POEM #13- Golden Gate Bridge

Photo by Anita Dikinme,  Wikimedia Commons

Not quite two weeks ago, Mary Lee Hahn launched a crazy poetry project, "Our Wonderful World." Kevin a.k.a dogtrax (who is a total techno-god and uses a different tool every day to not only create amazing poems, but also presents them in unusual and interesting ways that I so want to try if I survive this darn wonderful challenge) and I, and sometimes others, are trying to write along. Today's wonder is the Golden Gate Bridge. And like most other days, I was totally surprised by the poem, actually two poems, that I wrote.

I started here.

“Bridges”

I’ve crossed the

Golden Gate

Tappan Zee

And Royal Gorge

But I can’t cross
(messing around later: I long for a bridge? Or There is no bridge/to cross?)

the chasm

separating

me from you.

© Carol Wilcox 2014

And ended up here:

“Bridge”

San Francisco

and Sausalito

separated by

fifty mile long

ocean arm

Engineers use

one million tons

of concrete

enough steel cable

to wrap round earth

three times

Twenty ton

steel beams

overcome

brutal winds,

tide and fog

loss of life

to construct

two mile long bridge

250 feet above

choppy bay waters

Building the Golden Gate

seems ever 

so much easier

than bridging

the chasm

between

me

and

you.

© Carol Wilcox 2014

Wonder #12- Empire State building

Image from Wikimedia Commons, Gigi Alt

 I'm trying to participate in Mary Lee Hahn's "Our Wonderful World."
This morning I taught a class, then got a call that my mom had been hospitalized again.
So I spent a good part of today in Colorado Springs with her. And by the time I got home, there were not a whole lot of poems.

This started out as a haiku.
But then the last line wouldn't work.
But I liked it.
So I left it. 
And so it's only kind of a haiku.

"Empire State Building"

Tower slices sky

a geometric symphony 

 of curves and quadrilaterals.

(C) Carol Wilcox, 2014

***********
And then I read an article about a Ford mustang being sawed apart and hauled up elevators for a fiftieth anniversary celebration. And it felt like there was a poem there somehow.

"Invitation"

You are cordially invited
to a
fiftieth
anniversary
celebration
Please come!
a shiny silver
mustang
convertible
will be
unceremoniously
sawed into three parts
then stuffed into elevators
and hauled
up 86 floors
to be reassembled
and admired
by the world.

(c) Carol Wilcox, 2014

Poetry Friday- Wonder #11- CN Tower

Edgewalk- CN Tower, Toronto

I am participating in Mary Lee Hahn's "Our Wonderful World" this month. Mary Lee has compiled a list of thirty wonders, and each day she is writing a poem about a different one. Today's wonder is the the CN Tower in Toronto. When I googled CN Tower, the first thing that came up was the Edgewalk. The Edgewalk is an extreme attraction, 1168 feet above the ground. Somehow, my poem came from the pictures of that attraction.

"Edgewalk"

Why would I choose to walk
1,168 feet above the ground
way up there
way out there
at the CN Tower?

I already walk the edge.

I walk the edge
every time
I walk into a barbershop
with my two little
nappy haired guys.
Conversations stop
as every person in the shop
looks at me.
And I feel so white.  

I walk the edge
every time
I walk through a mall
with my African American princes.
Security guards
follow the boys
all the  way
down the mall.
And I feel so white.

I walk the edge
Every time I climb the bleachers
at my son's basketball games.
Nine black boys
with their families.
And me with my sons.
They call me "Miss Carol"
for the first five years.
And I feel so white.

I walk the edge
when I try to explain
to my fifteen-year-old
why he got a $68 ticket
for riding his bike through a stop sign
 in our quiet urban neighborhood
on the way too football practice.
"Kids do it all the time," he says.
I know he is right.
And I feel so white.

I walk the edge
when I explain to my boys
how they should behave
if they are stopped by the police.
Or if they are in the presence
of young and beautiful white women.
Act like a gentleman.
Don't give anyone reason to doubt your intentions.
Leave if there are any problems.
Or if you hear anything about guns. 
I know the conversations would be different
if my boys looked different.
And I feel so white.

Why would I choose to walk
1,168 feet above the ground
way up there
way out there
at the CN Tower?

I already walk the edge every day.

(c) Carol Wilcox, 2014


Today is Poetry Friday. Head over to Michelle's, "Today's Little Ditty" to celebrate her blog's one year birthday and enjoy lots more poetry.

Day 10- The English Channel

I'm participating in Mary Lee Hahn's Our Wonderful World Poetry Challenge. Mary Lee has identified 30 wonders and each day we are writing about one. Today is the Channel Tunnel. I tried an arun (3 stanzas, 5 lines in each stanza, one syllable in first line, two in second, etc.).


