What are you doing in there?

Is it a dance recital
Or are you practicing a martial art?

What is it like to live
Entirely upside down, feet in my ribs?

Do you really get to taste
A little of every thing I eat?

Can you hear my singing
Over the rush of blood through the placenta?

Are those hiccups hurting you
When you have them for over a minute?

Do you dream in color
Or are there only soundscapes and emotions?

Bronchitis While Pregnant

Breathing and not breathing,
Stuffy but clear enough,
Inside bigger than the outside.

Brain foggy from lack of oxygen getting in.
Or is it lack of iron to move it around?
Same difference, to the bloodstream.

Is that chest tightness
The swelling from the microbes
Or the baby pushing the diaphragm?


Cough out all the mucous (and air),
Then try not breathe too deeply or too fast while refilling the lungs
Lest the coughing start up all over again.

Drink more water, and tea.
Yes, even more than before,
So be ready for twice as many bathroom visits.

Have a snack.
It's been over an hour since the last one, after all.
Maybe something warm to help soothe the throat.


Relax, but not too much.
The wrong angle makes it worse:
The coughing, the back pain, the tight-yet-loosening tendons.

Rest, but don't sit still too long.
Gotta stretch all those shifting joints and muscles
Or there will be no unassisted movement later.

Sleep, but only in short increments.
There's too much coughing and peeing and stretching
To manage a nap of meaningful length.


To conclude:
Try to remember that
The discomfort is temporary.


I feel yucky today, but I still wanted to at least attempt some poetry. So, poetry about feeling yucky is what you get. That's life sometimes.

Farm to Cup

Walking The Farm

I make an early rise to check on the trees, inherited from father four years ago.
The rains were heavy early in the year, a good sign.
The last trees father chose should be ready for their first harvest.
His influence still covers the hillside, encouraging and intimidating me.
The workers will be arriving soon, ready to pick the bright red fruit.
Many of them knew father, mourned with us.
I wonder if they have confidence in my abilities or worry as much about the future as I do.
Then comes a few weeks of stirring, rotating, and hoping for strong sun,
until the batches are the perfect parchment.
Father had a knack for knowing when it was time.
He'd get out of bed one morning and announce,
"Ready the hulling machines."
As a child, I loved to help with the manual sorting.
I think father liked giving me a small task near so many adults,
even if my work needed checking over.
Now, my favorite part is the sisal bags stacked up and ready to go.
It feels like an end to the hard part,
but in some ways the planning between seasons is the most difficult.
That's when I wish I could still ask for father's advice.


Cupper

Nose, roast, crack, rest.
Nose, slurp, repeat.
100 tastes a day
To find the perfect blend.
Every seed has a story
Of rainfall, sun, and wind.
The attitude and altitude
Of the farmer and the land
Influence the flavors
Of the beans in my hands.
Floral, chocolate, toasty,
Tangy, acidic, sweet.


Conversation of Questions
Heya!
How are you doing?
What can I get ya?
Big or small?
Extra shot?
Room for cream?
Anything else?
Here or to go?
Do you have a punch card?
Need a reciept?
Thanks!


Cup of Clouds

Swirling clouds of cream push to the bottom,
Half settling and half mixing,
A visual for the science behind density and solutions.

Rippled edges like afternoon tide pools.
Little peaks of color fighting to find equilibrium
Between layers of mahogany, burlap, and fresh cut pine.

Take a sip or give it a spin
To see more blending, more gradations.
Until it's all one,
Or all gone.


There are a steps left out, but four poems felt like enough for a series.

Palate

Two striped shirts walk into the coffee house
one white and navy, one black and white and tweedy
It's so cute in here! (Their first visit)
Loud voices, bright and happy
Friendly, unpushy sales (after ordering coffee)
Like approachable cheerleaders
Saying y'all
More casual than business, but still professional
Friends and colleagues
Easy laughter and a short sing along
Swirling sugar and cream
Sharing a little brightness on a rainy day



Palate is a local coffee house that I love visiting, and they're actually a non-profit.

Elegy

One time, she tripped my boyfriend with her oxygen cord.
She was playful like that,
Even using her misfortune to bring joy.
And she wasn't short on misfortune,
Especially as a child,
But she still managed to find good in the bad.
Her faith helped with that,
A faith she pieced together and struggled with over the years,
Making it stronger and more genuinely held than most I've seen.
She was pretty strong in her convictions overall,
Giving careful thought and time to making a decision
And then sticking with it.
Stubbornness is this way seems to be a family trait,
Or maybe she just trained us that way by example.
She set a pretty good example in most things, I think.
I'm grateful I got to live with her a while,
Even it was a result of the same event that gave her that oxygen cord.


The NaPoWriMo.net prompt April 3 was to write an elegy centered on a little known fact or something quirky about the person. Nothing came to me yesterday, but this morning, that first line popped up. The rest kinda came tumbling after.

Haiku

Amid night's silence
I see no moonlight, and yet,
I feel her presence.

The green grasshopper
bounces endlessly against
the wall, so confused.

Lizards hide in cracks
between dirt, stone, and branches,
hoping for a meal.

Bumble bee pauses
on the vine's flowering tips,
tasting pure yellow.

As a result of living next to Busch Gardens, this is also part of my daily nature experiences:
Magnetic brakes screech,
timed ever so carefully
with humans screaming.

Happy Equinox

Learning

I have been taking a class called Learning How To Learn." It's about different techniques that can make learning easier, including ways to avoid procrastination and tricks for memorizing things. It was offered by Dr. Barbara Oakley and Dr. Terrence Sejnowski from the UC San Diego through Coursera. I have enjoyed the video lectures, short quizzes, and discussion forums. For the large assignment in the course, we are teaching others about what we learned. So I present to you three poems about learning.


