So…

You’re just going to sit
there
while I lose my mind?

How would I know I’d lost
anything
unless you told me so?

I didn’t even know I’d lost my
keys
until I arrived, locked out.

day 3 – Beware

Do you know who we are?
Eyes within eyes
the windows temporary,
clouding with sorrow.

We look to futures beckoning
to hold hope closer
let love shine.

We see you — we wait and watch.
Our blood flows, slow
ice in the veins
hearts bursting pain.

You won’t see us
but we make note
we remember.

We do not hate,
only hope, and wait
for Retribution is not ours
to take.

day 2 – What is…

Salt?

One part toxic,

the other explosive!

Disparate but,

as a whole,

is it love?

At first perhaps.

Ultimately

Heartbreak

_____________________________________

Based loosely on the NaPoWriMo prompt for today, except that I chose one word and ran with it. This getting back into the poetry groove thing is a different animal from fantasy prose, but it’s fun!

April’s Fool – day 1

Welcome, friends,

to the vagaries of Spring,

to Summer-high afternoons

and chill plunging nights.

Here’s to brilliant flowers blooming

nipped by frost the next day.

Are we foolish for loving it?

for celebrating every blue sky?

Yet after Winter, we must.

For to emerge from our hibernation

our layers of clothes

and runny nose

into beams of fresh sunshine,

is to embrace life again.

Oh! To open my eyes and see green!

_____________________________________________________

After nearly 5 years of not regularly writing poetry, coming back to this is rough. Best of luck to anyone participating in NaPoWriMo this year!

Days 12, 13, and 14

Day 12 – Babies are the best!

I dreamt, last night, of gossamer wings.
Of baby toes, and tiny clothes,
and other, finer things.

I dreamt, last night, of a lasting love.
Of chubby feet, and smiles sweet,
a baby cooing like a dove.

I dreamt, last night, of dark blue eyes.
Of a little head, round and red,
and sleepy little sighs.

I dreamt, last night, of angel songs.
Of blessed protection, endless affection,
and love, his whole life long.

 

---

Day 13 – On the Town

City life is not for me, too loud.
The high life is not for me, too proud.

Have you ever felt sick to your ears?
Shades grin back, glassy-eyed;
while next door are new scents consumed,
and each to their own interpretation.
Sharp? Dry? Does it swirl sweetly?
Has it aged in the barrel completely?

Sometimes the waiting is painful.
Sometimes painful is productive.

 

---

Day 14

One wonders, if one wanders.
While one wanders, one dreams;
and if one could dream, one may hope.
If hope had wings, one might fly,
and if one flew, one would be free.
If one were free, would one stay?

That is one question, for another day.

 

Day 11 – School days, school days

Driving hours back and forth for something which occasionally seems pointless
does not lend to poetic thought.
Words are hard, they hesitate, they trip, and drop the rhyme,
if I knew I’d be trying to write poetry about a steering wheel,
radio music, and yellow flowers dotting a littered median,
I might have skipped this month entirely, forget it.

But then, tiny yellow flowers trembling by the roadside
are what sustains my hope in this crazy, speeding world.
Didn’t I say? It’s the fine things, the little things.
A life worth living joyfully,
is when a host of golden dandelions
Speckled on the hill,
Dance in sweet welcome to Spring.

---

A bit of a complaint poem, born of frustration. But contentment is key, and I think I’ve found it. Inspired by dandelions, which is the best kind of inspiration. Enjoy 🙂

Day 10 – Parkour

Rolling into the sun,
they have such fun,
their feet barely touch the ground.
Movement so smooth,
(though the language is rude)
they step without a sound.

 

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Posted before midnight oh yeah! Anywho, Parkour is a bit of a guilty pleasure. Look it up on You Tube, it’s cool 🙂

 

Day 9 – Wonderland

Oh, Alice, I’m afraid you’ve quite misplaced your mind.
Let’s just say, the rabbit wasn’t
a rabbit. That is, when he claimed tardiness,
and one almost assumes he’s courting a lady rabbit,
it was very important after all, but who are you?
Alice, he stole you away like a fairy in a glade,
how he must have chuckled to think this foolish
girl who would chase me! A rabbit in a waistcoat to a tea party.

And then, in drinking that strange concoction, oh Alice
how you shrank, and how you grew, who knows
how you ended up? But the walrus knows, and the cat
and the queen. Sensical, if a thing is, when is it not?
The cat smiles, he is the moon,
the moon yawns, and there’s the cat.
A little old man-ipillar smoke rings around you,
fog your mind, muddle the senses.
Who needs to think clearly when the world has gone mad?

 

---

So this one is weird, but it fits with the strange story that it’s about, right? Alice in Wonderland has always been one of my favorites, but it’s such a bizarre tale that sometimes I wonder what she was thinking.

This is also vaguely inspired by the NaPoWriMo prompt to write about something big coming together with something small.

Day 8 – Peace

Don’t tell me i’m “only human”

for i am more than merely me,

i am royalty, a daughter of He

Who formed my body of dust,

my soul of His breath.

 

I may only equal the

components of a whirlwind,

but my composite parts are made holy

because He blesses them,

and holds me together.

 

Days 5, 6, and 7

First, a Limerick

My head is fuzzy and aching,
My hands are sore and weak,
My stomach rebels
And from what I can tell,
I need 6 more hours of sleep.

---

For my Mother

Pockets of kisses saved special,
Every pockets holds hundreds of pecks
Every smile, every laugh, every sigh blessed,
Holds pecks of pockets of kisses.

This I will remember,
when we have parted ways
that I am loved
that life is good.

And when I struggle, and when I fall,
I’ll pull a pick of pecks from my pocket,
And that’s when I’ll recall,
The love of my mother, so infinite sweet
Supporting me through it all.

---

A Dream

When she flies, she has to work at it,
Spread her wings, filament thin like spider silk,
And dance to catch the air.
When air time is achieved, indeed,
What a thrill!
Kick off the ground, hover, dip, catch it again,
Oh, there’s that sweet spot.
She flaps once, hard, and at last
the sky is hers.

---

 

Writer’s block, when combined with work and school, don’t mix well. However, with just the right mix of chocolate and raw determination, one can hash out three mediocre poems in an afternoon. woot woot!