Monday 30 April 2012

When CBBC is not for you - Day 30 NaPoWriMo Clapping Rhyme

When CBBC is not for you?

When Makka Pakka
makes you want to pack an AK47
Turn it off.

When the Pontipines
make you wish Iggle Piggle
had set some landmines
Turn it off.

When Timmy and his monotone friends
taunt you to hope for your end.
Turn it off.

When Granny Murray
imparts her mottos twee
Turn it off.

When all the names you know
are Tinky Winky, Lala and Po
(and you’ve forgotten the other one)
Turn it off.

When even Abney and Teal
is a massive ordeal.
Turn it off.

Turn it off.
clap your hands
make up your own songs
of real animals and genuine sadness.


NaPoWriMo Day 30 Clapping Rhyme - OK! Some Children's TV is so wet and unrealistic, I particulalry dislike Me Too! and find myself watching it when my 20 month old is already bored and has made his way into a den under the table! Wonderful antidotes - Dip Dap, Octonauts Creature reports (but I couldn't eat a whole one), Tinga Tales, Big and Small (as my husband says the best thing Lenny Henry has ever done!), leo the Lion and  the Koala Brothers. Maybe I will write a praise one when not so angry at it. Oh and I don'd mind the Hamsternauts in Baby Jake. Goodbye for now x

Dissatisfaction of the Green olymic hoop - NaPoWriMo Day 29 - Clerihew

Dissatisfaction

The green Olympic hoop
tired of the group
decided to go solo
advertising a well-known mint.

Day 29 - Oh play with the expectations of the reader, why not? That was fun. I had a four page piece and this says it all really!

Work World 1996 - NaPoWriMo I remember poem Day 28


Work World 1996

Miss Bean, Purple Hair, Chubby digits,
Brazen Hussey, Hairband.
The loving nicknames of my first job.

Shaun and Bryan playing Who’d you rather?
with the famous and the real,
Sarah Q’s clock-watching,
being mothered by the two Sues,
Kate’s scathing
and Mad Max’s hair that was even bigger than mine

I remember Ian’s beard and his quiet ways of management

Christmas Eve old style- One hour’s work,
two hours in The Vine, lots of food
and enough beer to make us dizzy.
back to share a bottle of smoky Valpolicella
staff-room stuffed with light, people, buffet food and 12 packs!

One hour lunches and two half hour breaks every day.

My lab coats were never white long
taking up the crystal violet and scarlet safranin stains
I remember commandeering the Media Room,
and feeling essential.

I remember the satisfying crunch of the antibiotic disc dispensers.
being surprised how many people smoked.
being shocked so many people gave blood.
Chatting up the autoclave man from Skelmersdale,
the infertility samples left unlabelled on the counter
and the embarrassed men I had to chase after to label them.

I remember crying at my interview
I had failed Uni, lost my first boyfriend
and had to find a job in the same week.

I remember the faeces pot that exploded on Day 2
(even though we had to keep them 3)
Mr Mal Teaser’s sample on April Fool’s day
the amputated toe no-one wanted to cultivate.
the pregnancy tests I predicted
the coagulation that meant new life
and no way of knowing if this means joy or despair.
I remember wondering which plates
to assign to a vaginal vault (after a transgender op)


needs pruning and elaborating, I think!
NaPoWriMo - Day 28  Notes and memories really, but I have another two to type tonight, I am passing on the tree one as I will have followed 30 prompts anyway, but will try to fashion a clerihew and a clapping rhyme now. Thanks everyone x

Wednesday 25 April 2012

A Mouse Thief, some stolen stars and a round window that is not mine NaPoWriMo Day 25 Centos

A mouse thief, some stolen stars and a round window that is not mine

She bolted the big round window.
He didn't fight,
He hadn't fought at all.
And life slips by like a field mouse
not shaking the grass.

Tell justice of delay:
She turned it to a lovely black,
overnight, very whitely
discreetly, very quietly

she hung herself with stars,
deep as the darkest mine
the thick rocks won't tell
so, the world happened twice -
gives little light.

NaPoWriMo Day 25   Stolen lines from The Rattle Bag  A Cento (totally stolen lines, so the people who have wanted to steal some of my lines and put them to other use, go ahead)

Tuesday 24 April 2012

Sarah Beautiful Outlaw - NaPowriMo Day 24

Sarah, Beautiful Outlaw

My title.

