13 thoughts on “Conversion Poem”

  1. Big hair
    Shades of hazel
    Mocha
    Not Dirt
    and Sand
    Ringlets
    Garland
    Not string
    or static
    Plush
    Halo
    Pulled by thick winds
    Scattered
    Texture to the tips
    Bushes with berries
    and flowers that glisten
    Ends boing
    Roots kink
    Bobble snaps

  2. from the mud
    I help save the canoes
    quietly nervous, afraid,
    my feet squish through the mud.

    Mom still remembers her Camp friends,
    will I?

    Scrambled
    Cooked over a campfire
    Made only with water
    Brownies

    I was ready to go. Maybe.
    A vibrant headband
    Short, sandy brown hair
    I was tiny

    I am about to experience what my family had been praising
    for years
    following in the footsteps of two generations
    beginning an excursion full of mystery
    Trail

    maybe they are just here for history’s sake
    are the canoes ever all used at once?
    I wonder…
    I wondered, at the time
    about the people behind the names
    on the canoes
    future generations may wonder about
    this photo album, guest book
    years worth of history

    due to the feet of small children
    the earth is unable to sprout grass
    the canoes sit, wait
    in the mud.

    the canoes appear
    shiny and new
    yet the camp is old, really old

    they meet the crumbling stone wall
    the ones farthest from my tiny toes
    lean against one another.
    glistening orange stripes
    wide aluminum canoes
    ________________________________________________
    For this exercise, I adapted my unit poem:

    wide aluminum canoes
    with glistening orange stripes
    lean against one another.
    the ones farthest from my tiny toes
    meet the crumbling stone wall

    the camp is old, really old
    yet the canoes appear
    shiny and new
    display the names of accomplished leaders

    in the mud,
    they sit, wait
    the earth unable to sprout grass
    due to the feet of small children

    years worth of history,
    a photo album, a guest book
    future generations may wonder about
    the people behind the names
    on the canoes.
    I wondered, at the time
    I wonder now
    if the canoes are ever all used at once
    or if they are just here for history’s sake

    trail:
    an excursion full of mystery
    following in the footsteps of two generations
    I am about to experience what my family had been praising
    for years

    I was tiny.
    short, sandy brown hair
    a vibrant headband
    I was ready to go. Maybe.

    brownies
    made only with water
    cooked over a campfire
    scrambled

    the routes, tents, new lifelong friendships
    Mom still remembers her Camp friends,
    will I?

    my feet squish in the mud.
    quietly nervous, afraid, but
    I help save the canoes
    from the mud

  3. Original Poem:

    The Hamster Wheel

    I wake up and instantly try to go back. The light is too bright & the sun hurts my sleepy blue eyes. I force myself to leave the solace of my house. Get in the car. Pick up the groceries. Observe the morning commute. People, like ants in a colony. On the sidewalk, driving their cars, the occasional retiree, free from the chains of unfulfilling work. But what is my purpose? It has to be more than this. Life has to be more than this. I get back in my beat-down twenty-four year old car making yet another seemingly expensive new noise. Tik-tik-tik. Like me, it will soon explode. Like me, nobody knows when. Like me, nobody knows why. Nobody knows.

    Ballad Form: The Hamster Wheel

    I wake up and want to go back to bed.
    I do not want to leave my solace to greet people everywhere.
    I greet this day with nothing but dread.
    My life has become a never ending hamster wheel that has me in a snare.

  4. Trees.
    Lost.
    Patient.
    Night.
    Vastness.
    Something.
    In.
    The.
    Echoes.
    Air.
    Breathes.
    You,
    Breathe.
    Spotlight.
    Darkness.
    Holding.
    Holding.
    Dust.
    Darkness.
    You.
    Dust.
    Darkness.
    You.
    Get.
    Up.
    I.
    Lost.
    Either.
    Way.
    So,
    Get.
    Up.
    Only.
    This.
    Darkness.
    Dust.
    You.

  5. Cinquain on Basquiat

    A face
    Gnashing its teeth
    Frankensteinian thing
    Catharsis of confrontation
    Say it

  6. Conversion:

    F
    L
    O
    A
    T
    I
    N
    G
    along.
    begging to be known
    but just can’t seem to
    escape the fog
    this isn’t somewhere i can navigate anymore
    turn left here
    turn right here
    continue straight along the path
    stay on the route
    continue along the route
    proceed to the route
    where am i?
    howling through the wind
    too many guiding lines
    none meant for me
    which is my path?
    will people ever know me again?

    Original:
    Floating along
    Begging to be known
    But can’t seem to
    Escape the fog.
    This isn’t somewhere
    I can navigate anymore
    Where am i?
    Howling through the wind
    Too many guiding lines
    None meant for me
    Which is my path?
    Will people ever know me again?

