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Poetry

Dear Kitchen Cabinets: An Apology Poem

Dear Kitchen Cabinets,

I apologize for slamming

You so much in my 30s.

You were there and

You had a handle.

In a way you

Were asking for it.

But there were

One too many dirty plates

Left in the living room.

(What am I,

The maid?)

And there was

My desire to complete

One measly thought

Without interruption.

(What is “alone time”

Anyway?)

These are little things,

I know, but

These distractions,

These unintended discourtesies,

Are the big stuff of every mother’s life

And, sadly and simply,

They are not to be avoided.

Therefore,

I’m sorry

I took it out on you,

kitchen cabinets of 

Lightly stained maple.

You never broke down

To hang limp from a torn hinge. 

Well…

Except

For that one time.

–Marilyn Yung

Thanks for reading! For more poetry, visit my poetry page. For teaching poetry, visit my teaching website, ELA Brave and True, with more than 350 posts, including a large collection of poetry lesson plans.

Photo by: Eric Nuhr on Unsplash

Categories
Poetry

My ’90s Bomber Jacket: A Treasured Object Poem

Thick and heavy, warm and supple

Chocolate brown leather, a world map lining

Four pockets to hold:

Gloves, change, Kleenexes, icy fingers,

Oversized,

It clothes me in comfort

Distressed,

It encloses me in memories from

Years of travel from

Minnesota to Maine,

Vermont to Florida,

Oregon to Kansas.

My trendy friend found years ago

In a Phoenix boutique

Is now classic outerwear and

Perfect for…

Ever.

–Marilyn Yung

Photo: M. Yung

Categories
Poetry

When I Heard the Learn’d Grammarian

A poem inspired by Walt Whitman’s “When I Heard the Learn’d Astronomer”

When I heard the learn’d grammarian,

When the nouns, the adjectives, were ranged in sentences before me,

When I was shown the graphic organizers and paragraphs, to draft, revise and edit them,

When I sitting heard the grammarian where she lectured with much applause in the classroom,

How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick,

Till rising and gliding out I wander’d off by myself,

To my quiet dining room table, and from time to time,

Look’d in perfect silence at the journal before me.

–Marilyn Yung

Featured Photo: Hayley Maxwell on Unsplash

Categories
Poetry

Cicadas and Geraniums

Cicadas cicadas cicadas

heard since July, the Sunday night of summer

when sunrise rays lower themselves,

heating the concrete, ducking below a deck umbrella,

driving me inside to the white noise of conditioned air

that tells a lie of comfort and coolness…

that gives way to middle August and the

dropping

of

crinkled and matte

oak and

maple leaves, and

withered petunias, and brittle geraniums who

refuse to relinquish the dry soil and the pseudo-sun of

southern Africa beneath which they naturally thrive.

–Marilyn Yung

Photo: Michael Beener on Unsplash

Categories
Poetry Uncategorized

Rust: A Color Poem

Rust

Rust is the reliable color of 

weakness and endurance,

an erratic reacquaintance.

He’s the embarrassing residue

oxidizing at the edge of iron’s brawn.

A popular environmental color,

he was a favorite at the very 

first Earth Day in 1970.

Unlike his obstinate cousin,

Orange, 

Rust also goes by

Clay,

Cinnamon,

Squash,

Yam,

Copper Mountain.

Crayons know him

as Burnt Sienna.

Redheads call him

Ginger.

The tint of McRib,

he imitates the

machine-formed pork hero:

in and out of our lives —

back for a limited time — 

and then gone for months

(or years) on end.

I recently read “Yellow,” the 1987 poem by Kay Ryan (and “Yellow” the song by Coldplay and “Yellow” the post by Yeahanotherblogger), and was inspired to write the above little verse. Just experimenting. Also thinking about a new poetry assignment for my high school students. Your reactions and thoughts are welcome. Feel free to leave a comment below or use my Contact page!

Featured Photo by Zsolt Palatinus on Unsplash