Wild, Uncertain Cuckoos

Written for:  Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads – April Poems – Day 13
Weekend Mini-Challenge – “Three Titles”  (Posted by Magaly)

“For the 13th day of Poems in April, I invite you to write a new poem that includes 3 book titles (each title must contain at least 3 words, and you must not rearrange or delete any of the words).”

“Choose titles from your favorite books. Or, follow this link to Goodreads. Please, list your chosen titles.”

Learning to live with uncertainty
when you feel solidarity
is what you need, is an uneasy
task. I fear that I will not be
the one flew over the cuckoo’s nest,
as my strength is sapped–tapped
like a maple tree for syrup. Living
with exhaustion often makes one
irritable, yet disgusted
with themselves. Inertia blooms
like a plastic rose. Wonder if
I would be better off living
where the wild things are.


Learning to Live With uncertainty
One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest
Where The Wild Things Are


About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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12 Responses to Wild, Uncertain Cuckoos

  1. Just Barry says:

    I like what you’ve done here. Excellent choice in titles. Inertia blooming like a plastic rose resonates with me.


  2. An uneasy task indeed. I hope you find a successful strategy. Meantime, I ‘get’ the poem.


  3. Uneasy and then some. So many mornings arguing with oneself in bed, telling the flesh that it must get up… But we both know that stagnation is scum, or that “Inertia blooms / like a plastic rose.” You said it so much better. So we will get up, do what we must, and maybe… check out where the wild things are.

    I absolutely LOVE this one. And feel it all the way to my bones.


  4. Susie Clevenger says:

    I get this poem. I live with chronic pain. It feels like breaking bones to get started, but start I must. Love how you created this from three book titles.


  5. kanzensakura says:

    Inertia blooms like a plastic rose….great line! I remember the plastic flowers frim my childhood. They never dropped, died, dropped their blooms….always in a state of inertia. Perfect image. Great poem.


  6. Margaret Elizabeth Bednar says:

    “as my strength is sapped–tapped
    like a maple tree for syrup.” What a great comparison. This type of exhaustion isn’t fun…


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