Why?

Why does it feel like
I am climbing uphill
With lead weights attached to my ankles?

Why does it taste like
There are staples in my mouth
That won't go down?

Why does it smell like
The dog needs a bath
And I am too lazy to give it to him?

Why does it look like
The clouds will
Never go away?

Why does it sound like
A typical Monday morning
On I-285?

Why can't I stop dragging my finger nails against the chalk board?
Because the chalk board has been replaced
With the smart board
And I have yet
To get the message.

July Theme???

Saludos, poets.

Since it's July 2nd already, I thought I'd offer a monthly theme suggestion for our rejuvenated blog. I know some of us have already posted poems about summer here, and yeah, I think we've already had a summer-themed month... but honestly, it's so friggin' ludicrously hot in Arizona right now, it's really all I can think about.

So, my suggestion is anything to do with summer, the heat, the (desired or undesired) consequences of said heat, etc., etc. Sorry for the repeat, but thanks, everybody, for assisting with the preservation of my sanity.

And here's a little inspiration:

A something in a summer's Day
As slow her flambeaux burn away
Which solemnizes me.

A something in a summer's noon—
A depth—an Azure—a perfume—
Transcending ecstasy.

And still within a summer's night
A something so transporting bright
I clap my hands to see—

Then veil my too inspecting face
Lets such a subtle—shimmering grace
Flutter too far for me—

The wizard fingers never rest—
The purple brook within the breast
Still chafes it narrow bed—

Still rears the East her amber Flag—
Guides still the sun along the Crag
His Caravan of Red—

So looking on—the night—the morn
Conclude the wonder gay—
And I meet, coming thro' the dews
Another summer's Day!

~Emily Dickenson