Self

I remember a time when
Someone like I
Would never consider
Myself being worth anything, let alone everything
Funny how life can change a thing like that
As my self-worth, my self-care and love of self grows


National Poetry Month for 2021 Day 30

First time ever completing thirty whole days of original poetry – YAY!🎊

I end National Poetry Month, keeping it short and simple, with my first Golden Shovel poem using the opening line of Sonnet 15 by William Shakespeare

The Golden Shovel form was created by Terrance Hayes in tribute to Gwendolyn Brooks. The rules are simple:

  • Take a line (or lines) from a poem you admire.
  • Use each word in the line (or lines) as the end word for each line in your poem.
  • If you take a single line with six words, your poem would be six lines long. If you take two lines and the first line has 19 words, and the next has 13 words your poem would be 32 lines long in total and so on…
  • Keep the end words in order of the original poem.
  • The new poem does not have to be about the same subject as the poem that offers the end words.
  • Give credit to the poet who originally wrote the line (or lines).

She Tells Him

Standing there by the old fence
She sure is a pretty sight
He forgot just how her eyes do shine
Under the bright sun light
He ain’t seen her in over month
Truth be told not since that night
And he knows the call bringing him here
Can’t be for something right

She tells him the baby is yours
And he knows she ain’t lying
Inside her a life slowly grows
But inside him he’s slowly dying
Being a dad at seventeen
Wasn’t part of his plan
A baby makes him a father
But it don’t make him a man

She leans against the old fence
Not enjoying the cooling breeze
The silence between them is deafening
It’s not meant for times like these
She remembers how he held her close that night
How he made her weak in the knees
Not this distance she feels now standing next to him
Like she’s got some kind of disease

She tells him the baby is yours
And he knows she ain’t lying
She should be happy about this life that grows
But she’s on the verge of crying
Being a mom at sixteen
Wasn’t part of her plan
A baby makes her a mother
But it don’t make her a woman

He’s thinking how two together
Can sometimes add another one
She’s thinking she can’t raise herself
Let alone a daughter or a son
Both want to stand their own ground
Both of them want to run
And neither wants to dare to think
What the other thinks should be done

If he offers his hand would she be his wife
And somehow together maybe make a life
Or let it be something that they just let go
The distant dreams only the two of them will know
She tells him the baby is yours
And he knows she ain’t lying
No matter what they decide
Its knot that’s never untying

Having a child in their teens
Wasn’t part of their plan
A baby makes them parents
But she’s a long way from a woman,
And he’s a long way from a man


dVerse Poets Pub | Open Link Night #291

Today Mish tends the bar for Open Link Night at dVerse Poets where there are no prompts. Post the poem you want.

National Poetry Month Day 29 in a narrative mood.

Could Not Conceive Such

Tears flow with delight
Forgiven are the pains of labor
From the tender life so sweet
Of the new born in her arms
A baby she never thought
One like her would ever greet

~ Because they could not conceive such ~

A time in which the sunlight
He used to once savor
Would ever be forgotten
Living for centuries with such qualms
A creature of the dark sought
The warm rays of dawn now verboten


dVerse Poets Pub | Poetics: Build a Bridge

Tonight at dVerse Merrill asks us to build a bridge of sorts with the Puente form or to write a poem about bridges.

The Puente

In a Puente (Spanish for bridge), the first and third stanzas must have the same number of lines, but there is no set number of lines, as long as the two stanzas match. They can be rhymed or unrhymed. The bridge line is one single line connecting the first and third stanzas. The last line of the first stanza and the bridge line are a couplet, and the bridge line and the first line of the third stanza are a couplet. The bridge line then often connects stanzas written from different points of view or about different ideas.
It sounds more complicated than it is, but it really is not. Two stanzas with a middle line that connects them.

I bridge rhyming Puente of a woman celebrating the birth of her newborn with a vampire longing for the dawn.

National Poetry Month for 2021 Day 28

Got It Write This Time

For the past near sixty-one days, I have blogged every single day. Last month for Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life Writing challenge was arduous enough. That self-promise of thirty-one days straight of blogging, especially when I had posted barely a couple dozen times from all of May 2020 to March of 2021, was truly diving off the deep end to see if I can swim. [I actually did that dived into a 16 foot deep pool without knowing how to swim.] No, I still cannot swim – don’t ask. Luckily I was much better at following through on immersing myself into regularly blogging again.

Because it is following right behind the March challenge, April is its own war as it is all about poetry. Each year for National Poetry Month I look around and enjoy the work of other poets. Each day I also post original work of my own, honoring National Poetry Writing Month. At least I’ve tried to. I admit I in previous years I have been a spotty poster during April at best. If a dozen new works happen it was a good year. C’est la vie.

As I had naught else to do, I also challenged my self to try more of a poetry form I was not fond of the Villanelle. I absolutely knew I could not do thirty days of them, but I have managed one new one per week, the most recent as of today which I published this morning. Which means I now have five villanelles in my poetry portfolio. Having written four more it is better than the single one that has existed for nearly decade by itself, so that is a huge win in my book.

2021 is the only year in which I have participated in National Poetry Writing Month where not only have I not bailed halfway through the month from writing exhaustion. Granted some were posted late, like yesterday’s coming in at nearly 11:30pm, but I will have thirty new poems under my belt, including four new villanelles! With the finish line a mere three days from now, I am confident I will complete it. I cannot begin to tell you how proud I am of myself for this!


