Channeling Dead Poets


Channeling Dead Poets

I’m still sleeping and

in the middle of a really good dream

while floating down a beautiful river

without oars in a grade one free flow covered with magical genie dust;

kind of like fairy dust

but you pick yours and I’ll pick mine.

AND I’m writing my poem

because that is where I do my best writing.

AND I believe in finishing what I start

So I’m planning on starting tonight

with a tantalizing sweet tangy snack of dried tropical papaya

and the most amazing

Wild Sweet Orange herbal tea this side of Kahaluu

followed closely by a discourse

on the fundamentals of

writing A Poem A Day at NIGHT

AND to get the thing jump started

I’ll drink my amazing herbal infusion tea out of my famous poets mug

the Academy of American Poets mug that inspires me to write every day with passion and to read it all, out loud.

To deliver with flair, that which is given to me by that grand muse, who is really a rather large  flying cockroach that I’ve named Oscar that lives in the coconut palm with a small rat family of three, who I haven’t named, at the foot of the tropical fish pond, fronting the looming Koolau mountain range, on this crisp April Hawaiian night.

The Mug which honors great poets like Emily, William and Edgar, whose words spout from a well as cold and as clear as a mountain spring. Waking me in the dead of night to deliver rich pithy text to an otherwise blank white page and I do forgive them, for they have absolutely no sense of time in their nether world, and I am imploring them to speak now—so I can go back to sleep, and being a genial and polite sort I’m only insisting on one thing-just make it good.

So despite better judgment, they decide to have another go with the dim-witted; head-to-head, heart-to-heart only to find that something always seems to get Lost in Translation or Cloudy with a Chance of Ravioli an implied serious kind of humor carefully slipped in while dreaming of river

rafting without oars

or an engine.  So I am reading the signs and always the Girl Scout will do as I’m told and finish what I start so I can earn the merit badge because golly gee Auntie EM, I just need this one and then I’ll have the whole row, and besides next year I’ll be too old and will outgrow those ruby slippers and wizard fantasies and have to start on something new.

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