Don't let it go.

Tiptoe by it.
Lift it.
Judge it.
Lift it.
Tiptoe by it.

Don't let it go.

My Title.

Not sure what shape this making and it so simple. Is it a poem? I am not sure?  NaPoWriMo Day 24  Still got to catch up with my tree one, but a day ahead from doing 31st March prompt anyway! x Poem not using S-a-r-a-h. Do let me know if I missed one.

Saturday 21 April 2012

Poetry circle of fatigue NaPowriMo Haynaku - Day 22

Poetry Circle of fatigue

Round
I travel
in poetry circles

Notes
scribbled down
no order apparent.

Tantrums
thrown randomly
No cause found.

Round
I travel
in lulling circles.

Sarah L Dixon NaPoWriMo Day 22 - I know it is slightly early, but I was a few days behind, so thought I would catch up with tomorrow's poem too.

Confused April - 2 short poems NaPoWriMo Day 21 Walking poems

May Blossom and hail mix in this, my confused April.


Confused April 1

You don't believe in fate
but say things will be fine
they most probably will

but this isn't stated
on the "Ways to pay" line
of the British Gas bill.

Battered, burnt out,
over the hill,
now on the coil,
too old for the pill.

Confused April 2

Given the chance, we raise our sights higher
could write a book, join the all male choir,
learn an instrument, tame this inner fire,
leave the job that makes our consciences liars.
Enjoy a pub lunch, a trip to the zoo,
a family day, avoid holiday queues.
Work doesn't dictate our lives for a while
we share a smile that's not a pay day smile.

Sarah L Dixon   NaPoWriMo Day 21  Walking poems x 2

Letter to Maryport NaPowriMo Day 20 - Epistolary poem (I think)

Letter to Maryport

Dear Maryport,
I love your sea-whipped streets
the evenings of enforced Bingo silence
in your Old Folk’s Home
the crunch of our sherbet
heard above dobber concentration.

I love family walks on your sea-wall,
we don’t notice the odd syringe
suggesting a less than perfect life
for some.

I love all the patties – potato/meat/potato
battered and fried
and free bags of greasy fish bits and salt
The breathlessness after the climb
of
Market Street
to see Great Aunties.

The call of the slot machines
and grass sleds of Silloth
a walkable distance of seven miles
felt much longer
with the hindering assistance of sand.

A donkey ride on Allonby beach,
“Avoid stray land-mines”
say the signs.

We take our empty Barr bottles back,
claim the penny for each.
We ignore the people combing the beach
for this avenue of income.

Now, when I go back to your seashore
I notice poverty the young and protected me
never saw.

A desperation in the coddled eyes
of the last old men who used to work the sea.

epistolary poem - day 20 NaPoWriMo  Sarah L Dixon - quite notey at the moment!

Thursday 19 April 2012

Single Extractions+Ruler Stones (opposite poem of Double Dips+Swizzel sticks) NaPoWriMo Day 19

Opposite poem

Single extractions and Ruler Stones

The Ruler dump falls ashamed,
extracting noisy skies of
blue diamonds - boiling seas,
fields, crabs and avoiders
those dank summer evenings.

Japalpeno peppers sound like Pop,
their green blandness discourages you.

I celebrate hats emptied of talc,
spit silent stones as I tiptoe further from home.

9 hate-stones repelled by 3 inches of lead
taken from a girl I always touched.

Summer. Dump pilferers
sucked from the houses,
dawdle out as hot ash finishes rising.
sandpaper disturbs slow hands
(even yesterday)

we leave foreign lands to smear on
the smooth, savoury
adult nightmares.

Rulers feather-empty
pace impatient
for toes and bottoms to unstick.

See the original below, published in the Ugly Tree in 2007, that was tonnes of fun. Particularly like "sandpaper disturbs slow hands (even yesterday)" and "smooth savoury adult nightmares" "extracting noisy skies of blue diamonds" and the fact passers-by becomes avoiders. Thanks for that prompt NaPoWriMo
.
Double Dips and Swizzel Sticks
The Ugly Tree 2007

The Swizzels factory stands proud,
billowing silent clouds of
pink sherbet - frosting land,
houses, cows and passers-by
these crisp winter mornings.

Parma-violets taste of Nanna,
their purple tang reassures me.

We worry about stockings filled with soot,
chew Drumsticks as we yammer homeward.

