NaPoWriMo: Poem – Free Verse – ” A Day in the City”


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And now for our (optional) prompt. Today, I challenge you to fill out, in no more than five minutes, the following “Almanac Questionnaire,” which solicits concrete details about a specific place (real or imagined). Then write a poem incorporating or based on one or more of your answers. Happy writing!

 

 

 

—–

Edmonton at Night
Edmonton at Night (www.pinterest.com)
——

Warm Spring Day at fifteen degrees,

In our pretty bungalow near the River Valley,

Gerber Daisies on the table, warm colours please,

Resting on a tablecloth, Easter pastels gladly.

—–

The dog lies under the table in my art studio,

I’ve tried to paint her, but she never sits still long.

Driving downtown to immerse myself, with dog go.

Bask in the presence of the farmer’s market’s throngs.

—-.

Dog walking beside me, enjoying all her doggy friends.

Conversation with some guy about Hockey playoffs,

Not many Canadian teams made it, no matter in the end.

Many Canadian players, play for American teams, so layoff.

——

Walking down the street past ancient buildings,

Observing the walls speckled, thoughtless youth wrote graffiti.

Some call it ‘art’ while others would say ‘you’re dreaming.’

Obscenity scrawled haphazardly, done messily.

——

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Asks the aged vendor selling peaches.

I give him a smile, saying: “I’m happy to be single right now.”

Subject change, “Have you seen my new puppy?” Subject now out of reach.

Old guy is comfortable, complains of gas prices and frowns.

——

Oil prices particularly  bad, so I let him know gas prices are low.

He doesn’t understand; when he was young gas cost barely anything.

Ready to move on, I don’t want to be rude; dog barks, “time to go.”

He talks more, the Terwilliger Park Foot Bridge opening this spring.

——-

The new bridge has an amazing minimalist design,

I tell the vendor about biking there with my Dad,

When my brothers and I were younger, biking was fine.

Following closely, didn’t want to get spanked as we had.

——-

Then slipping away I wander to other booths,

Comfortable in leggings and thin white sweater,

The dog wants to run, I can tell; We leave, dog approves.

Down to the river valley on the off leash trails is better.

——-

We have to watch out for the Beavertaur — a mythical animal,

But some say they have seen it on the prowl.

Both beaver and minotaur; a creature quite unimaginable.

For those walking river valley trails, the situation could be foul.

——

My friend has sworn upon Wayne Gretzky’s statue,

That he barely escaped the Beavertaur with his life.

Made me laugh; today the dog and I are fine, no snafu.

We went on home and we had a nap, long day but no strife.

——

Gazing out my window, to the brick patio below,

Think we need outdoor furniture, to enjoy in the sun.

Remembering family friend, left life’s flow.

Gone for five-years already, in heaven’s quiet hum.

——

She babysat me when I was small, thirteen years my senior,

Reading Appley Dapply Nursery Rhymes; beloved childhood book,

Then settling in bed I sleep for a moment, no dreams either.

Hearing cats screeching, the dog barking, awake I’m shook.

——

In alley, a neighbour’s trash bin — scattered garbage,

You can’t leave your trash out, the cats will make a meal of it,

Neighbours leave their bags in the open always unguarded,

I’m annoyed, but I roll my eyes and think, ‘forget about it.’

—–

Vacation thoughts stir my mind in other directions,

A trip in Canada, much easier then going through US border.

Maybe, Quebec City or Montreal, thoughts and reflections.

Killing a large spider with a block of wood; restored order.

—–

It’s good luck to kill a spider, he won’t end up in your house.

Dog is whining; she wasn’t outside with me,

That’s just life I tell her; TV on, channel browse,

The debate: aren’t we the City of Champions? Can’t you see?

—–

Or does the Oiler’s last ten-seasons make us champions not?

It’s more than merely about playing hockey,

It’s a way of acting, some people don’t understand that talk.

Being a champion in the heart, it’s  Edmonton’s image worthy.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

 

 

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Writing 101: Graffiti – “Art Without Subterfuge.”


I could paint you a brilliant picture in so many vibrant colours; I don’t know if you’ll like it, but it will still be art. And it might only be words. 

Art has such varied definitions. I’ll give you every kind. The tattoo  of a woman hair blowing, she flies across  your back and chest — one of my favourite species of art. 

Graffiti of the skin is truly sublime. Graffiti on the wall can be merely a mural. When I was in high school Art,  I painted murals across the school. I learned the texture of a  wall.

Michelangelo and Adam touching fingertips by the stairs. And a leafy haven enfolding items of art and drama. We viewed them both as art, glimmering and sublime. 

But the building changed functions and they painted over the murals. To them they were just tasteless high school meaningless graffiti. They weren’t works of art to liven up the solid, boring, white wall paint. Some people are boxed in by definitions of what art is and is not.

When I visited San Diego, under all the bridges was this fantastic and beautiful graffiti. It was art out loud and it was allowed to beautify a dirty place, under a bridge. It was enlightening, let them do graffiti. 

And I’m always wondering when an artist paints a mural to make an area prettier, why some kid has to ruin it spray painting orange profanities.

I guess to him his graffiti is a greater art. But to anyone who knows beauty, a terrible sin was created when he sprayed over a mural which told a story in paint already.

If you are going to do graffiti, you should do it at the right place or atleast do it well. 

I love it at the skateboard park when all those skinny skaters, bring their spray paint and go wild on the places they do flips and ollies. 

Graffiti can be outstanding a burst of skittle colors on blank pages of a building. Like the tattoo artists who create images of meaning on our body, there can be so much meaning behind Graffiti.

And it should be allowed because art is a personal freedom. If you have the skill to electrify and colourize any white surface professionally or learning, let the artist work. Let them rain beauty. 

As a girl who has done some art and knows something on the subject, I can tell you the kind of tools and subject matter is different with every person for any drawing or painting done in art. 

And you can see the varied methods of art when we explore collages, or twisted metal sculptures. Rooms of installations with the sounds of birds chirping and flying.

You can see art in the artists who stand still for many hours, when we light up a bridge or tower, when the sky springs with pride on our country’s birthday with fireworks.

You can’t fit art in one place. It is everywhere and everything. Art is people kissing and the way the sunlight hits their faces. Art is old men walking, and the heart and effort it takes to walk with a healing hip.

Art is graffiti. It is any kind of inspiration that can be found or can be given. It is crazy thoughts we think will never work. But one day they do. In a starburst of evolution art is created.

So give me more graffiti, as long as it’s quality. As long as for me, it’s beauty. Art is central to the individual as the butterfly tattoo on your hip. Or the poppy tattoo you can’t quite convince yourself to get.

Put Graffiti on white spaces. Like the little guys who put crayon and felt tips on their mother’s walls. 

Spray paint a glorious vision of passion and reality; the metaphysical delusions that only make sense to you.

Spin for me a radiant vision of a catastrophe honoured or a special day realized. Make your art poetry, make poetry graffiti.

You can spray the truth and I’ll write it without subterfuge. I’ll give you a blast of colour, shape, line, form, and design with my words. 

My words are the spray paint and I’m painting your soul. A spectacular illusion of light and space that alludes to deeper meanings and all the colours celebrate. 

The beauty that is Graffiti. 

——-

©Mandibelle16.All Rights Reserved.