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Posts Tagged ‘notes’

MY PERIPHERY

I have a pen in every room
And sometimes two or three
Because the poet in my soul
At times needs setting free

Whenever I am struck by muse
I jot it down in haste
Before another thought pops in
And one might go to waste

But it is pens I’m not without
No paper is in sight
So I use almost anything
When it is time to write

There’s notes I’ve made on magazines
On grocery bags and such
And toilet tissue’s not exempt
But truthfully, not too much

There’s notes on every box in sight
And on a pillow case
I even wrote above my knee . . .
I write where I find space

You’ll find these notes within my poems
Except the one on knee
I lost it in the shower stall
Which I did not foresee

For years that poet in my soul
Hid shyly deep within
But now with notes on everything
I wear that poet skin

And that is why I jot thoughts down . . .
To set that poet free
And use such muse that fits a poem
In my periphery

8/28/00 Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

4’th … Indiana NPD – 2000

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My tidy desk

A MESS, BY ANY OTHER NAME

 

This is the room where-in I write

I know you think it’s quite a sight

You look askance at all the piles

But those are what I call my files

 

I sure get chided for this mess

What’s underneath, I cannot guess

But I can’t write without them near

And it’s up to me to make it clear

                                               

Though every magazine and book

May only have a cursory look

I know what all  those pages hold

Needing them all, though some are old

 

They’re carelessly piled upon the floor

There’s barely room for any more

Among the mess, hide pens and clips

And copious notes on little slips

 

And maybe there’s a bill or two

That fell there, as the piles grew

And “greetings” that I failed to send . . .

Oh, the piles just never end

 

I tried to tidy them one time

So, laid aside my current rhyme

And spent the whole darn dreary day

Clipping and filing and putting away

 

Then lost my sandwich right at noon

I think it’s smelling up this room

But if I search the piles you see

I’ll make a mess, and that can’t be

 

11/30/06       Phyllis DeWitt -VanVleck

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Setting the Poet Free

SETTING THE POET FREE

 

I have a pen in every room

And sometimes two or three

Because the poet in my soul

At times needs setting free

 

Whenever I am struck by muse

I jot it down in haste

Before another thought pops in

And one might go to waste

 

But it is pens I’m not without

No paper is in sight

So I use almost anything

When it is time to write

 

There’s notes on every box in sight

And on a pillow case

I even wrote above my knee…

I write where I find space

 

You’ll find these notes within my poems

Except the one on knee

I lost it in the shower stall

Which I did not foresee

 

For years that poet in my soul

Hid shyly deep within

But now with notes on everything

I wear that poet skin

 

And that is why I jot thoughts down …

To set that poet free

And use such muse that fits a poem

In my periphery

 

Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

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          MY DESK

 

The things that clutter up my desk

Are not considered picturesque

Pencils, pens, erasers, too

Mail with answers long past due

A paper-weight and paper clips

Though odd it seems, there’s two prune pits

The pits will be two trees, I plan

But now are stuck on Ed McMahon

Contest brochures, poetry notes

Clippings cut from Digest quotes

A photograph of Clinton’s grin –

Mustache, gapped teeth penciled in

 

What you may judge as disarray

Is where I work, day after day

I don’t despair, for in my mind

There’s nothing there that I can’t find

I know that’s not what you’ve been told

But I see my desk all cubby-holed

I know what’s in each pile stacked there

And those that overflow my chair

There’s just one thing that troubles me

A ringing I hear frequently

Beneath this stuff that’s so well known

Is hidden my darn telephone

 

9/8/98    Phyllis DeWitt-VanVleck

 

3’rd … Arkansas NPD 1999

5’th … NFSPS 1999

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