Six Love-hearts sellotaped to a three-foot card
handed to a boy I never held.

Christmas. Factory workers
pour on to streets,
rush home as the snow begins to fall.
A blanket undisturbed by eager feet
(Until tomorrow)

They go home to wash off
the sticky sweetness
of children’s dreams.
                                            Swizzels pillow-fill,
wait
patiently
                           for fingers and faces to glue.



Mother's Lullaby Day 18 NapoWriMo Lullaby

Mother's Lullaby

It's okay
It's alright
My little frankle
It will be fine

Jaffa cakes!
Got a light?
Strong mug of Kenco,
glass of wine?

It's alright
My little frankle
It will be fine
It's okay

Got a light!
Strong mug of Kenco?
Glass of wine,
Jaffa cakes

My little Frankle
It will be fine
It's okay
It's alright

Strong mug of Kenco!
Glass of wine?
Jaffa cakes,
got a light?

It will be fine
It's okay
It's alright
My little frankle

Glass of wine!
Jaffa cakes?
Got a light,
strong mug of Kenco?

Mother's Lullaby - NaPoWriMo Day 18  Lullaby  The first part of this is my Frank lullaby and it seems to calm him, so I thought I would add a Mother's mantra into the repetition.

Tuesday 17 April 2012

Strange Rain (part 2) #seacreatureweather

Strange rain (part 2)

Today, the sea fell from the sky
in the way I hoped it would
when I first saw diagrams of water tables

If rain always meant a surprise of sea-creatures,
I would wade through whelk,
to sashay with a stingray, have thrills with the krill
observe the oysters
and rejoice with a porpoise.

I am showered with sharks,
re-born as a prawn
take a torrent of turbot, a wetness of whales,
an earthquake of hake and some galeforce seahorses
Today, the river fell from the sky
A damp smog of frogs,
thudercrack of natterjacks,
a blizzard of lizards.

I am excited as a two-year old
who knows rain
means puddles and ducks.


Sarah L Dixon   Ocean poem Day 17 NaPoWriMo   - Spot the hashtag game addict!! Now I just have to goad people into  #seacreatureweather

Monday 16 April 2012

Work wishes - a sonnet of sorts Day 16 NaPoWriMo

Work Wishes

For ten stretching hours of every long day
I take paper, print doctor's details on it.
I could be penning a Petrarchan sonnet,
finger-painting, modelling pliant clay.
I would have more creative dragons to slay
but am stung by the cash-earning hornet
that takes us to offices, labs, Comet,
have food to but, shelter to warm, bills to pay.

If I could dictate my day in the sun
if I could transcribe my wishes instead
if I could fax my fate and copy a spell,
rhyme bulldog clips and romance the hole-punch
if I could type up desires from my head
to hone lost words into a villanelle

I would.

Sarah L Dixon    Day 16 - The NaPoWriMo sonnet It hadn't ended so I had to add another two words. Also I want to work on it more, but need to go bed now - another six o clock get up after ten days of leisure. Back to workm can't you tell?

Sunday 15 April 2012

Byron bit me - in style of Jenny kiss'd me parody poem Day 15 prompt

Byron bit me

Byron bit me when we met,
jumped, punched the air I stood in;
Lord, you sneak, who love to collect
the feats of your fist, put that in!
Say I'm shady, say I'm mad,
say that Yeats and Wordsworth hit me.
Say I'm writing gold, but add,
Byron bit me.

Sarah L Dixon  NaPoWriMo     Day 15   The parody poem  sonnet tomorrow as day 16

Ghazal of other worlds - Day 14 Prompt - A Ghazal

Ghazal of other worlds

The power of imagination takes us where no-on else can follow
I plan worlds with monsters and charcoal. Countless adventures follow.

I track the path of the the young, scarred boy from Godric's Hollow
to Hogwarts. Even in the hunt for the final Horcrux, I must follow.

Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin leave The Shire, pursued by Gollum,
travel to the fires of Mount Doom, throw the ruling ring in. Gollum follows.

To Aslan and The White Witch of Snow, Edmund and Lucy go.
In the wardrobe of my mind a passage through black clothes. I follow.

The Mighty Boosh take me on a journey: Howard, Vince, Naboo and Bollo,
to fields of gothness, to the Moon, to forests of jazz that I can't follow.