The Focused and the Diffuse Modes of Learning

Learning needs focused thoughts:
intensity of new concepts.
Read and practice the problem.

Learning needs diffuse thoughts:
relaxed, creative solutions.
Put it to the back of your mind.

Learning needs both:
conscious and unconscious
working together,
making connections,
back and forth
to find the best results.

If you try too hard, you fail.
If you never concentrate, you fail.
If you can do both, you can be great.


Chunking

A chunk is a brick in a wall.
As you set each brick
and let the mortar dry,
you can stack up more.

A chunk is a link in a chain.
You can learn each concept,
link them together,
and make something to hold onto.

Sometimes, you learn the physical.
Foot here,
hand there,
eyes forward,
move feet,
learn into the turn.
Eventually, you ride the bike without thinking...too much.
You've linked the chain.

Sometimes, you learn the mental.
F is for force.
M is for mass.
A is for acceleration.
Newton is for physics.
f=ma
Eventually, you use the equation without thinking...too much.
You've built the wall.

With enough walls, you can make a building.
With enough chain links, you can make armor.
With enough equations, you can master physics.


Procrastination

Everyone procrastinates,
to make the negative feelings go away.
"That can wait another day;
for now I'd rather play."

But that only makes it worse,
with bigger problems
and bigger headaches.

Focus on the process.
Work on small parts,
just a little a day.

Focus for 25 minutes.
Work with a timer,
then five minutes of play.

Find a good place to work.
Limit the distractions,
best in a quiet place.

Cue, routine, reward, and belief.
Procrastination is all of these.
It's a habit that anyone can beat
with a little dedicated training.

Find the cue.
A text message perhaps?
Silence the thing.

Don't answer the phone;
just let it be.
Form a new routine.

The reward was the break.
It can wait
for the time relief.

To get the best results
with your new habits,
you must believe.

So don't procrastinate;
this habit can be beat.
You can find a better way
and have fewer worries.


Another MOOC learner has created a Hall Of Fame for in which to collect these final projects. If you're at all interested in Learning How To Learn or want to know more about various learning concepts, definitely go check it out here.

Overheard

He was hot... H.A.W.T.

     You're almost as tall as him.

That is not allowed,
I'm married.
I don't think we should be going to a bar.
     I tell you what,
     Go in for a practice round.
...
     No, you don't have to stop.
     That's the last thing you want to do.
Meet you on the other side.

I recorded a few lines while waiting in the airport security line, then rearranged them into a story. This is what I got.

Secrets of Perseus

Indirectly searching
for the unobservable.
The majority is the abnormal,
viewable only from the side,
noticeable only from the pull.

Did you see it too?
Maybe it's really there.


Inspired by a recent news story about astronomical mysteries.

Unexpectedly Alone

For a few moments,
I was post-apocalyptic.
In a place of many,
it was just me.

No one in the train.
No one in the hall.
No internet.
No cell phone.

Unexpectedly alone.

Not Quite Right

The meter is just not right.
The rhymes are just not right.
And now I've rhymed
the same word twice.

Either too simple,
or too contrived.

The poem never feels quite right.

Afternoon Rest

The tree leaned down
and said to me,
"The sun's quite bright today.
How about you sit in shade?"

The grass looked up
and said to me,
"Your feet seem quite tired.
How about you sit awhile?"

The breeze whispered
into my ear,
"It is quite hot just now.
How about I cool your face?"

Thank you, tall tree.
Thank you, soft grass.
Thank you, sweet breeze.
Same time tomorrow?

The Apple & The Knife

The apple says to the knife,
"Oh, what strife
to be cut by you this way."
"Well, you must be sliced,"
says the knife,
"for apples are snack today."

Blue Teapot

Little blue teapot:
a toy a child forgot
sits waiting for the day
the child returns to play.

Found this in the yard the other day.

Quiet

Early morning, not ready to stir.
Others, still in bed, breathe softly.
The fan moves air along the walls.
Birds make calls to one another.
Leaves rustle in a soft breeze.
Bugs vibrate in search of mates.
Even in the morning's stillness,
Life is sound.



So I wrote yesterday, but I forgot to post. Ah well, at least I'm still writing during my vacation if not quite keeping up with posts.

St. George Street

Walking on the street,
people go around
as we amble,
browsing storefronts.

Chocolate shops,
ice cream parlors,
pizza dens, and
open air grilles

call us inside.
Smells wafting out
convince us to
take a long look.

We leave with a
pound of pralines
and caramel
for later.


We visited St. Augustine, FL today and walked along St. George. It's part historic district, part tourist trap, and part unique shops. It's a place I've visited a few times over the years, since it's close to my grandparents' place. If you're ever in northeast FL, I recommend it.

Missing You

We're spending our days miles away. No matter how far, you're in my heart. Just sing me a song, and all night long you will be with me in my dreams.

Gentle Haiku

an evening breeze
gently moving through palm leaves
caressing my cheek

Interrogation

You know him?
   Who?
You ever see him now?
  What's going on?
Said he said he'd done something?
  He said that?
What happened?
  Was it Monday yet?
Why?
  Can I talk?
Promise?


Lines found in Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter by Tom Franklin

Lullaby

Go to sleep, little baby.
Go to sleep, my dear. 
Mama's here, little baby.
There's nothing to fear.

Winkin, blinkin, and nod
Are waiting for you to come play.
Lay down and rest your bod,
Sleep off the cares of day.

Mama's here to watch you, 
And keep you close all night.
Mama will always love you.
So now, little dear, sleep tight.


The other day I felt the urge to wrote a lullaby. This is it. Not terrible, but it's a good thing babies don't critique poetry.