A Verse for Every Day of National Poetry Month by Joe Calvillo

Joe Calvillo.

Joe Calvillo is the throbbing heart and soul of the lively poetry scene in McHenry County. He is a local writer, poet, and founder of the poetry group Paladins of Poetry which stages successful month poetry readings. Its Facebook group is a great read. He has also associated with Sanctuary Poets and Atrocious Poets. He has been a featured poet at Poets in Resistance events at Tree of Life UU Congregation in McHenry. 

This month he is posting a new original poem for every day of National Poetry Month. His first three entrees in the series are below you can keep up with the posts on the Paladins of Poetry Facebook group. 

Poem #1 for Poetry Month 

Bring me that broken chalice 

Along with your harbored malice 

On this one day for foils and fools - 

This noted first day for charm 

And trickery and foolery sans harm. 

What story, what mockery, which lore 

Could be more incredible than this war 

Of nonsense and ridiculous caveats 

Wrapped in misinformation; tied with red ribbons 

And sold by the fox of misgivings. 

So, tease away all that you see 

Strip clean all values and sell them for a fee. 

Put on your best brown uniform 

Along with the black boots of repression. 

Learn to salute with that vile arm extension. 

Become a true wonder of a mystery in uniformity 

Bend and twist your self-worth into conformity! 

I’ll stand here between chaos and cohesiveness –

And resist the oceans and conquer the mountains 

Not in silence but in harmony with freedom’s fountains. 

 —J.A. Calvillo 

 Poem #2 for Poetry Month: Calling Water 

The ease of flow in the waters - 

Currents moving - cascading - falling;

 Gently puddling, forming, gathering - 

Hasten the beaconing waters: go beyond the edge. 

Eddies where inertia swirls and turns into brooks 

Streaming into rampaging rivers resounding 

Beyond majesties and behemoths standing 

Tall along the canyons and gorges. Skies that transform from delightful blue 

Clear and clean while the air is sick and thickening. 

Grays skies began boiling into a rage - threatening 

While the future awaits in a distant queue. 

Thunderbolts launch - slamming the heavy air! 

Everyone with dreams of immortality praying 

For emancipation from death’s calling… 

The consuming quietness, a portent of destruction. 

The winds of change take aim in full rage 

Their intentions and power are demanding 

Full annihilation of all life standing. 

Long hours huddled inside a hole that is a soul. 

A peaceful silence awakens the new dawn

As daylight’s gentle light is redeeming. 

A full sunrise begins with blue birds singing: 

Alive! – we are alive to rebuild a new world. 

The ease of flow in the waters rises 

While the currents cascade into the falling. 

Gentle forms gather at their puddling 

Hastened by the beaconing waters: Seek the edge. 

 —J.A. Calvillo  

Poetry Month Poem #3 

 * * * * * * 

I made a poetry garden 

To plan for poems to say 

For there is so much to give 

And calling old friends to play 

Went hard cultivating poets 

From back in the old days 

When five flowers were all we had 

But it didn’t matter much – it’s okay 

There was an old paladin poet 

Sitting at the gate in full cogitate 

The mood was easy - no need for strain 

If it’s open to just ruminate 

I saw a rose by any other name 

Sitting by herself showing stems with thorns 

For beauty is only to see; it’s all just the same 

Yellow, pink or red dress she adorns 

Then came the old dog slammer 

Friend of the old woods 

No one knew their hammer 

Nor could we see they were user dudes 

Their songs went fast and rhythmic 

As the poetry party rose to a wayward lee 

And love poems flowed into the garden 

When the yellow tulips all stood to see 

There was trouble in the garden party 

For there came dandelions no one knew 

They soon elaborated beyond meaning 

And caused the place much ado 

Oh me, oh my! – it’s just a poetry garden 

It don’t matter much who is Queen 

And there is no king flower 

Bees and butterflies is the scene 

Went to a garden party 

Seeing who was there 

And found only winter’s hand 

Had taken its cold stare 

And so, we play in the garden 

Once again - once more 

Poets come and lovers go 

And the old poet is still lore.

 —J.A. Calvillo (tribute to Ricky Nelson/ Garden Party)