Hour Seven Prompt It was a day of dismay that threw my whole world into disarray. For whoever is responsible for that horrible day, they must surely pay. Because from that day forward, I will never be okay.
Tag: 2017 Poetry Marathon
2017 Poetry Marathon: My half-marathon recap
Because I woke up this morning about an hour and a half before my alarm was set, I am very sleepy (I have been drifting off here and there between poems), so this will be short. This was my second time participating—and it was much…
2017 Poetry Marathon, Hour Twelve: Sleep of the Golden Hour
1 At last I am home with you We are tucked in bed sheets clean and fresh pillows cool and soft (not too soft) Side by side your head resting on my chest we are warm comfortable safe happy 2 My eyes close I hear…
There are No Words for This, But a Poet Has to Try
How can a jig Encapsulate life? Two measures tear me up, Tighten my throat Capsize my heart so it floats upside down in my chest, Rudder aloft and sails under water. It starts with the swallowtails, of course, Dipping and diving for insects…
2017 Poetry Marathon, Hour Eleven: Empty
I don’t like to watch you dance because it stirs me up inside and I know you have no interest My infatuation does me more harm than good that’s when I turn to the Irish exit In short order I will remember seeing you dance…
2017 Poetry Marathon, Hour Ten: Red
It was a small spot of red on a canvas dominated by blue and black a lone point of humanity amongst two armies without faces or names One small spot to represent the blood of millions lost A young woman walked by stirred by the…
Roommate Violation-Prompt 9
Spider Up on my wall You’ve violated our much-spoken contract. You know I welcome you into this home on one condition. You may stay as long as I do not see you. Perhaps it was an error on my part I’ll turn away for a…
2017 Poetry Marathon, Hour Eight: A treatise on shame (facsimile)
I became an expert on the meaning of shame realizing what it means some twenty-five years ago, if you can believe that Back then, I still had hope that you and I could become we though I had doubts, I did my best to resist…
The Words are Marching
The Words are Marching VCS I wrote a hundred thousand words I tossed them in the air I wrote them in a coma I wrote them on the stare I tried to keep the words down With chicken soup and ginger ale But gypsy curses…
2017 Poetry Marathon, Hour Seven: War (and hide)
I am not so different I do want the same thing as everyone else— but on different terms That may be good enough or it may not so I hide I am not so different all of us are taught to hide I happen to…