NaPoWriMo, early bird prompt

Tomorrow (April 1st) marks the beginning of National Poetry Writing Month, known informally as NaPoWriMo, in which I have been participating for several years. The idea is to write a poem every day in the month of April. The poet who owns the NaPoWriMo website is Maureen Thorson, and she give an optional prompt to follow each day (and she always makes clear that the prompt is optional). On March 31st she also gives an early bird prompt, for those of us who want to hit the ground running, I guess. If you want to see what the prompt is, please check out the website.

Following the prompt as best I could, here is what I came up with:

I Had a Life Before You

I had a life before you
but I can remember it
only in brief instances,
like a fragment of nightmare
recalled for a split second
late in the afternoon.

It's mostly like
trying to recall something
that happened before I was born,
so far removed is it
from the realm of my cognizance.

Each day you give me
the life I had long ago believed
was beyond my purchase.

Whenever I reach for you,
clasp your perfect form
and bring you to my lips,
you fill me with all the goodness
you have inside you.

And it is never decaf. - Jeff Barnes

Haiku

Can't see the river,
only fog under the bridge --
relentless March rain. - Jeff Barnes

Haiku

Plastic eggs dangle.
An Easter tree stands in snow.
Second day of spring. - Jeff Barnes

Graham Gardyloo

Graham Gardyloo is an odd sight to behold.
His head is a 20-pound pumpkin.
On his chest he has a set of drawers
that he keeps all of his junk in.

His legs are high-rise apartments
whose tenants all are ants.
You can see them though the windows,
for he always wears short pants.

His feet are pontoons with retractable wheels
so he can travel by water or by land.
He's got a saxophone for a nose
which he blows when he plays in his jazz band.

He's got bungee cords for arms
and suction cups on his fingertips,
candy corn for his teeth,
and red licorice for his lips.

His eyes are 50-watt light bulbs
that guide him along at night,
so if you see him coming in the dark,
don't let him give you a fright.

Graham Gardyloo is the only one of his kind,
at least as far as he knows.
He doesn't know where he came from.
It only matters where he goes. - Jeff Barnes

Haiku

Haiku

Waning afternoon.
See it hiding in the clouds?
Wispy gibbous moon. - Jeff Barnes

The Fire Opal Sky

Hands like trees grow from the ground.
Fingertips reach for the sparkling heart of the sky.
The stars have vanished from the night,
each one replaced with a perpetually winking eye.

The mouth of the cave has bright red lips
that part to reveal yellow pointed teeth.
Its raspy whisper invites you inside
to explore the obsidian world beneath.

A flight of ruby plumed birds
and crystal-winged butterflies
ride a gale of light purple wind
and swirl into the green-speckled sky.

The sun has disappeared forever.
There is no morning or afternoon,
nothing but the glimmering eyes in the fire opal sky
and the glow of the Buddha-faced moon. - Jeff Barnes

Haiku

Unhappy choir --
cats on their way to the vet
yowl in harmony. - Jeff Barnes