Category Archives: Poetry

Rain Tears

image unknown origin (an allpoetry.com contest entry)

If every tear that ever fell
Became part of the cycle of rain
They would evaporate into
Our atmosphere and we
Would all breathe pain

A Responsive Reading

There are those who spend hours huddled
over bibles stirring as if they were cauldrons
filled with gallons of steaming condemnation
drinking from a fountain of self righteousness

There are those who wrap themselves in corsets
containing and prohibiting any human love
freezing out those not deemed suitable
walking two steps ahead of the lowly and unworthy

There are those who scratch words and prayers
on paper that bleed and they suffer oh how they suffer
for their Jesus. P.R. Men for God, the only ones
with hotline to heaven, key to the executive bathroom

There are those who are confused and tired
poor and hopeful, lost and broken, held in God’s hand
with a gentle touch, washed and whispered to
needing, fed, welcomed home, covered by grace

This Little Light of Mine

allpoetry.com contest Count To Eight

Create a rhyming poem
with 8 syllables per line
and 8 lines in length
based on this image.

I shall never live in darkness
though shadows hover round my room
I’ll make a little light to shine
to keep away the sense of doom

I will write away the darkness
I will write of the stars so fair
I’ll even write some light for you
I have got plenty more to share

According to Wikipedia:

This Little Light of Mine” is a gospel children’s song written by Harry Dixon Loes (1895-1965)

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/This_Little_Light_of_Mine

Who Knows Me

AllPoetry contest Prompt: Who are you?

I used to be young
skinny girl kind of snarky
loved the world and sang
the years with friends and
all the ideas my mind would
run though like a thousand
crystal streams

I grew up and had my babies
those were good years
but confusing
I lost me for awhile and
before I could find me
they were grown and off
looking for their own
I surprise them

now I am young again
though my outside
has not caught up
I dream and write and think
and wonder if I have ever
been me or just
a reflection of those
I love

I have wrapped up parts
put them away
like forgotten toys
some broken
some barely touched
many were loved once
some as ugly as the sweater
aunt Alice gave me for
Christmas

So now I am a little
snarky and a bit pissed
because time is passing
and I have wasted
I won’t ever be guilty of
that again…I will be me
in strength and weakness
joy and pain
I am wading in the water
again

Big Boy

AllPoetry Prompt: “I know why some animals eat their young”

“whatever” he said,
staring at me from under
lashes once curled round my finger
now lip curled, stance
all defensive,
shoulder slumped, hands
thrust into denim pockets,
after shave and cigarette clouds,
“I love you” whispered to his
back as it goes out the door.

my hands itch to gently
push hair back,
wish for ghost of the smile
that once came easy,
giggles at whatever I said.
curly hair baby shampoo
mixed with little boy smell,
nose rub, bear hug,
“I love you this much”
whispered as I closed the door.

Anger Kills

AllPoetry Contest Prompt: Mystery ’80s Lyrics Prompt: Alone above a raging sea that stole the only girl I loved, and drowned her deep inside of me
weird prompt for me – did not listen to The Cure and never had my girl stolen lol

and  I am full of anger,
roiling, boiling over, spilling all
around it makes a mess;
the test is how effects appear.
It killed the love.
It killed the hope.
That’s what it does,
A slippery slope
that once begun, control is lost
and further in the cost,
it takes more than it fills
the angry sea of me is what
it’s all about; my anger, my feelings,
my self, I shout: me, me, me,
and you are gone, but
I was so mad, I didn’t even notice.

November Wind

November wind does not sing,
it screams and wings to other
lands. The span of seasons
pushed by currents fervent,
branches cling to trees,
let go of leaves that fall
to pleas of wind and weather,
sigh and curl around themselves
then acquiesce to little death,
the red and gold of tearing
loose from summer’s mooring.

November wind seeps in and
mutters now of snow and bite,
of gray and white, and I am loosed
like leaves and scattered,
grounded. I will sigh and curl
before the fire banked to
bring warmth higher through
the longest night, til winter burns
through darkness gold in bones,
atones for sins untold and seasons turn
and I and leaves rise up and yearn.

An Old Child

allpoetry prompt – write a Triolet

not completely satisfied with this but it was interesting to play with – I will revise later. Not sure it is exactly correct in form.

An old child, who knows the past
with love tattooed on worn out flesh
and bones that carry memory cast
An old child who knows the past
where sunny days died all too fast
inward eyes see life afresh
An old child who knows the past
with love tattooed on worn out flesh

8 lines.
Two rhymes.
5 of the 8 lines are repeated or refrain lines.
First line repeats at the 4th and 7th lines.
Second line repeats at the 8th line.
Rhyme scheme (where an upper-case letter indicates the appearance of an identical line, while a lower-case letter indicates a rhyme with each line designated by the same lower-case or upper-case letter):
A
B
a – Rhymes with 1st line.
A – Identical to 1st line.
a – Rhymes with 1st line.
b – Rhymes with 2nd line.
A – Identical to 1st line.
B – Identical to 2nd line.

Creativity Stymied

allpoetry prompt – word bank: curtain, serpentine, sentinel, noble, unbound, crystal, finite, reverberate

form – etheree

circling,
serpentine thoughts
slither, a sentinel searching
for cohesive nerve connections;
unable to place two words together.
The curtains of the heart shut, no noble
endeavor this. Frustration unbound, needing
one crystal clear chorus, a prayer that
creativity won’t prove finite with
broken edges the mind ever
falls from, unending
reverberation of
failure.

