MAPOWRIMO April 29, 2013 Seminar Pyramid

Seminar Pyramid

come to my seminar, workshop, conference
hobnob with the hottest in your field of expertise
listen to how we all prospered so much
we just had to share
our secrets with you, down at the bottom.
For $50 or a thousand
in person, online, or DVD,
we'll change your perspective, your paradigm, your process
to something as magical as we
and soon you will generate leads and sales and clients,
who will come to your workshop for a fee.

©2013 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 28, 2013 Inertia

Inertia


The less done, the less done,
the more chair-ified, the less done,
the more same old same old, the less done,
the less force applied, the less done.

the less done, the more resistance,
the less done, the more to do
the less done, the more stupefied,
the less done,  the more energy needed.

The more done, the more done,
the more movement, the more done,
the more speed, the more done
the less time, the more done.

the more done, the less unfinished.
the more done, the less in waiting,
the more done, the less pile-ified,
the more done, the more energized.

©2013 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 27, 2013 Mom's Poem 1989

Inside a box that hadn't been touched in years I found a time capsule of 1989. Some toys, some hair clips and a small notepad in which I had scribbled poetry and other thoughts from mid 1989. Here, with some slight editing, is one of them.

Mom's Poem 1989
After Eight

After eight, the magic fades,
as children pass in slow parades,
protesting sleep with loud tirades —
this repeats every night.

After eight, I'm getting shrill,
my patience level drops to nil,
can't wait another minute 'til
these children go to sleep!

After eight, at last they dream,
their peaceful faces gently gleam,
reflecting back a pale moonbeam—
I tiptoe past their beds,
and kiss their sleeping heads.

©2013 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 26, 2013 elixir vitae

elixir vitae

broken, bruised and barricaded behind
stone; a solitaire of solitude sworn
against any attempts at attracting
love; a lacerated, lonely life
until: unheralded, unsung and unexpected,
he healed my heart.

©2013 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 25, 2013 The Goddess in Traffic

The Goddess In Traffic

The driver behind me is singing,
her smiling face awash in morning sunlight,
she could be Pandeia, visiting earth,
exuding youth and health,
her slim hands keeping time on the wheel.
As the song ends, she reaches down,
soft curls falling over her forehead,
as she brings her hand to meet her lips
and takes a drag on a cigarette,
evaporating into the sacrificial smoke.

©2013 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 24, 2013 Night Songs

Night Songs

Moonlight pushes aside the curtain, liquid silver pooling on the bed,
still cold and yet, the mockingbird sings from high on the branch of a budded tree.
Underground the cicadas stir silently, knowing their time is soon,
another full moon their birth herald, their song overwhelming the night.
Still, in liquid silver, lovers will add their voices to the symphony,
no point to sleeping while nature fills the night with sound
that makes the moonlight quiver.

©2013 Noreen Braman

I am still a day behind, but will keep on going.

NAPOWRIMO April 23, 2013 Acrostic Instructions

Instructions

Live for the glory of each day
always striving for gentle thoughts
understanding that hurt comes unbidden
grow as plants do, toward the light, keeping
happiness as your goal.

©2013 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 22, 2013 Falling

Falling

Apart is the direction in which things fall,
beads from a broken string,
clattering to the floor,
scattering under furniture.
rolling into irretrievable crevices,
some to be found years and years later
when the rug is pulled up
the house is torn down,
by then just a hint of what once was joined
together in the direction of which things are made,
beads adorning a wrist
learning the moves of the dance
earning praise for flexibility
grasping the life ring
in case down is the direction in which the ship goes.

©2013 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 21, 2013 Mom Always Said

Mom Always Said

A day late and a dollar short
is how my mother always described me.
But if I have to hurry,
it increases my worry,
sorry Mom, I just gotta be me.


©2013 Noreen Braman

News from the Smile Side of Life Laughter & Happiness Club. Read my newsletter, sign up if you want, and don't forget, the next fun meeting is Wednesday, April 24!

NAPOWRIMO April 20, 2013 A Puzzle Poem

Puzzle Poem

one
two three
four five six
seven eight nine
ten eleven twelve
thirteen fourteen fifteen
sixteen seventeen eighteen
this is as far as I can go.

why?