Sarah L Dixon     GHAZAL prompt Day 14 

Friday 13 April 2012

Beauty, a homophonic translation of Oleh Lysheha's Bear NaPoWriMo Day 13

Beauty

Nobody burns mice,
kotchy kitchy,
or eats crab pasta.

Mercury has no memory,
binary no birth-name.
and me, tender Gemini,
any X impulse honour
my biscuit home altogether.

Epochs bring panthers only.

I anticipate the 3 conjurers
I imitate immune parrots
and take ice hair to comb.

Tempers ache in yaks
and Helicobacter yawn.

Tomorrow, banana my night, companion.
Illogical hyacinth for height.


I chose a Japanese poem to start with, but decided I would just write what I wanted from that, then looked at French or Italian but I knew enough words to clour my interpretation. I settled on a Ukranian poet, as learnt Russian for one term in third year hugh school and knew that an H is sounded like an N and many other letters were different to the way we would pronounce them so it gave me a freer rein.

Sarah L Dixon    NaPoWriMo Day 13 Homophonic poem

Thursday 12 April 2012

Eighth Day Cafe Day 12 - Senses poem

Eighth Day Café

I expect Dominic Berry to echo from the walls,
to be reflected in the tables
as Manchester’s Premier gay, vegan poet.

There was a time Dom was at every event
I stood and quivered at,
and I wish I bought a ticket for “Wizard”.
I miss him with his overblown actions,
his genuine pleasure at seeing a familiar face.
I wish I was one of the appreciative horde
singing his praises for once.

As I taste the faint lentil
of Aduki beans in my tomato soup
I hear him recite “Tomorrow, I WILL go dancing”
and I have my Dominic fix

My chlorine hair and my resolve to eat well
after a kilometre breast-stroke
bring me to this place
like a friendly, sparsely-lit school canteen.

I write with water-wrinkled fingers
under the table,
watch as people at the tables interact in the old way.
A “student” reading text highlighted with orange marker
to match his hair and the patches on his jumper
that I suspect are not a fashion statement.

As I finish my beetroot and hummus roll
and drain my organic apple juice
I crave sex, chocolate and deep-fried chicken
am tempted to upturn the sea-salt onto my tongue,
stuff my mouth with butter pats.
I crave the kerdinck of Twitter and BBM.

A noisy, dancing group of eight staff
enjoy a group hug and their smiles
infect me
I leave carrying a smile
and faint scent of Aduki beans
to St Peter’s Square tram-stop


Sarah L Dixon   NaPoWriMo  - Day 12 Senses poem

Food diary - Day 11 (First Line) NaPoWriMo

Food diary

You say I measure my moments in meals,
you may be right.

Every Sunday hangover
“a well-made Full English”
and Eastenders at my flat or yours.
Our first trip to the coast
“a tightly-wrapped chippy”
an insane sea-breeze and laughter.

Complete indulgence – a block of Dairy Milk toastie,
comfort to get over you.

We get back together at my house-warming,
I make a multi-cultural meal for Chinese New Year
poppadom starter, toffee bakewell + custard pudding,
stir fry noodle and fortune cookies.

Jalfrezis as I get to know the other Dixons
at The Royal Sangam
learn to blow out the sambucca before drinking.

Cheese + pastry wrapped sausages in Barcelona,
we never learnt the name of,
were served by pointing, saying “due, per favour”

Pasta and wine in the back streets of Rome
with a strange ring happily on my left hand.
The al fresco barbecue at our zoo wedding
with the genius of no table plan.

Honeymoon a fortnight of lost food memories,
possible pasties and paninis
in Conwy, Hastings, Hereford and Worthing.
An Oxford pub lunch, Lyme Regis seafood feast,
a roast and Premier League football in Weymouth.
A breakfast basket in the garret of a Marble Arch hostel.
Lee Ho Focks for beef chow mein,
in Warren Zevon-style off
Leicester Square
.

We stay in a Norfolk Chapel House,
a local pub asks us for suggestions.
I write the word “PIE” in Northern contempt
of a place professing to have Pub Fayre –
but not offering pie!

You say I measure my moments in meals,
you may be right


Sarah L Dixon     Day 11 First Line - My line " On the morning after the house-warming party" from Zoom! by Simon Armitage, I used it then discarded when the poem was realising itself.

