This week let’s write a goal poem. It can be about setting goals, achieving goals or, if you’re like me, you’re interested a specific kind of goal this month. Take your best shot and, in this case, hit the Post (button) to share your GOOOOOOOALLLL in the comments below.
Living Poetry 
There is no substitute for December
The gray of January too glum
The hopeful twilight of November too timid
and the strangling fingers of summer’s heat
too close to February to be trusted
December is the cynosure
a place of quiet, a place of rest
a place one is always welcome
but not a place a home can be made
the dark too bright to stay
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Posted by Chris Clarke | December 10, 2022, 11:07 AMInteresting juxtaposition of ‘dark’ and ‘too bright’ very fitting for December, the dark return of the sun.
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Posted by ts19page | December 10, 2022, 11:23 AMGreat use of the word “cynosure” and that last line is brilliant!
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | December 10, 2022, 1:58 PMThank you, Bartholomew. Since it isn’t clear in the final result, the goal that I’m writing about *is* December, making it through the whole year to reach it again.
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Posted by Chris Clarke | December 11, 2022, 9:18 AMBad wifi and
Free coffee
On the train to Mebane
Opens head space
And a sliver of time
To reimagine life goals
For the last third of earthly existence
And new strategies
To articulate desires
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Posted by Second Act Blogger | November 30, 2022, 1:10 PMLovely! Free coffee has a introspective effect on a person.
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | November 30, 2022, 1:20 PMLove this. And love you for coming on short notice.
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Posted by JeanMarie | November 30, 2022, 7:06 PMLikeLike
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | November 30, 2022, 12:22 PMI think it needs work. I wrote it on my phone, a 1-finger poem, in about 2 minutes, before having to go to the county dump (daily chores). It’s a true story but fails to capture some of the feeling, especially the depth of the event, its impact, and aftermath.
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Posted by Dennis or Donncha | November 28, 2022, 1:07 PMJust because you posted it here, don’t consider it done. Every poem can use some work. That’s why we hold workshops.
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | November 28, 2022, 1:31 PMI plan to smooth it … to deepen it … to find a better, more to-the-point choice of words …
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Posted by Dennis or Donncha | November 29, 2022, 11:22 AMHe was 16
When he saw his neighbor,
Shot, by soldiers,
Slain in the street.
And in that moment,
Resolved, his goal,
To take up arms,
Thus rid his home
Of that foreign state.
What followed?
A decade of prison,
Forced to emigrate,
His goal now only a dream,
He thus unrepentent waits
For time to reveal,
His fate.
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Posted by Dennis Corcoran | November 28, 2022, 11:57 AMPowerful stuff. Thank you for sharing!
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Posted by Bartholomew Barker | November 28, 2022, 1:30 PM