GloPoWriMo – Day Twenty – ‘A Dirty Little Thought’

For day twenty we were given the prompt to write with rebellion in mind, I chose to rebel against my style and comfort – I do not usual write or prefer to write very short poems.

‘A Dirty Little Thought’

A modern day heart break
Is when your heart can’t break.
You’ve got apathetic eyes to see,
Can’t even be bothered to love
The person you want to be.

 

 

If you like my writing please check out my book Moth-Like. It can be bought on Amazon here for $6.99.

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GloPoWriMo – Day Seventeen – ‘And He Did, Twice’

The prompt for day seventeen was to write a poem that retells a family anecdote. This is a funny little story about my grandfather and the type of man he is…

‘And He Did, Twice’

There is a road
A hundred and seventy-six
Miles long, no gas station stops,
Just the car, the plains, the mountains
Steadily running through the back end
Of empty Oregon farm land and forest.

My grandfather loves a challenge,
Or he’s just dumb,
My grandmother has no problem telling you,
Because not once, but three different times
He turned down that road willingly with half a tank
Swearing he could make it.

 

If you like my writing please check out my book Moth-Like. It can be bought on Amazon here for $6.99.

GloPoWriMo – Day Seven – ‘Categories’

So today’s prompt was a little odd and complex, but refreshing to do. I will admit this one is kind of a mess. The prompt was to make a list of the different identities I have and then split them into two groups: Those that make me feel powerful and those that make me feel insecure. After those two groups are identified I was then to write a poem with the two groups having a conversation. I don’t like the current title so I may rename it in the future.. Anyway,  I hope you all enjoy the chaos!

 

‘Categories’

I don’t want you to forget
Who you are,
Who you’ve been.
There’s just been so much to learn
It’s hard to think about sometimes when alone-
Comparing ourselves to characters in books,
How we’ve grown and developed,
What’s our theme, what’s our setting,
Why are we acting this way
What are we trying to save.

There’s so much to know
And everything to explain.
We’ve grown so strong in recent years,
Comfortable, in many ways, a King among
The worlds in our mind. I understand but,
I don’t want you to feel less, forgotten, or ashamed
Of emotions.

But I am – and we know it, no matter how good
We are about making things okay that are better left
Forgotten. We can be the best, you are the best, I know,
A king of your own, ruler of body, mind, heart, but
Listen – I was never the one ashamed, just weary and scared.

I grew lost in existing with my head beside the stars.
I am lost constantly trying to find boxes to perfectly place
Gender, Sexuality, Religion, and Family – where do I stand
Where do I want to go, what to be, how can I fix myself
Before others try more vehemently to fix me.

The past is the past, we both know, but
I can never forget or forgive –
No matter how many books I read,
No matter how many papers I write,
No matter how hard or much I work,
Where we started,
What we started,
And where we’ve been:
A sister, a daughter, a granddaughter, a friend,
A problem child, an American, a quick learner, a hard worker,
An ambivert, asexual, greyromantic, genderless, deadheaded mess.

 

If you like my writing please check out my book Moth-Like. It can be bought on Amazon here.

GloMoWriMo – Day Three – ‘I’ll Fight ‘Em’

Good afternoon! Today’s GloMoWriMo prompt is to do a list poem using made up names and it was quite fun! I chose fighting moves. With this piece I’m officially caught up and should resume a semi-normal posting schedule!

‘I’ll Fight ‘Em’

My sister, ya’ve got a problem
And he’s about to be a mile long.
I’ll fix ’em for ya, for sure, I’ll give ’em
The Left Handed Brandy with some
Broken in Rocks, let ’em look at you again
And I’ll give him Two Pink Oranges
That I’ve had ready for ’em since last week.
He’ll know hell before he challenges heaven
Again – or I’ll show ’em the Last Man Lost
To teach him a true lesson about touching
Things he thinks he owns. If he talks to ya,
If he talks at ya again, like that, well,
Baby doll, I’ve got a Charlie’s Childhood Trauma
Waiting for ’em behind the Mad Boys Mall.
I’ll fight ’em from the south end of Concord
To the northern tip of Discord he thinks he can
Think about anybody, any bit of ya, like that
Again.

If you like my writing please check out my book Moth-Like. It can be bought on Amazon here.

GloPoWriMo – Day Two – ‘Curio Cabinet’

Today’s prompt for GloMoWriMo was to write a poem messing with perceptive. In a very unoriginal burst I wrote about a change of perceptive based on age. I hope you guys enjoy it regardless!

