How oatmeal cured my insomnia (and other riveting stories)

[Janet]

1. She throws a bucket over the dreamer
2. Innerracial
3. Why he should want a divorce
4. Early April
5. When I find myself
6. How oatmeal cured my insomnia
7. How to divorce a narcissst
8. What they say about the doormat
9. Guided Meditation
10. Brain Chemistry (a thank you note)
11. Merry
12. Thirteen
13. Dear Future Me
14. What a dream means
15. Sally's Edge
16. Self-decor (transitional objects)
17. Social Injustice
18. Zapped
19. From Scratch
20. Gray Scale
21. Fruit & Nuts
22. Yellow (or gold)
23. The Buckling
24. Inspiration
25. Screens
26. Ten thoughts between Dallas and Austin
27. Detective's Report
28. Grandma's got no buttons
29. Panoply
30. Daddy's Tea

I will write a poem a day.
I will write a poem a day.
I will write a poem a day...

[Acolyte]

I like the oatmeal best with a bit of honey. Life, too, to be honest! Happy (mad, crazy, wild) April!

[Dani B]

*imagining the Simpsons chalkboard with Bart writing this line* waves - April fall, one poem at a time!

[Featherless Biped]

I totally want to read a poem about this oatmeal story (and if it does not exist, someone will have to invent it).

[Angela]

Mmm! Oatmeal! Happy NaPo!

[merelynn]

Did you hear the joke about oatmeal? It was a bunch of mush.

Groan. Happy NaPoMo!

[Janet]

She throws an ice bucket over the dreamer

The part that leaves
has sharp edges-
it makes a road block
out of grief.

When her soon-to-be ex
crosses the line, she replaces
tenderness with laser-focus. Logic.

The part that's become winter
makes leaving him easy.

[prokopton]

Hi Janet,
perhaps NOW is the winter of her discontent. heh.

stout beginning, forge on!
best of luck to you.

G.

[5th column]

The part that's become winter, that makes leaving him easy. I enjoyed the poem and especially that last couplet.

[Angela]

The part that jabs are the last two lines. Keepers for sure. So good to read you again!

[Janet]

Innerracial

Dark irises hide my pupils.
Tan describes me
not what I do.

I'm like a dish of tabouli
with seared ahi tuna.

In Texas, I check the white box.
I stand out in Tokyo.
In Greece or Mexico, it's easy to blend.
In Sydney I'm a "wog".
(I've never been to Switzerland.)

On the "race" spectrum
Mom's so white
she doesn't know
she has a shadow.

Dad's dark like Lebanese lattae.
Except for religion, business or politics.
Then he does everything white.

[kristalynn]

Great title! Great first line, also, I like how it starts with the eyes and pupils. It feels like I am being pulled into the person, being let in on a secret.

[Arlene]

Love 'Mom's so white she doesn't/ know she has a shadow.' And the lovely first line, 'Dark irises...'

The first poem's a fist. Very nice.

[JFN]

Janet, happy NaPo.

she replaces / tenderness with laser-focus made me smile. You don't want that winteriness with spring on the doorstep.

Innerracial is a smart title. S4 and 5 really had me smiling.

John

[Janet]

Thank you prokopton, Neil, John, Arlene, kristalynn and Angela for reading and taking the time to fluff.

Why he should want a divorce

I roll my eyes when he says (my nose in a dish), "You missed a spot again".
(Breathless) I say, "I've figured out why your ex left."
I cry and cry and cry (for "no reason").
I'm all "rainbows and unicorns" (according to his daughter).
I say, "You're the pettiest." Ever.
I yell, "Equality!" (dump groceries in entryway, head for the park).
I (obviously) want more me-time than romance (I turn down ice cream to write).
I pull the headphone away from his ear (then let it snap).
My cat shed all over his things (tsk, tsk, tsk).
I (suppress, suppress, suppress) hand him a lint-roller.
I'm not an iPad (can't read me).
I'd rather stroke my pussy (cat).