Slice of Life logo

Slice of Life – Tuesday Writing Challenge – Two Writing Teachers

Some Shade of Blue

I would need some time, to give it its due,
It’s a daunting thing you ask of me.
The seas are more than just some shade of blue

Oh, how would I render such a vibrant hue,
When seas reach the shore at dawn? At three?
I’d need some time, to give it its due.

In colors cleaved only with God’s imbue, 
This palette of mine must try to decree.
The seas are more than just some shade of blue.

There are whitecapped curls of waves to construe 
As they crash against the rocks prettily.
I’d need some time, to give it its due.

Certainly more time than you’d think it’s true. 
Shades vaster than the horizons to see.
Yes, I’d need some time, to give it it’s due.
The seas are more than just some shade of blue.


dVerse Poets Pub graphic
dVerse Poets Pub | Open Link Night

dVerse Poets Pub | Open Link Night

Today Lillian remodels as she tends the bar for Open Link Night at dVerse Poets.

Open Link Night where there are no prompts. Everyone can post ONE poem of their choosing. No particular format, topic, etc.. Post the poem you want.

Tonight I offer a Villanelle

Unmarked

The spark that once set my soul alight
with fire and fight
I thought died in the embers of the long ago
killed slow
But a moment of the then returns to the now
and how
The desire for apathy crawls upon my skin
and sinks within
But I turn in tune, a marionette
who can’t forget
When words of honor marked needs
negated by dishonorable deeds
I am conjured by promises left unspoken
and now broken
In the end whose price is the one direly paid
for thoughts mislaid?
For once the Fates in their own twisted sense divine
it shall not be mine
And eventually, the pain subsides and the soul heals
from wounds surreal
Finally shelved to deal only with today’s realities
I welcome the banalities


When There Is No One There To See

I’m imagining the you, the you you choose to be
when there is no one there to see

When the company is gone and you close the door,
are you the same person you were the moment before?

If you didn’t know company was coming by,
would left-over take-out be the only food supply?

Who are you? The you you choose to be,
when there is no one there to see.

If I open a closet, will dirty clothes fall from on high,
because when you said you last did laundry was a white lie?

Do you rage at a world you want to throttle
or silently drown your fears at the bottom of a bottle?

Tell me about the you, the you you choose to be
when there is no one there to see.

Do you blast your music because the beats make you glad?
Or simply to drown out the loneliness making you sad?

Do you put your dirty feet on the coffee table,
and run around nude just ’cause you’re able?

I want to know the you, the you you choose to be,
when there is no one there to see?


National Poetry Month for 2021 Day 25 pondering who you are when no one is looking…

His Aura

A young heart, a soul of ancient Torah
Strength to the power that is his aura

The slings and arrows of life untamed
Just slide from the plating of his aura

When my soul’s shards were jumbled about
Calm was found in the peace of his aura

Emotions tailored skin with cutlery
Vanish in the healing of his aura

He is candlelight in the deepest dark
It is the harmony of his aura

Those who turned the page to my new peace
Know the benevolence of his aura

And when asked what factor gives him his peace
States it’s a Raivenne, that is his aura


National Poetry Month for 2021 Day 24 I’m trying a Ghazal

Ghazal is a collection of two-line poems or couplets which follow six rules.

First – Each verse or couplet should be readable as an independent poem, which do not have to rely on the other verses, though the full ghazal has a theme – traditionally romantic or spiritual love and longing.

Second – Each line of the couplets must have the same meter. All the lines in one ghazal must have the same meter.

Third – All of the couplet verses must end with the same refrain, which could be a word or a phrase.

Fourth – The words before the refrain phrase must rhyme.

Fifth – The beginning couplet must repeat the refrain word or phrase in both lines.

Sixth – The final couplet must reference the poet’s name, or alias and sometimes a derivation of the meaning of the poet’s name. This was a traditional way for the poet to sign, or to affix his or her mark upon the work

Somehow

Somehow the thought of you . . .

Rushed in with a swiftness that knocked me to my knees,
Praying for a release quick in coming

Somehow the look from you . . .

Is a spark that quickly quietly – ignites,
A hot match tossed onto dry underbrush

Somehow the heart of you . . .

Peeked out one sunset,
Between the bites of peach cobbler and sips of mimosa

It lingered just long enough,

To cause my soul to sigh


National Poetry Month for 2021 Day 24 has me reminiscing the first spark.

In Search of Lucidity

I wake each morn and reach for you
Habit your death cannot control
The days they past as days will do
But it’s still night within my soul

It sears to realize how much
Our spirits were so intertwined
And now bereft of half of such
I’ve no clue what’s been redefined

Waiting to see on the morrow
Will El Sol keep my company
Needing out of this deep sorrow
That holds tight the darkness in me

In solitary soliloquy
I look for lucidity


National Poetry Month for 2021 Day 23 finds me trying my hand at a Pushkin Sonnet

The Pushkin Sonnet has fourteen lines, with no set meter. The rhyme scheme is divided into one of the two following stanza formats:

abab ccdd effe gg or abab ccdd eff egg