To write a poem each day
requires a better memory than I have
A hole in the calendar.
An attempt at restitution.
Something
is not always better
than nothing.
poem-then they peeled back their faces November 5, 2020
then they peeled back their faces
Read this
you said to me.
I poured over words
with the focus of any girl
trying to impress her crush.
Oh, how the story spoke hidden horror!
Everyone in disguise.
No one revealing their true selves.
Forty years meditating on those masks.
2020! Society in masquerade!
Kindness, care, concern: all fake.
The true horror’s been revealed.
poem-I came into myself November 4, 2020
After forty
came freedom.
No one relying on me
My dreams became
priority.
Embracing fun and beauty:
Shoes that make me dance
VW Bug that makes me laugh.
Writing stories and poetry,
then releasing them to readers.
Studying for that masters degree.
No one to stop me reaching.
No tethers constraining me.
After forty
possibility
became reality.
poem- blind November 3, 2020
She falls for
kindness,
talent,
good humour,
joy.
Is so surprised when
people point out skin,
when he wonders if she can handle
The Problem.
She squints to scrutinize for trouble,
but can’t see past the laughter
in his eyes,
the love in hers.
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I suppose that’s privilege, too, isn’t it? The ‘not noticing colour’ has a positive connotation, but a negative one as well. What are your thoughts?
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Ignore any WordPress ads below. Unless they’re for Fluevog shoes, they’re not endorsed by me.
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poem- Covering my ears November 2, 2020
la la la la la
I can’t hear you.
Shouting louder?
I’m not impressed yet.
Media black out:
Ahhhh.
(It’s better than a spa).
poem- committing November 1, 2020
if I think I will
I’m often wrong.
if I say it aloud
sometimes I will
if I tell you I will
then I usually will
if you say that I can’t
then I will.
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Today is the first day of NaNoWriMo and on many years, that’d mean I’d be busy getting out my 1667 words, but I came to the realization that I produce really crappy books in the pressure of NaNo, so instead, I am going to endeavour to post a new poem every day this month.
As well, I plan to get some pieces submitted, so my goal to submit or publish 20 pieces in 2020 is achieved. So far, 11 submissions, 9 to go. If I can find a few places that accept simultaneous submissions, I might manage to get all 9 off in a day! Stay tuned.
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ignore ads from WordPress
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poem- Sibling Rivalry October 29, 2020
| The air was crisp |
| The sky was damp |
| My brother hissed |
| Under the lamp |
| The sky was damp |
| My sister screamed |
| Under the lamp |
| Its powerful beams |
| My sister screamed |
| The monster’s eyes |
| Its powerful beams |
| Her soul it fries |
| The monster’s eyes |
| The horror grows |
| Her soul it fries |
| Its hot breath blows |
| The horror grows |
| More monsters lurk |
| Its hot breath blows |
| My brother smirks |
| More monsters lurk |
| My brother hissed |
| My brother smirks |
| The air was crisp |
This was a demo pantoum written with my class today when they were introduced to the form. It took an unexpected turn! 🙂
If you scroll to the bottom, WordPress will probably link to a couple of other pantoums written with my classes in previous years. They are entertaining.
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(ignore any WordPress ads here)
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poem- winter evening October 26, 2020
A pantoum for a winter evening
Soft snow falling
Mysteries in hidden faces
Lost memories calling
Eyes whisper with brief gazes
Mysteries, hidden faces
Warm glances, tender touches
Eyes whisper with brief gazes
Sweet comfort, hesitant rushes
Warm glances, tender touches
Fire crackles, hearth heat
Sweet comfort, hesitant rushes
In the silence, our hearts beat
Fire crackles, hearth heat
Lost memories calling
In the silence, our hearts beat
Soft snow falling.
poem- walking in the sexy boots October 21, 2020
The morning skies were grey
but they saw the sashay
and knew it wasn’t a day
to stay that way, you
might construe something at play,
but my boots made the sky turn blue!
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FWIW- I was wearing my purple velvet, sparky embossed leather and black patent leather Fluevog Atria boots today. No such thing as ‘too much.’ 😉
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(Ignore any ads added by WordPress. They’re not endorsed by me, unless, of course, you see a Fluevog ad! In which case, very much endorsed. 🙂 )
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poem- fingers back October 19, 2020
Once again
the adage’s proven true,
when you point at someone,
three fingers point back to you.
What you’re calling out
is probably your issue, too;
the louder you shout,
the clearer the cue!
Shawn L. Bird 