Sorry

He draws a card and I hope:
Anything but a 3.
Sure enough, he draws a 3.
Unlucky again,
Both of us.
Him, because he's losing.
Me, because I'm winning,
And now I have to decide
Whether to play to win or play to lose.
He needs to practice losing
But I can see his temper unraveling.
Games were never so complicated
When I was playing them for fun
And not for a child's character.


~ Tamary Shoemaker
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(From a prompt at Poetic Asides to write an unlucky poem.)

Something True

It wasn't the words, though the words were kind;
It wasn't the smile, but something behind --
Something that shone out, silently shared --
That convinced me you meant it when you said you cared.


~ Tamary Shoemaker
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(From a prompt at Poetic Asides to write a poem with the title "Something ___.")

Summer (is a matter of opinion)

I'd like to take my time enjoying spring until it's gone,
But the kids say, We're dying! Can we turn the cooler on?


~ Tamary Shoemaker
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(From a prompt at Poetic Asides to use a season as the title of a poem.)

The Grounding of T. S. Eliot

Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like the unwashed dishes still upon the table;
Let us go find certain half-completed chores
That happen to be yours.
Oh, do not say, "Whatever."
You are not so very clever.
I have said it all already, said it all,
I have seen you playing X-box hours on hours,
And I have seen your clothes upon the floor after long showers,
And in short, you are a slob.
No! I am not your housemaid, nor was meant to be.
If you go to meet your friends-- if you dare ask for the car--
You will hear your father's yelling, worse by far.
I do not think you're listening to me.


~ Tamary Shoemaker
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(From a prompt at NaPoWriMo to use a line from another poem as your first line. The first poem I thought of was The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, which I memorized in college and still remember parts of. Then it just turned into a parody and, well, it's 11 pm and that's as good as it's going to get tonight.)

Shadow

The beetle scrabbles slowly
over hot and dusty ground,
then suddenly he stops,
amazed at what he’s found --
a New World drenched in coolness,
protected from the sun;
he will make his beetle home here
until the shade moves on.


~ Tamary Shoemaker
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(From a prompt at Poetic Asides to write a shady poem.)

Breath

It’s one of those spring days
with an intermittent breeze –
all is still for a while, then
out of nowhere a little wind picks up,
moves across the yard,
dies back down to stillness once again.

The grass not mown yet this year,
tall blades stand uneven above the rest.
The wind blows, the tall blades bend,
the whole lawn ripples for a moment.

Boughs of the crab apple tree bounce gently,
their white blossoms still young enough not to fall.
A single petal drifts down and lands next to me.

The sun is warm, the breeze is cool.
The day knows what it wants to be
but I’m unsettled feeling both at once.

Across the street the trees barely move,
as if the rest of the world is asleep
and only right here it’s breathing, sighing,
dreaming? turning over? waking up?

A hawk glides silently overhead,
hardly moving its wings
till it passes out of sight.

The next breath comes
and the grass stirs, the boughs bend,
everything full of motion
like quivering readiness for something new.


~ Tamary Shoemaker
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(From a prompt at NaPoWriMo to go outside and write a poem.)

Chess Club

A silent room
Eight people there
You can feel the thinking in the air.
A sudden movement
A sigh of chagrin
Without a word
The next match begins.


~ Tamary Shoemaker
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(From a prompt at Poetic Asides to write a poem where people interact without speaking.)