Thoughts tumble through my head As snores whisper softly in the night I itch to make myself useful But fear waking anyone up Pacing silent, I listen to the house hum Noticing background noises without laughter It’s an eerie kind of peaceful Despite the plans…

The trains go by One by one Right on time Ding dong the doors are closing Ding dong the next station is coming Never ending no not really You do rest they say But whenever I’m there One by one The trains go by

my mother ironed my school shirts white blouses that go with plaid skirts and tucked her love in the pockets   now I’m the mother who irons rarely trying to raise my kids so fairly making sure to buy clothes with extra pockets   and…

The coffeehouse had been my hub ever since I’d moved downtown; its dark walls were covered by burlap coffee bags, and, upstairs, a large reproduction of Robert Doisneau’s kissing couple stood over an old sofa where younger kids took over. As long as I had…

Your beats are therapeutic Thump thump thump thump The doctor says I need a new you That perhaps goes thump thump thump and not thump thump You all sound the same to me Always beating to an unwritten rhythm Always working so I can live…

Jus gotta find myself… Its dark and I’m runnin I feel blinded…but I’m seeing dark I gotta get em off my back This deceiving Me…wonder why I never found the tree Why I couldn’t eat Why is it just heart ache and pain left to…

Why would you do that? Because I love to write What will you get from that? A satisfaction at night How much are you going to be paid? Not a single dime Who would make you do such a thing? This writing passion of mine

Did I come to this, A seeker of thrills? An heiress of my father’s pastimes Faced with an uncertain future,    A seeker of thrills? Adventurous and naïvely dancing Braving with fate. Always was mature for my age   Adventurous and naïvely dancing Begotten of my mortality Always…

I’m learning the Lake’s moods: the polka dot calm– blobbed reflections (almost cartoonish) riding gentle undulations; bolder, half-sun days, each circular wave glowing green through the top (rather like jello); the desolate day when everything went slate (but lonely isn’t always); the winter and watching…

Congratulations – you are almost there. The last prompt is to write a poem about doing something that others are not doing, such as being awake while those around you are asleep.