May 2018

  Full moon of the other night;
last night or
                      the one before,
almost full tonight.
  Little differences day by day,
incremental changes
             shift our way.
When suddenly the perfect sphere
  suffers a dent, or a bite.
        Another phase for which
  they do not name,
a Crescent Moon will often change
      until nothing is there, save
a New Moon, which you don’t see
   anyway,
           but you will see it soon.
                 We mark our days
       by the light of the moon,
which, realistically, generates none,
relying instead on far-reaching Sun.
   Another topic any way,
      one to be explored
                              by the light of day.

05/31/2018                                     j.g.l.

Poem Kubili has its limitations. A game at heart, really, a challenge to include two words – not of your choice – in a poem you should be proud to call your own.

The two words are not, however, a muse; a muse is so much more, and need not be expanded upon for art is found in expression, and not in explanation. Two words are only pawns, only, in this game (to award them any higher status would make a mockery of the process).

Perhaps as one who partakes in the game (but also in the craft of poetry) I may therefore also be a pawn, but for the sake of the game I accept these boundaries (which also include the inability to lay down your words in the format they were intended; the Facebook format deters line length and layout, and line break).

Nonetheless, I play the game.

I play the game once a week. To play the game any more often is to infringe on what you want to do, because there are things you have to do (don’t we all, already, do this enough in every day life?).

Shouldn’t poetry be more than a game in the short time we are allowed on this earth? Can poetry not be a challenge in itself? It is a challenge that should be enjoyed, I think, but I play the game, still
preferring to be a poet and not a player.

I still play the game, and I am saddened, especially today, because what I want to say will not fit between the lines.

The poem I wrote this week will not fit into the space (no matter how hard I try) without cutting and changing, rejecting or rearranging ideas and phrases. This week I find there is not enough room to allow each word to wander, and not enough space to direct the thoughts without compromise.

Words have a way, and words can get away on you, not matter how you edit and format; if you cut too much, the essence of all you have written is whittled away, and isn’t that the ultimate compromise?

A poem means what you want it to mean, but if you strip away the meaning, is it even a poem?

This week my poem, my words (including the required two) can be found on my home page at:

mythosandmarginalia.com

Thank you for reading.
-j-

Plans, projections, anticipated

results or expectations don’t

always happen when or as they

should (or at all for that matter).

Who knows why, or how, but

on any given day, without notice,

you are going to fuck up.

It happens.

Repeat after me:

shit happens.

You can question why, rage at

the moon, or have a good cry,

but none of that is going to correct

what has happened. 

Yeah, you might learn a lesson

or three, but lessons don’t help

unless you put them into practice.

So try again.

It’s. That. Simple.

You’ve already made the major

mistake(s), so what else can go wrong?

Dry your tears, take a deep breath,

and try again. If you want to rage,

tonight’s full moon gives you a great

big target, but let it out and

be done with it.

Rest up and try again tomorrow.

It’s that simple.

 

05/29/2018 j.g.l

Something doesn’t have to occupy all of your time to be fully appreciated.
A song on the radio can remind you how spectacular the entire album can be, one solitary poem may indicate how a powerful a complete volume of a poet’s work is, and just a few hours with a close friend will remind you how valuable that friendship has been to your life.
You don’t have to eat the whole cake to know how delicious it is.
It gets more difficult in these fast-moving times to find a place for all things that bring you joy and fulfillment. Take a moment whenever you can, bite by bite, to enjoy the people and pastimes that nourish your soul.

05/28/2018                                      j.g.l.