These poems were written in the Thursday Morning Writing Circle on December 15, 2016. Inspiration came from snippets of poetry by Billy Collins, from his collection "The Rain in Portugal." The title of each poem here is a phrase by Mr. Collins.
"On the 17th Floor," by Barbara Cartwright
On the 17th floor of my life, three primroses bloom inside a hat I haven’t seen for years.
On the 17th floor of my heart, a piece breaks off but right away begins to grow right back again, without telling me.
On the 17th floor of a personal essay I am reading, the author makes a confession that causes me to toss his book into the fireplace to smoke out his words.
On the 17th floor of a blade of grass, a grasshopper is swaying back and forth, forth and back, waiting for peace on earth and other crap like that.
On the 17th floor of the sun outside my house, men in asbestos suits fire asteroids in a gigantic purple kiln and throw them over their shoulders and out the window when they’re ready and done.
On the 17th floor of the carpet in my living room is a little tiny sign that points with an arrow to the right to Flatterland.
On the 17th floor of a certain gateau de poire I am making lie nestled three gold orbs with magical powers.
On the 17th floor of a wish I once had sits an anxious fidgety genie waiting for three magic words…
watching me make a complicated cake,
hoping he’ll get the chance to go to Flatterland,
wondering why the sun spews random bits of pottery all day long,
laughing at the empty ideals of the grasshopper,
agreeing that the author of the essay is an inflated ass,
vowing to break off bigger and bigger pieces of my heart, and
smug with the knowledge that with just one snap of his long and bony fingers he can will a primrose into flower, even in a hat.
===
"The Story Remains to be Told," by Stacey Murphy
If you go to the sea
Go in pieces.
Scatter your bits
Into the foam
Let them fall and roll away
As dawn breaks orange and quiet.
If you go to the sea
Go in trust.
Stand waist deep
Facing the shore
As the shifting sand buries your feet
And the waves at your back surprise you.
If you go to the sea
Go with a child.
Fall in the dunes
To make sand-angels
And hold seaweed hands as you jump
Wave after wave after wave.
If you go to the sea
Go with your story.
Watch the horizon,
Endless and comforting,
And know more remains to be told
As the sun sets orange and peaceful.
===
Out of Nowhere, by Rob Sullivan
long distance call
broke heavy silence
sharp upstart to ennui
little time or space
to take it all in
to focus on the big picture
to hear melody underlying
call to return
cease and desist
stop, drop and roll
from burning desire
to come back
serene once more
simply simple
breathe deep, exhale deeper
pause and examine
observe with intention
love now crowds fear
moonset to sunrise
awaken from the dream
step out of the picture show
when presented with a gift
say thank you
if a wish fulfilling gem appears
say yes
no discussion or hesitation
only cherish and honor
path will become clear
engender surrender
celebrate what it takes
perchance your dance
never stopped, ever bopped
beat goes on, greet the song
do the stroll of your soul
answer: Yes Sir!
