Sometimes my husband says really smart things. Today during a conversation on our lunch breaks, it was this—
Me: “How can I let go of something like that?”
Him: “Shift + Delete”
Sometimes my husband says really smart things. Today during a conversation on our lunch breaks, it was this—
Me: “How can I let go of something like that?”
Him: “Shift + Delete”
I look out my office window
working too late, again
The half-moon is round
with a glowing halo —
I know it’s pollution but
my heart sees fairy dust
or the happily ever after
romance of a bedtime story
And next to the bright moon
with its fringe of murky light
soars a large airplane
with its lights flashing
and I can hear its engine
even with my windows closed
(it’s hot outside, otherwise —
you know darn well —
I would open them!)
The plane’s lights —
red, green, white orbs
of unsightly technological safety —
are ruining the beautiful night sky
and distracting me from
my dusty fairy-tale moon
Yet maybe
at last
I realize
what’s been
obscuring
my poetic vision
I always seem to focus
on that beautiful moon
and the romantic dark sky
but ignore the 737 monstrous
hunk of metallic civilization
hurling itself through the night,
followed by a second aircraft
and then a third and fourth,
as if the airport is shooing
all her noisy little children
out of the house to play —
And even though that airplane
is hideous and loud
and aerial anti-serenity —
it’s life.
And what is poetry —
if not life?
Perhaps it carries
newlywed lovers
who were finally married
after COVID cancellations,
leaving on the honeymoon
they saved up years for —
and in that plane
is just as much fairy tale
as that beautiful-ugly
dust veiling the moon.
—Terri Guillemets
The only thing I want
a subscription to
is the winter chill and
an evening view of Venus
and those are totally free!
The only thing I want
to pop up in my face
is a beautiful flower
in springtime bloom
and that, by the way
never gets in my way.
I just want to read a recipe
not look at a baker’s dozen
hyperenormous photographs
and read a culinary novel
so now please can I cook?
I don’t need to know
the fifteen best this
or 36 surprising thats
it’s free (with purchase)
but hurry, only 2 left!
Bah, no thanks. Is there
an app to make it all stop?
I’m not made of attention
time nor clicks nor money
so I am logging myself off
from the world to walk to
the grassy park with a book
and enjoy a nice simple day.
—Terri Guillemets
like wild animals, I am happy hiding
the artificial frightens my being —
but it is time to fight for the earth
—Terri Guillemets
scrambled blackout poetry created from Rafe Martin, Birdwing, 2005,
the wilderness died
of a broken heart —
from bad decisions and
evil battles of grown men
—Terri Guillemets
blackout poetry created from Rafe Martin, Birdwing, 2005,