Harbor (Day 24, #NaPoWriMo 2013)

Harbor
by Hannah Six

lustrous febrile cloak
confiding in
my treacherous extremity
anchored fast
in swirling gelid dusk
devoid of words
my fingers entangled
in sleek and golden safety
reclining against
a piercing, luminous night

Harbor (Day 24, #NaPoWriMo 2013)

Thirty-three (Day 23, #NaPoWriMo 2013)

Thirty-three
By Hannah Six

Twenty-eight are silent in Newtown;
Five more this week in Federal Way.
But you can't look into my background.
Twenty-eight are silent in Newtown.
Don't ask me to put my name down--
My rights are protected by the NRA.
Twenty-eight are silent in Newtown;
Five more this week in Federal Way.


(Today's poem is a triolet.)

Thirty-three (Day 23, #NaPoWriMo 2013)

Never Too Late (poem for Day 22, #NaPoWriMo 2013)

Never Too Late
By Hannah Six

It is not
a miracle that
inspiration
exhilaration
imagination
are yours.

The miracle
is the energy
that breathes life
into magic
into mystery
into every
precious little thing
under the
big, blue sky.

The time is now.
It is time.
This is
the moment.

Never Too Late (poem for Day 22, #NaPoWriMo 2013)

Biochemical Engineering (poem for Day 21, NaPoWriMo 2013)

Biochemical Engineering
By Hannah Six

the work  the work
recently emerged, spans
the heart’s fundamental
activity, tools,
hardware, and
exploits

a variety of in vitro
and in vivo techniques
       complex methods of deep stimulation
       that disorder the restoration
       of function and design
study singles' activity at
the population's level, to monitor
and treat diseases, activities,
and the organ

the system understands
efficient, dynamic, emotional
decisions and memories
       a close relationship
       between synthetic hearts
common as a new being,
already-established,
considered in itself

one is, after all, realistic
about computer models
and cardiac muscle

Biochemical Engineering (poem for Day 21, NaPoWriMo 2013)

Around the Block (Day 20, #NaPoWriMo 2013)

Around the Block
By Hannah Six

Coffee grown tepid in
the whale-tail handled mug beside me,
my unproductive fingers withdraw,
    shamed and cold,
into the stretched-out sleeves
of a cashmere cardigan—
the precise color of a slice
    of Wonder Bread,
    kneaded back to doughiness
    by grubby little hands
—a badge of honor
from a boy
I no longer consider.

Strings of words, elusive wraiths, billow
    like squandered prayer flags
    around my me,
teasing, mocking, ever beyond reach.
Meanwhile, my wretched muse sulks
    in the corner
    behind my right shoulder,
where the lamp beside
the rose-patterned armchair
is seldom,
these days,
switched on.

A ghost now, at best,
bilious seaweed hair and
almost-there complexion
betray her discontent.
What is it? What is it? I entreat,
willing to
meet her
halfway.

The coffee? Perhaps, instead,
I should I should bask
in the steam
of a porcelain cup
of hibiscus tea
sweetened with
organic, local blackberry honey.

The daylight? A fat pear-scented
soy-based pillar
might create
a more enticing glow…
But, no.

Pushing away from the desk,
chair legs and floor cry out en masse,
protesting this untimely intimacy.
I rest my favorite aqua pen
on a chopstick holder (bird’s egg blue)
from the Asian store
on Connecticut Avenue where
    many a lazy
        lunch-hour stroll
            led me,
way-back-when.

Me thinks I will,
talking to the Muse, I say,
call it a day.

Beyond the fog-rimmed window
    pine boughs nod:
    Yes… yes…
And, suddenly,
the dim, chill, gray-white drizzle
takes on a prospect of delight.
I reach for my umbrella
and the dog’s new, pink leash.

Around the Block (Day 20, #NaPoWriMo 2013)

April 19 (Day 19, #NaPoWriMo 2013)

April 19
By Hannah Six

My sister's birthday...
Her eyes sparkle, like champagne,
Through reading glasses

April 19 (Day 19, #NaPoWriMo 2013)

While We Slept (#18, NaPoWriMo 2013)

While We Slept
By Hannah Six

Brave, they say,
when they say,
even though
you were going
to save them
anyway (for the price
of a bed
and a beer).

We waited, here,
for you--
for love, and for fun,
and because
it was right...
You, who ran
toward.

They said: "Come home,"
and then, one day,
you did. For you
are brave.

The flickering light
at this end
of the bridge
is part of a broken
system, they say. One
that sends...

Meanwhile, we--
we all slept soundly,
while you saved
another
family.

Because it was
so easy for you
to be brave.

While We Slept (#18, NaPoWriMo 2013)

What Was Said (Day 17, NaPoWriMo 2013)

What Was Said
By Hannah Six

What the wheat said--
leaning and nodding
over the fence,
old women, gossiping
amongst themselves--

the foal heard,
gentle hissing, rushing
over pricked ears,
tickling that tender
velvety nose

until, mare nudging,
he rose from the ground
on tremulous chestnut legs
and blinked

not so much at what
was being said,
but at the mere fact
of its being said
at all.

What Was Said (Day 17, NaPoWriMo 2013)