"Channel Tunnel"

Have
tea, scones
in Folkestone
then climb aboard
fine ocean dragon

Plumb
Dover's
darkest depths
Zoom
under
deep strait for
thirty minutes
emerge in Calais

Just
in time
Then
enjoy
baguettes and
cafe au lait,
French (a? in? French?) patisserie.
in a patisserie

(c) Carol Wilcox, 2014

NOTE: If I have my choice, I am a morning writer. Unfortunately, most of this week, I have been super busy at work and haven't had my choice, instead, I've had to do the best I can, after some super long days. Yesterday I facilitated five 45-minute long grade level team meetings, then drove 45 minutes across town in traffic to teach a two hour class, talked with both sons about some poor choices, then came home and tried to write. This morning, I got up and thought, "YUCK!" The crossed out lines are my morning revisions.

Poem #9 Found Poems

Taj Mahal, by Yann, edited by King of Hearts, found on Wikimedia Commons

A very, very long day today and an even longer one ahead tomorrow. The best I can do tonight is a couple of poems I "found" while researching the Taj Mahal. I really do love found poetry and often play around with more familiar texts, e.g. passages from the Bible, in this way.   Tonight I'm just using found poetry because I thought these words were beautiful and because I'm just too tired to write my own poems. Head over to Mary Lee's blog for Day 9 of her April poetry series,  Our Wonderful World!
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"Peace"

The calligraphy

on the Great Gate reads,

"O Soul, 
thou art at rest.

Return 
to the Lord

at peace 
with Him,

and He 
at peace

with you.

"To Display the Creator's Glory"

Should guilty 

seek asylum here,
Like one pardoned, 

he becomes free from sin.
Should a sinner 

make his way to this mansion,
All his past sins 

are to be washed away.
The sight of this mansion 

creates sorrowing sighs;
And the sun and the moon 

shed tears 

from their eyes.
In this world 

this edifice 

has been made;
To display thereby 

the creator's glory. 

POEM #8- THE LEANING TOWER OF PISA

Leaning Tower of Pisa, photo by Alkarex Malin ager, Wikimedia Commons

 I am participating in Mary Lee Hahn's "Our Wonderful World" this month. Mary Lee has compiled a list of thirty wonders, and each day she is writing a poem about a different one. Today's wonder is the the Leaning Tower of Pisa. I began as I have several other nights (around 8:00). First I googled the Leaning Tower of Pisa, then I read a few articles, until I found something that interested me. Tonight, I found it in an article entitled, "Will the Leaning Tower of Pisa Ever Fall?" on How Stuff Works.

And now I have to go do a little schoolwork.

“Leaning Tower of Pisa”

The tower, it’s said

began to lean

almost from its inception

shallow foundation

soft sandy soil

and the lean began

For 800 years

through several wars

thousands of visitors

tower tilted

and tilted

and tilted.

Workers wished

to compensate

adjusted architecture

drilled deeply

and still the edifice leaned.

Tower closed

experts examined

made miniscule measurements

reinforced

with bands and bricks

concrete and cables

drilled down

suctioned soil

applied pressure

measured

repeated

repeated

repeated

until

  finally

     the 

        leaning 

           tower

              leaned 

                a 

                 little

                  less.

(c) Carol Wilcox, 2014

POEM #7- HAGIA SOPHIA

Hagia Sophia, Image by Roweromaniak,  from Wikimedia Commons

 I am participating in Mary Lee Hahn's "Our Wonderful World" this month. Mary Lee has compiled a list of thirty wonders, and each day she is writing a poem about a different one. Today's wonder is the Hagia Sophia. In her back story, Mary Lee reflected on the nature of faith, and, I think, humans need to be right. 

I thought about faith, too, as I read about the Hagia Sophia. One fact that particularly struck me is how this beautiful building was first a lively worship center, but has now become a museum, where people go and admire what used to be. For me, that was kind of a metaphor on how easy it is to lose one's faith, or become distracted, and that's the direction I went today.

And if you are interested in poetic form, I also played around with the tanka, a cousin to the haiku. Each of the main stanzas has a 5-7-5-7-7 syllable format.

“Hagia Sophia”

at its beginning

faith is a red orange crackling

flame, noisy, hungry

all-consuming, insatiable

and yet called to deep stillness.

His message is unyielding.

Pure and undefiled

religion tends to widows,

cares for fatherless,

gives without hope of repayment

turns soft forgiving cheek.

He speaks again.

Abba Father says

Child I have this against you

you have lost your first

love, and let gray ash replace

my sacred burning flame.

How easy it is

to let the raging fire

be extinguished ‘til

it becomes nothing more than

a museum exhibit. 

(c) Carol Wilcox, 2014