  7. How To Prepare for: April O
    h
    There might be
    n
    o
    w
    a
    y.
    April.

    original haiku
    How to prepare for
    April April April Oh
    There might be no way

  8. Conversion Poem:

    Open your eyes and take hold of the wheel
    Turn left or right

    1. If you turned left pay the fee—
    To enter the underwater highway,
    Submerge yourself in the infinite blue
    Look left or right
    a. If you looked left listen—
    To the ring of the bell above the door
    Savor the break from the traffic
    Delight in the submarine diner
    Continue forward
    b. If you looked right knock—
    On the door of your childhood home
    Yearn for the days spent in this clamshell home
    Treasure your parents’ embrace
    Continue forward

    2. If you turned right release your parachute—
    To join the traffic of the sky-high railway,
    Plummet alongside your fellow passengers
    Look left or right
    a. If you looked left turn—
    To talk to the commuter beside you
    Listen to their tales and make them your own
    Decide on where to land in the ground rapidly approaching
    Continue forward
    b. If you looked right rest—
    To gather your energy for the journey ahead
    Lay your head on the clouds around you
    Awake after just a moment
    Continue forward

    3. If you continued forward—
    Or if you never turned
    Or if you never looked
    Direct your gaze downward
    a. If you directed your gaze downward
    Face the end of infinity—
    At which point a hungry whale will meet you
    And swallow you whole
    b. If you failed to follow these directions
    Or failed to make a choice
    Read 3a

    Original Poem:
    The underwater highway
    Is endless, infinite
    The toll to enter,
    A mighty fee

    Diners in the shape of submarines
    Homes in the inners of shells
    Will dot your journey
    As you move toward eternity

    At the end of infinity
    Is a hungry whale
    Who will swallow you whole
    If you don’t feed him clams

  9. speak ——-what
    to ————lands
    open——- exsist
    tongue——- in
    they’re——- the
    on————- mouths
    ————–of
    pools ———- our
    in ————–muses
    blood ———-histories
    teeth ————etched
    in —————– teeth
    etched ———— blood
    histories ———–in
    muses ————–
    are ——————pools
    of ——————–on
    mouths ————-their
    their —————–tongue
    exists —————open to
    lands —————-speak

    original:
    what lands exist
    in the mouths of our muses
    histories etched in
    teeth
    blood in a pool on their tongue
    open to speak

  10. speak what
    to lands
    open exsist
    tongue in
    they’re the
    on mouths
    of
    pools our
    in muses
    blood histories
    teeth etched
    in teeth
    etched blood
    histories in
    muses
    are pools
    of on
    mouths their
    their tongue
    exists open to
    lands speak

    original:
    what lands exist
    in the mouths of our muses
    histories etched in
    teeth
    blood in a pool on their tongue
    open to speak

  11. Conversion Poem: Concrete Jail [Sunshine Freedom]
    haze [light] creeps across the pavement [ocean]
    is this a wall [sunset] or a moat [sunrise]?
    gray [orange] cages me in [embraces me] from all sides
    resist the fight or flight [accept the warmth and salt]
    it’s just a road [beginning]

    Original Poem: Concrete Jail
    haze creeps across the road
    is this a wall or an moat?
    gray cages me in from all sides
    resist the fight or flight
    it’s just a road

  12. darling fool

    d
    at twilight
    r
    l
    I can proMise
    n e
    g r
    c
    u
    and Mars
    y

    s
    t
    all will be alright in
    r c
    l r
    intangible as vows
    g w
    h n
    t
    o
    u
    r
    with constellations
    e
    let’s just dance
    v
    e
    as fools

    adapted from a sonnet for last week, Darlings and Fools:
    At twilight, darling, would you sit with me
    Upon a rooftop right under the stars?
    So high that you could reach for Mercury
    And with that grasping hand you’d capture Mars?
    If I can promise you the skies will clear,
    That all suggestion of this rain will fade,
    That all will be alright when I am near,
    Then would you dance with me till we’re unmade
    By slanted starlight falling on our brows?
    We’d be such fools to crown ourselves with light–
    Intangible, like heavy blade-sworn vows
    Of kneeling knight to queen, like distant night,
    A constellation made for memory.
    Oh, darling, would you be a fool with me?

  13. Meditations at a Crossroads (original)
    Love seeds from a pumpkin.
    Symmetric stems and sinuous shoulders.
    Made reaching. Desire for hurt for hunger
    Children spread as fish on the waves,
    Breath on the breeze.
    Luminous father who salts the earth
    For blackberry pods to burst in the mouth
    Of mine

    Meditations at a Crossroads: A Series of Haiku

    The pumpkin doesn’t
    Stop at one way, but slides down
    itself to seed love

    It reaches for the
    Parts of itself that are its
    Child. Infinity.

    That is caught by fish
    Who are caught by wind, and were
    Thrown back into earth

    By a gentle hand
    Covered in salt and juice and
    Love for the many

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