Outside The Garden

allpoetry prompt – nightside of eden

We live out our days
on the nightside of eden,
banished from the garden.
Left to cold, dark, and pain

We wait impatient
for the last sunrise,
that signals homecoming;
that trumpets the gate song.

We toil for things that
never bring peace.
We love frail people
that forever disappoint.

We strive for growth
that never hits the mark;
a people breathing need
for a place we can’t remember.

We love imperfect,
with less desire than
needed to lift us
high enough to be loved.

We wait sleepless
through the long night,
shivering and longing
for the gardener to wake us.

The Princess of Lettuce

allpoetry prompt: significant memory

working as a salad girl
just a kid myself
busy Sunday afternoon
kitchen humming waitresses in black
and white swinging in and out
through doors with balanced trays
and tips in their pockets
you walk in with your dad and I stop curious
customers are not a kitchen fixture
but you are being led and I hear him ask
can you hear this and smell that
then he describes the beautiful princess
dressed in white
and smiles at me before leading you out
and I was glad you could not see
clown princess mascara running
down little girl cheeks
blindly scooping lettuce into plastic bowls

Against The Tide

allpoetry prompt:  against a pier and the ragged fingers of ten thousand waves

When one man stands strong
he is a pier jutting out
into the ocean of humanity.
He interrupts
the course just enough to effect
the flow to shore, as the waves
of daily life
divide and go around him.
The shore
is breached from a new angle,
and deflected back to the sea,
following the altered path.
Though small, you can see the effects
ripple outward as he changes the tide
forever.

Ice Flow

allpoetry.com prompt: “Life goes on even when you feel frozen in time”

there is no silence like ice
everyone moving slowly
as though under water
I watch them pass
and wonder
shrinking
to the size
of the hour that
gives no quarter
drags on into days
and stuck, I keep watching

Naked Moon

allpoetry prompt: you disrobed the moon

We are on to you
coy beauty!
Shyness?
Only showing yourself
after dark but
then that light,
the glow that catches
the eye and draws
us to watch.
Night by night,
in front of all those stars,
you do a slow dance
teasing, just a little hint
at first, as though you
haven’t already decided.
Hiding in the day,
making us wait,
until naked, you smile
and beckon,
wanton, no blushing
virgin.
You’ve done this before.

Nightfall

Sunday Scribbling prompt: intense

Shadows grow long teeth
Claws scrape asphalt
Bloodless moon drips pallor
Cool sweat crawls down
hunched back
pooling in the small
Flightless wings
Naked hands cover
Sightless eyes as
nothing drowns out
Spirit mutters
Branches moan in
Stillness magnified creaking
Sneaking home

One

First attempt at poetry in the form of a pleiades

One lone star before the dawn,
Only singing morning song.
Own the sky until the sun
opens eyes and light has won.
Obeying gravitational laws,
Ocean tides rotational cause,
Offering beauty as I pause..

“PLEIADES: This titled form was invented in 1999 by Craig Tigerman, Sol Magazine’s Lead Editor. Only one word is allowed in the title, followed by a single seven-line stanza. The first word in each line begins with the same letter as the title.”

Words In My Coffee

Just a ramble – don’t look for a deeper meaning.  It isn’t there.

Paschal’s in the kitchen
cooking up pork and bean dreams
while Jae roams lost internal landscapes
got me to thinking sinking under
the weight of the words
that come whether they fall on
the paper of stay in the light
I’m just trying to make
sense of it all on a green sky night
write it for Sunday
write it for Wednesday
it don’t matter when it comes
to the end they just
don’t hear you and it’s not real
clear to you why all the words
jump off the page and jumble
in dark recesses excesses of pathos
angst oh just say it out drama bout
the commas where they go and
how you use them sets it all up
you went to the wizard but
he didn’t have much to say
hurts my head that being said
they all just holding out
reaching out leaching out all
the soft cream center leaving nothing
but the hard shell coating voting you
off the page the stage the wages of all
the sinners storing up for winter
ought to share to care to swear they
will they won’t they lie inside the ride
is bumpy roads are paved with gold
but it’s tough digging and you
got to want it bad you had it and
let it slip right through your fingers
lingered a little too long at the table
it’s all scraps now scrape the plates
the late comers warm summers
bubble gummers with their boots on
trampling out the vintage singing out
the rage of plague of latest generation
thought we knew it too but in the end
the answers get all muddy waters
rising analysts apprising us of coming
trends preachers ends mission sends
us all out to the ether nether whether
you like it or not we all just children
all just keepers of brothers and secrets
and mothers rocks their babies watch
them grow and go and march off to the
world to sow the seeds of just another
turn of the screw the world the furled flag
of drag it through the years and
come out smelling like a rose
the thorns the close of every play
ends with a bow they say
no Saturday complete without
the matinee the mellow drama
fellow man my brother sister
twist her up in knots she bends
spindles and mutilates her brain
but rain will wash it all away
the play’s the thing the wing
the heights just leap don’t keep it
under cover hover over all the
rooftop steep drop shop what a fall
we all land here sooner or later
alligator ab initio
then the chorus
amen

I Wait

It’s been awhile since I have written anything for Three Word Wednesday and this is very late, even for me but here goes.

Also for AllPoetry contest Janis Ian “In The Winter”

Three Word Wednesday Prompt: Absolve, Hiss, Ridicule

The hiss of the teakettle
the tick of the clock
I carefully place the teabag
in the cup
and wait

through the window
dim winter light
sneaks through
and ridicules the midnight
in my heart

Chance meeting
polite inquiry
absolves you
and I cover myself
in cotton quilts
and wait