Tuesday 10 April 2012

My Blue Marble - NaPoWriMo Day 10 Persona poem

My Blue Marble

At the age of 37, my wife gave birth to my first child
and I walked on the moon.
The letter came to my office in Flagstaff,
I knew the timing was bad, but I would go.

My life before NASA was spent mostly in caves,
we joked I would cope well with the darkness of space,
but in those three days in December ’72,
there was plenty of strange light and so little sleep.

People say I should take up a hobby,
but I can’t play chess, or golf, or collect stamps.
I look up to the sky
and judge every decision,
measure every choice I make,
against your wonder.

Now, I dream at least twice a week
of traipsing lightly on your surface
I took that photo of The Earth,
was the first to look through that view-finder
and see our Blue Marble.

Every moon-full night
I gaze at the bare beauty of your face,
384,403 miles away, but still more real to me
than any human features.

People say you are grey,
but I know your subtle hues,
your distinctive features.
People tell me I am starting to age,
I need glasses, am grey at the temples.

I spend a lot of time alone, outdoors
bird-watching and gardening
looking up to the sky.

I miss the Norwegian fjords too,
but it is your surface I hunger for.
I read the inadequacy
in everyone who hasn’t met you.
My eyes fix on their failures

I was the last person to step on to the moon,
but not the last to leave.
I still belong there.

Sarah L Dixon - Day 10    NaPoWriMo Persona poem

Monday 9 April 2012

Strange rain takes me home - Day 9 - NaPoWriMo Go outside prompt

Strange rain takes me home

Leeds, V98 - in the silent morning field
I hear the strange rain pelt
my canvas, this lulls me back
to sleeping-bag half-sleep.

Keele, Summer 1998,
I can smell the petrocore
of strange rain and hot campus concrete
as I doze on the last afternoon
the drinking and studying
of an OU Summer school week
leave little time for sleeping.

Paphos, Cyrpus, Late September 2000
Among the dance-deep town
we are glad to find a rock bar
and they bring us a free liqueur every two beers,
we leave late and I am relieved
at the strange rain drops heavily on mosquito bites.

Wanaka, NZ, November 2004,
I taste the strange rain, happily.
Yesterday, I was in an empty dorm,
when the world moved.
I lay on the ground and watched
as locals continued their lives
as the road and trees shook with a quake.

Honeymoon, Weymouth, September 2007
after Match of the Day and a carvery
at the local, we return to our room,
watch the stunning Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
on a B+B TV not made for viewing films of such majesty.
We wake in the night to watch the wind and strange rain
obscure our sea-view with impressive force.

Sarah L Dixon   Day 9   NaPoWriMo

Sunday 8 April 2012

Green World - NaPoWriMo Day 8 - Colour poem

Green World

Alicia asked us to wear green for her hen do
the combination of handbags, tights, waistcoats,
hairbands and dresses brought together in witchiness
was a world-altering concotion.

The next day all we can see is green.
We lean on walls that are sloth-green with moss or lichen
to consider our new emerald world.
Alicia says she doesn’t like green anymore.

Green cars suddenly become as lucky as four-leaved clovers
as they are the only ones we can drive.
 Motorways are no longer functional
"A" roads are the way to go if you follow the signs

The khaki of army store jackets from college days
fills the streets
suddenly found decades later in empty wardrobes

Asda has a monopoly
as people rush to buy up ingredients
for lime, cucumber and kiwi smoothies,
asparagus and courgette pesto with spinach pasta,
apples, grapes and Devonshire custard.
The custard is fine as long as you add
emerald food colouring
before placing it in a forest green bowl.
I thank Walkers for making Salt+Vinegar crisps green,
after years of feeling this was wrong, not just the packet,
they made the crisps green too.

Green tea sales soar.

But once we buy up the green food
we must return to the pea-green daylight, eerie
like a giant fly incinerator left on in an otherwise empty office

Our soundtrack is limited
to Shakin' Steven's “Green Door”, Will Young’s “Evergreen”
and thankfully The Village Green Preservation Society by the Kinks.
Our viewing choices are Green Wing, The Green Mile
and Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistlestop Cafe

Graham Greene, The Green Lantern and Lavinia Greenlaw,
Green Eggs and Ham and Anne of Green Gables
lie on the ground where the bookshelves used to stand

My eyes colour green with anger and confusion - flash brightly for a few seconds.

