun as a bow,
So bright and bold.
The beautiful gift
Of a brand new day
For you to learn
And laugh and play.

Then when the long
Long day is done,
There’s another
Gift for everyone.

Nighttime is a gift--
It’s true!
Wrapped in sunset
Of orange and blue.
And the thing about this gift
That’s best?
You get to dream sweet dreams
And rest.

Day Seven: Mad

If you keep up with me on Facebook, you'll know what inspired this. And woohoo--it's been a week of rhymes! Good times! (I had to do it.)

Mad
By Batsheva 12/8/09

It’s hard to write a verse
When you are mad
It really is a curse
Much worse than sad
There’s a reason why “mad”
Also means insane
It does crazy things
To a healthy brain

Anger’s like a cancer
Or some evil necromancer
That casts a spell
Upon your troubled mind
And makes you blind
To beauty, truth, and insight
A dark that won’t let in light
And there’s only one solution
I can find

Just take a breath
And let it go.
When anger’s gone
The words will flow
With sanity returned.
And suddenly you’ve learned
The only lesson
From this to be had:
It’s hard to write a verse
When you are mad.

Day Six: Request Granted!

First of all
I have to say
As I drove to work,
It snowed today!

"One inch or less,"
The weatherman said,
As I was lying in my bed.
Exactly as I had requested
A fact that now
Must be digested
By my silly, sleepy brain.
Wouldn't it just be insane
If my poem had the power
To bring about
This sweet snow shower?

But what if
Just ONE
Rhyme were magic?
Could anything possibly
Be more tragic
Than to have let
This great gift go
On a thing as trivial
As snow?

Day Five: December Request

OK, I know this is short, but I wrote it in 10 minutes because I just happened to be inspired. I never made any promises about length! :-)


December Request
By Batsheva 12/6/09

I don’t want enough to blow
Or plow or shovel.
That’s too much trouble.
But I’d really like some snow
You know?
I’d really like some snow.

Just one inch, please,
To dress the trees
In a sparkling, crisp, white gown.
We’ve had enough of gray and brown.
Snow, come on down!

Day Four: Ant and Grasshopper Revisited

This was another doodle poem. A doodle poem is something that I started doing many years ago. I had a boyfriend at the time who was a very gifted artist, and he liked to play this game where he'd have someone draw a random squiggle or doodle on a piece of paper, and he'd turn it into a cool picture. I being the jealous, competitive type that I am (not as much these days), thought that while I may not be able to draw, I could do the same thing with words. I'd have someone give me a random word, and I'd weave it into a poem somehow. Yesterday's poem, "Spotted," was a doodle poem, and today's poem, is also one, courtesy again of my beloved hubby, who gave me the word, "grasshopper." If you'd like to give me a word, I will attempt to weave it into a poem. Meanwhile, hope you enjoy. . . .

The Ant and the Grasshopper Revisited
By Batsheva 12/5/09

The ant, so they say,
Worked hard every day
Storing food for the cold
Months ahead
Not asleep in his bed
Yes, so it is said,
And then we are frequently told
Of grasshopper, so lazy,
He must have been crazy
He made little effort at all
He would lie on the beach
And perhaps eat a peach
Then go dance at the big insect ball.
Yes, he’d party and play
While the ant worked all day,
Thinking, “Oh, that big, silly, green fool!
Doesn’t he know
That when the winds blow
I’ll be the one who will rule?
He’ll come beg me for food.
I’ll try not to be rude,
But he’ll be on the street
With nothing to eat
When I say, ‘Hey, sorry dude.’”

Well, the ant worked. It’s true.
His food stores just grew,
Until one day in early late fall
(And this is a fact!)
He had a huge heart attack.
Guess who wound up eating it all?

Day Three: Spotted

Fridays and Saturdays are going to be a challenge for me. My commitment is to only post poems that are written on the day that I am posting them. My Sabbath, which I observe formally, begins at Sundown on Friday and ends at dark on Saturday. I don't write on the Sabbath, and on some Fridays, including this one, I work almost up until sundown. So, I stayed up past midnight, and just wrote a poem between 12 and 1:30AM. I came up with the following, thanks to my husband, who earlier gave me the word, "spotted." I asked him for a word for inspiration. That's what he gave me, and the following is what I came up with. And now I have to go to sleep!

Spotted
By Batsheva 12/4/09

I spotted a fly
On my window sill
And it made me wonder why
Why were flies created?
It’s a thing to be debated
They’re dirty
They can make you ill
As annoying as the biggest pill

Yet here they are
They’re everywhere
Not caring if we humans care. . .

Their eyes are almost magical
So faceted, fantastical
What do they see
With those fly eyes?
Do they bring the world
Down to their size?

And what am I to them?
Ahem. . .
Oh what am I to them?
Do they fear me?
Can they hear me?

I just don’t want them coming near me!

So though these thoughts
Popped in my head
I moved quickly
And now it’s dead
Just a moment after I spotted. . .
I swatted.

Day Two: Internal Dialogue

Internal Dialogue
By Batsheva 12/3/09

You have to write a poem
I’d rather meet a golem
You’d still have to write a poem
I’d rather be in Nome
You’d still have to write a poem
My brain is putting up a fight
I simply don’t know what to write
You made a commitment
You have to stick with it
You have to write a poem
The lights are off inside my head
I simply must go back to bed
NO
It may not be fun
But you must get it done
You have to write a poem
My skull is filled with purple foam
But
I think I wrote a poem

(Do you always talk to yourself in rhymes?
No, just sometimes.)

Day One: Advice to New Adults

Day 1 of a 365 day adventure. I will attempt am going to write a poem a day. They will not all be great. They will not even all be good. Some people will probably think none of them are good, as I do not subscribe to the current prevailing literary philosophy that rhyming, rhythmic poetry is childish, corny, old-fashioned, and just plain lame. I prefer to think of it as challenging--in the words of Robert Frost, "Writing free verse is like playing tennis with the net down." That said, I have been known to write non-rhyming poetry from time to time, and may be inspired to do so here. But if I do, I promise you will still get at least one original rhyming poem a day for at least a year.

And here is today's, written in the wee small hours this morning:

Advice to New Adults (Or What I Wish I’d Known 25 Years Ago)
By Batsheva
12/2/09

Don’t try to be a poet
If you’re afraid to write
Don’t try to be a soldier
If you’re too scared to fight
You can’t be a musician
If you’re afraid to play
You can’t be a politician
If you don’t know what to say
You’ll never be a singer
If you’re loath to lift your voice
And you can’t be much of anything
If you won’t make a choice

No one gets a road map
For this trip we’re taking
But the good news is
We're traveling
With maps of our own making
They show us where we’re going
If we think we’re getting lost
And Fear is the great sinkhole
To avoid at any cost
So when you see it in the road
A little bit before
Just hit the brakes
And turn the wheel
And take a quick detour

When you hit a bumpy stretch
That may just be a sign
Slow down
Enjoy the scenery
And really take your time

It’s not all that important
Where you finally arrive
The thing that really matters is
Get in your car
And drive