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Monthly Archives: October 2009

“Portia”

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PORTIA
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Ils — Play to keep. Games & Metal. De-tect. Detector.
Elles — lose the air, a proverb’s rare cause (volley the heart)
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/////////////////////…school…
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Ils — License Danger. Drive the Crew. Kill. Tell? Kill.
Elles — tell the crew, “danger, anger, don’t pare the fish”
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////////////////////…classroom…
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Ils — Hand for a Hand. Shoot! Avoid Lock, Failure.
Elles — avoid,  and  avoid,  and  a  void,  and  a
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/////////////////////…chair…
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Ils — Waste > Proportion > Prop > Por > Pro
Elles — portion = portion = portion = portion
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/////////////////////…child…
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Ils Check the Cost. Confiscate the Check. Cost the Con.
Elles — compare memory, tissue, our bare misuse, us
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/////////////////////…Portia…
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by Therese L. Broderick
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(a writer’s statement appears as the first comment below)

“Bit Part”

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…………………………bit part
…………………………in dreams now and then
………………………...while I’m catching paper cups
………………………...fallen from small hands
…………………………of children in their ferris wheel,
…………………………or sitting at the back of a bus
…………………………on its way to an island,
…………………………my diary left behind
…………………………and wearing white seersucker,
…………………………or taking the phone off its hook
…………………………at three in the afternoon
…………………………so that no one can reach me
………………………...as grey tornadoes builds —
…………………………my father shows up playing
…………………………a bit part, odd man out
…………………………bus driver or corner witness
…………………………or sick man donning
…………………………a red woollen cap, sitting
…………………………alone in the old house
………………………...(there then not there even
…………………………after all these years),
…………………………but sometimes he’s less
…………………………than that, with no role at all
…………………………in the dreaming, instead he’s
…………………………what wakes me — sated
…………………………fatigue, revived thirst
…………………………or hunger, daylight returning
…………………………or just too much rehearsal,
…………………………enough already our dying
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…………………………by Therese L. Broderick
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…………………………(A writer’s statement appears as the first comment.)
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“Poetry Spam”

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,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,..,,…..POETRY SPAM
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,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,some poems are meaty
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,.,,,,some poets are mealy
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,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,some poems are mash-ups
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,some poets are mess-ups
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,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,some poems are metaphysical
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,some poets are miserable
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,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,some poems are mystical
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,some poets are mystifying
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,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,some poems are metered
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,some poets are muddled
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,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,“some poems” are mine
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,“some poets” are me
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,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,by Therese L. Broderick
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Writer’s Statement — This poem was composed partly in response to prompt #96 on ReadWritePoem: write a poem using words from cyberspace spam. This poem departs from the prompt by riffing on the four letters s,p,a,m. This playful piece is light verse, not meant to be taken seriously.
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“Twenty-Four Seven”

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TWENTY-FOUR SEVEN
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In any weather, day or night
…….24 / 7 / 365
deer appear along the parkways.
…….the Thruway Authority
Today a light rain can’t keep
……in order to reduce
two fawns and their parents
……the number of deaths
behind the trees. They graze
…….keeps near the on-ramps
heads down, no crazed stares
…….four telephones
to catch my headlights.
…….hotlines
So common a sight, and yet
…….easy to see
I take this long route instead of
…….on the Tappan Zee Bridge
 the Tappan Zee,
…….because, on balance,
its balance too alert to
……..Life is Worth Living
passing chance: signs reminding
…….call 1-800-273-TALK
that any driver among us
…….again, 1-800-273-TALK
might suddenly flee his car,
…….someone on the line reasons
lunge to the rail,  leap…
…….don’t  do it, don’t jump.
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by Therese L. Broderick
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Writer’s Statement — This poem was written in response to prompt #95 on ReadWritePoem: mash up two or more written pieces. The poem below mashes up two sources: a rough draft poem I wrote for a ReadWritePoem mini-challenge, and facts about the New York State Thruway (facts from the Thruway website, which is fair use according to copyright guidelines). My rough draft relates a car trip I took recently on the Thruway, regretting that I had not taken the parallel parkway. In this poem, I combine my real Thruway trip with previous parkway trips I have taken.
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“City Limits”

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…………………………CITY LIMITS
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…………………………The only bus from the airport to downtown
…………………………had no view, passenger windows occluded
…………………………a fine wire grille. All I had hoped to
…………………………glimpse early was denied — a star musician
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…………………………stepping out of his taxi, dueling pianos,
…………………………the leaded glass doors of The Driskell.
…………………………But later that first evening the moon
…………………………rose large and full in hovering heat, lover
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…………………………after lover sang brashly under lights. Regrets
…………………………I had flown with, which I had come here
…………………………to pawn for a slow walk alone down Sixth St.
…………………………could not, by any Austin night, stay hidden.
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…………………………Then all the next morning, rain, silver rain
…………………………and silenced rooftop perches.
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…………………………by Therese L. Broderick
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………………………….(A writer’s statement appears as the first comment.)
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