NAPOWRIMO April 7

Birthday

reflections
in the mirror
in my mind
neither tell the whole truth,
since both are filtered
through the sieve of my life,
colored by the haze of time
and distorted by
selective vision.

(c)2012 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 6, 2012

Good Friday

My son calls to ask if eggs are meat
I assure him he can eat eggs
on Good Friday.
Its amazing what things stick.

We question the deity
and avoid his house
except to mark milestones
with ritual rites of passage.
it is said those who study the book
come to believe in it less and less
more mythology than history, 
releasing rote acceptance,
exchanged for intense questioning
not quite ready to give up the cultural forms.
 
(c)2012 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 5

Forum Thread

tiny letters embroider the screen
dove gray trimmed in slate blue
a pastel poetry sampler
created for the keen of sight.
No longer stitched by candlelight
by weary hands and watery eyes
still painstaking, delicate, miniscule work
whose details are more fully enjoyed
when enlarged for my view
by technology.

(c)2012 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 4, 2012

Midlife Medical Tour

Prepare to be
poked, prodded, pricked and penetrated,
analyzed, questioned and criticized,
for too high this and too low that,
all scrupulously noted in your permanent record
right behind your high school report cards,
only this time around,
you can't ace all the tests.

(c)2012 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO April 3

The Press Dial

new phones with new instructions
trying to crack into my old head
just want to set up voicemail
with a password that isn't hieroglyphics
stumped by bizarre directions
"dial *98 and the press dial." 
No such thing located anywhere.
Someone forgot to buy an "N."

(c)2012 Noreen Braman

NaPoWriMo April 2

Inheritance

if I disappear
like the Cheshire cat
evaporating into a smile
remember that I taught you to laugh.

©2012 Noreen Braman

NAPOWRIMO - National Poetry Writing Month 2012 April 1

Urban Progression

Along the tracks,

manufacturing skeletons

bleached bones of industry

rotting carcasses of business

in the graveyard of commerce,

reborn as canvas for graffiti.

©2012 Noreen Braman