Sarah L Dixon   Day 8                 NaPoWriMo

Saturday 7 April 2012

Feeding the Invaders - Day 7 NaPoWriMo animal poem

Feeding the Invaders          NapoWriMo            Day 7

The alternative would be to open our doors to toads and magpies, snakes, hawks and woodlouse spiders,
in the spirit of the woman who swallowed the fly.

Instead, after tea, dishes and making our lunches and five sugar-free jellies to soothe Frank's sore throat,
Then, I set to feeding the invaders.

I stuff shredded paper and last week's flowers in the corner the pill woodlouse likes, where no-one goes
and where it doesn't feel the need to contort it's carapace into a protective ball of antiquity.

I leave the mice toastcrumbs, peanut butter and three types of cheese
in the hope they won't touch my good, dark, unopened chocolate

set out a row of aphids on my rubber plant for the ladybird's pleasure

chop the Portobello mushrooms thinly to ease the slug's digestion

then I strip naked and fall asleep on top of the duvet offering all my skin
to the hot bite of the mosquito


Sarah L Dixon

Friday 6 April 2012

Back at The Diamond - softball poem NaPoWriMo Day 6

Back at the diamond

A diamond drawn in fresh white powder
makes this more adult than childhood rounders

the new season's cleats slice through grass,
release this Summer's scent en masse

swallows criss-cross the weed-strewn pitch
inches above my resting mitt

marked with my team names - Renegades,
Rangers, Centurions, Clanger Brigade.

Dad said "you can't throw, run or catch
why would you play in a softball match?"

encouragement had me running home
this was never a feat I achieved on my own

an outfielder that can't throw the distance
laidback second, but there in an instant

on first base, trusted and terrified
I make a catch, that make winners of our side


Sarah L Dixon

Thursday 5 April 2012

A tipsy, tidy pause - Wedding 1 2012 NaPoWriMo Day 5 not the Blues

A tipsy, tidy pause

I take my new clothes, bold hair
and my newly mastered contact lenses
off to Edinburgh.

To The Royal College of Surgeons
for a short ceremony with Matt and Alicia's personal vows.
Then a celidih and a disco,
only two songs I know the words to,
but I dance and dance
and flirt and dance
and enjoy my friends, my husband
and my newfound confidence.

I miss my boy
but revel in reclaiming womanhood.

No carrot crusted hair
no yoghurt smudges on my dress
no ketchup scumbled on my cheek.

Woman, not mother, for a weekend.

A tipsy, tidy pause.

Wednesday 4 April 2012

Day 4 - 2 weddings this year - The Epithalamion

Two weddings this year

Two weddings this year
one traditional, one modern.
As a poet
I am glad neither couple
asked me to write an
epithalamion
because I would have no idea
what they meant
or how to spell it
and I don't write to order.


Sarah L Dixon      NaPoWriMo   Day 4

Tuesday 3 April 2012

Phil Lynott was three years too late NaPoWriMo Day 3

Phil Lynott was three years too late

I know it was Abba.
The "Dancing Queen" of every 70s disco
every "Love Train" of my teenage years.
The song that heralded my early arrival
and then imprisoned me on full dancefloors.

I imagine "Sarah" was my birth song.
That slow Thin Lizzy bounce
recall the noisy mechanism
and comforting hum of the Dancette.

I can't tell Dad I cracked his single
instead I force it flat
and there is only a slight heartskip
every revolution.


Sarah L Dixon                   Na PoWriMo Day 3

Monday 2 April 2012

My Salford whirlwind
for Melanie Rees

My Salford whirlwind, blazing blue eyes, tight blonde curls
Make-up met none, my trainers scuffed your 6 inch heels
and now you prop my world up with your words
My Salford whirlwind, blazing blue eyes, tight blonde curls
We cry at each other’s poems about loss and birth    
Hug as others finish the words we can’t read real.
My Salford whirlwind, blazing blue eyes, tight blonde curls
Make-up met none, my trainers scuffed your 6 inch heels

Sunday 1 April 2012

a small but significant victory NaPoWriMo Day 1 Carpe Diem poem

a small but significant victory

Feverish fingers held lightly
as sleep ambushes
your damp pinkness.

I make vows to myself
to grab tomorrow and throttle words from it
(to do this every day for a month)

To feed the part of me
that devotes itself to your easy laughter.
Lost to illness for now.

I compose a small, short victory
of twelve lines
as you sleep and twirl and sleep again.



Sarah L Dixon