©2013 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 19, 2013 Facebook Status Found Poem

Many thanks to WordNerdGirl (check out her wonderful poems for NAPOWRIMO) for seeing the poem in my facebook status, giving me a poem for April 19 as I continue to struggle with sickness and lethargy.


Facebook Status Found Poem

Just woke up
from a feverish nap
to see it is all over in Boston
and they got the guy alive.
I would cheer but I can't talk
- can't get up and dance either,
so just clapping weakly.
Now back to sweaty sleep.

©2013 Noreen Braman

And a reminder we all need right now...

NAPOWRIMO April 18, 2013 Dorset Street

Dorset Street

Affordable row houses, built by Fred Trump
on land once a paint factory,
in the shadow of the Brooklyn Union Gas company.
Populated then by immigrants from Sweden
and Ireland and Holocaust escapees,
a street with plentiful menorahs and
a scattering of Christmas trees
and sidewalks alive with postwar children
on bicycles, roller skates and saddle shoes.
Old country plantings with topiary hedges
sprouting in soil that often turned over
in spadefuls of yellow and blue.
An alley of adventure where someone
raised alligators
and the Park Ave Rich Lady
visited the trash cans with a baby carriage
salvaged items deposited in her limosine.
In dreams the street wavers
from unchanged to unrecognizable
the house is reoccupied but the family
can no longer navigate the streets
or recognize the neighbors,
the sidewalks are naked without children.
Reality not quite as radical,
the real estate ads show all houses intact
the tudor facades removed
the stained glass square of sailboats gone,
the old country gardens and manicured hedges
have given way to brick and iron gateways
and the ad says at #243 there is a jacuzzi
in the bathroom.
And the son of Fred Trump builds palaces
in Manhattan, eclipsing the work of his father
while Dorset Street carries on
with a populations indiscernible from the people-less
photos on Google Earth,
that reveal the neighborhood
contains the oldest house in New York State
something neither Fred Trump nor the throng of post war children
was ever aware of.

©2013 Noreen Braman, a child of Dorset St.

NAPOWRIMO April 17, 2013 Lyrical Delirium

Lyrical Delirium

Fever, fever, burning bright
all through the long New Jersey night
when will I once again feel right?
to hell with the poetry, give me some drugs.

©2013 blah blah blah blah blah

NAPOWRIMO April16, 2013 At the House of Found Poetry

At the House of Found Poetry

At the house of found poetry
exists a litany of unfinished stories
bound together by artifacts
gleaned from psychological storage bins
encrusted with gems and dust.
Unsychronized chiming clocks
randomly call out the hours
each a clanging reminder
of something left unsaid.
Pointless pencils lie in wait
to tell tales of ages chronicled
in the layers and layers of lyrical words
guarded jealously by the dragon
who cannot read.

(c)2013 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 15, 2013 Reflections in a Broken Mirror

Reflections in a Broken Mirror

All I can see is the blood on the sidewalk
smoke in the air, death in the wind.
The dream of shattered glass
spares none, despite the hiding,
the praying, the running.
I awake in sweat and sunlight,
reborn into a nightmare world
more horrific than my dreams.
©2013 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 14, 2013 Playing Catch-Up

Playing Catch-Up

Accumulated unfinished tasks
and family obligations
all on the heels of norovirus
have conspired to silence the poet
who may just have to live
with several days missed
unless the Muses are generous
and the schedule clears.

(c)2013 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 10, 2013 A Tale of Two Houses

A Tale of Two Houses

The house, a burnt shell
stands mutely, years after.
Wind and time working loose
the boards nailed up
to close the blackened spaces
once windows, once doors.

Around the town
quiet conversations,
'when will they tear it down?'
an uncomfortable reminder
of death and emotional desolation,
on this street of shutters and porches.

Less attention paid
to the dilapidated house
with the peeling paint
darkened windows and
junk cars in the yard.
one, a tragedy of painful memory,
one, a tragedy of painful future.

(c)2013 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 9, 2013 Dancing With Matisse

"What I dream of is an art of balance, of purity and serenity devoid of troubling or depressing subject matter - a soothing, calming influence on the mind, rather like a good armchair which provides relaxation from physical fatigue."
Henri Matisse

Dancing With Matisse

I dream of artful balance
poised on a golden fulcrum
a wide but even division
between creativity and despair,
expressed in gentle brushstrokes
forming feathers and clouds and words
until the mind is soothed and calmed,
and body released from pain and fatigue
into the serene arms of the soul.

