Morning Newsbreak

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The 5:00 am thud,

my front porch newspaper.

When will this sound disappear

from my listening landscape?

Like the comfort

of sounds, predictable life

before the robots were made.

When hands held headlines

faithful objects, a lifeline

of interpretation on paper thinness

read in gentle openness

played at morning speed of drowsy slow

accompanied by the aroma of coffee.

The illusion of a day with

news within my control.

© Ali Grimshaw 2018

“It is difficult to get the news from poems yet men [and women] die miserably every day for lack of what is found there.”—William Carlos Williams

13 Ways to Support Poetry – guest blog post by Dick Allen  – A great article with specific ways to keep poetry alive in the world.

dVerse OpenLinkNight #218 If you are looking for a community of poets you can find one here.

National Poetry Month – Fall in love with a poet.

 

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Squeeze

What is the point of this adrenaline

if not to catch a falling baby,

escape from a lion or revive a drowning man?

Where can all of this feeling go?  I want a place for it.

A drawer, a box, a shelf, a treasure chest, the trunk of a car

maybe an large envelope to mail it far away.

Away from me. Where I am not the one.

Draw another name from the hat, surely she is stronger.

How am I to hold this prickling, burning weight,

vibrational surge, flaming fingertips?

Pressure builds until this little teapot

blows her steam.

© Alicia Grimshaw 2017