©2013 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 8, 2013 Fading to Black

Fading to Black

Her star rose in the sky the year of my birth,
talented, pretty, exotic,
the model for midcentury mommas
to dangle their babies in front of
everyone wanted their daughter to be her.
Preserved innocence in the age of modern marvels
she stepped aside before things really sped up.
a smile always available for fans and mentors alike,
small forays in the spotlight,
knowing plenty of time lay ahead
for comebacks and other dreams.
Time spent instead in traveling
the path of diminishing returns,
the steady starlight fading to black,
leaving only reflections of memory.

©2013 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 7, 2013 What I Learned in the Past 24 Hours

What I Learned in the Past 24 hours

the brain becomes inconsequential
when the body is hijacked
there is no discussion of ransom
no terms of surrender,
the brain can just record the trauma
while begging for release
from unfeeling captors
who only move on
when scorched earth is achieved.

(c)2013 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 6, 2013 Norovirus Found Poem

The way I feel right now. Actually, I don't look this good.

Norovirus Found Poem

Genetically diverse genus
single-straned RNA
non-enveloped virus,
Caliciviridae family.
Viruses in the genus
all strains of a single species,
the Norwalk virus.  

(c)2013 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 5, 2013 Stuff

“You cannot have everything. I mean, where would you put it.” ― Steven Wright

If you want to get rid of stuff, you can always do a good spring-cleaning. Or you can do what I do. Move. — Ellen DeGeneres

Stuff

I've got it, all of it.
The baggage,
 belongings,
chattels
and habiliments,
impedimenta,
paraphernalia
and trappings,
odds, ends
and personal effects,
a regular thesaurus of stuff.

Don't look in my
closets,
dressers,
or attic,
backyard sheds,
file cabinets
or china hutch,
wardrobe,
cabinets,
or pocketbook,
the stuff that holds the stuff.

(c)2013 Noreen Braman

Free Kindle Book through April 9, 2013 "A Bouquet of Roses"

In honor of Spring, free today through April 9 - Kindle version "A Bouquet of Roses"

NAPOWRIMO April 4, 2013 - Creation

Creation

 "One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star."  - Friedrich Nietzsche

A fine excuse for living in disorder,
to birth points of light
that gambol in the heavens.
Brilliant gifts to the universe
born of tumult, turmoil and upheaval.
Sprung from physical womb or metaphysical mind
nurtured amid the disarray
of internal and external pandemonium.

(c)2013 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO - April 3, 2013 - Balancing Act

The original Balancing Act

April 3, 2013

Balancing Act

How fitting for me
that April should be
the month of both humor and poetry.
An offspring of Mars
writing verse about stars
balancing metaphor and hilarity.

(c)2013 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 2, 2013 From a Car Window

April 2, 2013

From a Car Window

Changing face of the neighborhood,
seasonal decor, home improvements,
smoking embers that reside where once a building stood.
Crowds gathered near shopping or street fairs
children with balls and bikes and school bags.
Expansive highway vistas
tiny houses on the mountain
cows and horses in the valley
rivers full of rocks and white water.
The canopy of endless sky
storms and rainbows on the horizon
landscapes suitable for epic tales.
Passing vehicles from many states
trucks with colorful product graphics
other backseat kids who wave
instant window to window connections.
Night travel with its magic
oil refineries sporting tall flames
pipelines glowing in futuristic patterns
distant fireworks dotting the sky
warm glow from homes beckon.
A moon to escort the travelers
twinkling stars to wish upon
as sleep finally shuts the tired eyes
heads leaning against the car window.

(c)2013 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO - April 1, 2013 - A Feathered Separatist

April 1, 2013

A Feathered Separatist

Early morning and early evening
I drive past the swans,
their pond broad and clear
sparkling in sunlight,
yet
a solitary swan rejects the comfort
wandering outside the enclosure
swimming in the drainage ditch
waddling in the freshly plowed adjacent field
hobnobbing with Canada Geese
a swan of a different feather.
(C)2013 Noreen  Braman