‘Curio Cabinet’

I saw it full of small wonders and horrors
All the porcelain teapots with their flowers
Eternally in bloom and cracked next to the army
Of dead eyed dolls dressed to their Victorian best.
There were bells of every size, color, and make
Sitting silently everyday I came by to play and
Which my little fingers were banned from touching.
I saw grandma’s curio cabinet and with my curiosity

I itched to run or move closer, moving closer with
Age. I wanted to know. I needed to know
As my short days turned into short months.
There was glass teddy bears next to wooden angles,
Pieces of Kinkade’s landscapes on cups and dishes,
A quirky music box in the form of a fancy lady,
A VHS box set of Shirley Temple and matching mug.
These were the things my grandma loved,
Those were the things I saw the curio full of.

 

If you like my writing please check out my book Moth-Like. It can be bought on Amazon here.

GloPoWriMo – Day Zero – ‘Tea Time’

It’s that time of year! Hopefully now that I’m moved and unpacked I’ll be able to write more. I’m going to be coming out with a chapbook in a few days, I was attempting to finish before the move, but unfortunately couldn’t. I’ve already written and typed the first few poems for GloPoWriMo, so by the end of the day I’ll be all caught up!

The first early bird prompt for GloPoWriMo is to write a love poem to an object.

‘Tea Time’

Time again, I will come to hold you close
Enjoying all I can from you, like your warmth,
Your comfort, your sweet disposition. Though
Time tends to be tough for the both of us
In our fragile, porcelain like existence full of
Moments like these, so delicious but left
Empty eventually. Such a causality – not a crime.

 

If you like my writing please check out my book Moth-Like. It can be bought on Amazon here.

Unprompted – ‘Keeping Tradition’

I have been writing very little so far this year, but really, I can’t seem to find the time with everything right now. In a month I will be moving across the country, and my hands have literally been full with the subject of this poem. (I am determined to give my grandmother a finished afghan back, and I am half done as you can see above. I should’ve planned the colors and patterns better, honestly.)

‘Keeping Tradition’

The family afghans and quilts are made
By hand for married grandchildren.
Our grandmother, when aged well, but not
Quite well aged, use to spend months
With the monks cloth braced between
Her piercing fingers, tracing the patterns
Weeks before the needle ever dared to dart
And plant the yarn between its timid floats.

We were all suppose to get one.
In determination she bought the cloth,
And cut it before we even knew our own names.
The colors were selected with some divine
Understanding of each one of us, knowing
What we’d grow to prefer in adulthood.
At each marriage announcement she began
Weaving with pride and fearlessness.

Everyone has had one gifted to them, but me-
My family is quickly growing tired of me
Not telling them all the important things
They think they want and are willing to know.
Finally, last month my grandmother handed me
Three yards of indigo monks cloth and two needles,
She told me that once I buy my yarn to start
With a diamond pattern – the best for beginners.

If you like my writing please check out my book Moth-Like. It can be bought on Amazon here.

Unprompted – ‘A Taste of Life’

A quick post for today, I finally finished this little piece after sitting on it for over a year. Hope you enjoy!

‘A Taste of Life’

In adulthood I have learned
To love the taste of many things.
Black coffee and cold tea, both
Sitting, waiting on my desk for me.

Alcohol sweet and burning,
Greeting me as welcome its fire
In the back of my throat
After a long exhausting day full of life.

And the world, oh the world I have tasted
In all it’s seasons, phases of growth and decay.
Sweet and ripe summer, chilly crisp winter,
The clouds, the air, the sunshine all on my lips.

I have learned to love the taste of life.
With my tongue, my teeth – gorging myself
On my memories, bright candy like fragments,
And rotten, half chewed stories spanning years.

I have learned the taste of so many things,
Happiness, inspiration, disappointment, and fear.
I have tried to eat all of them at least once-
I have swallowed sadness and pride.

I’ve tasted my remorse and salty tears.
I have ate everything I have dared to eat-
Even love, but I found it was too bitter
Or maybe it was too sweet for me.

If you like my writing please check out my book Moth-Like. It can be bought on Amazon here.

NaNoWriMo – ‘Multidimensional Love’

Sorry in advance for any formatting errors! I’m having to type this on my phone as I’m traveling.

 

‘Multidimensional Love’

I am a creator of many worlds,
Is it incumbent upon myself that
I treat them all with love.

They are my scars, whole valleys
Baring the lives of thousands I will
Never fully know.

They are my lashes, my hair,
My nails, things that are apart of me,
Yet I am so quick to lose unknowingly.

Whole worlds die and live on my skin,
Little villages, colonies, nations,
And many more inside of me will thrive.

My fantasies are alive, multiple personalities
Branching off of a single curious whim, acted
Out in walking and sleeping dreams.

Tell me, why I cannot love them? Why should
I not love them? Them in all their horrors
And grace – them existing in me.

It’s magic, it’s witchcraft, its power in basic
Realization that I am more than me,
I am beyond a single being.

 

 

If you like my writing please check out my book Moth-Like. It can be bought on Amazon here.

NaNoWriMo – ‘All In Time’

It’s been a productive and good day, surprisingly – it wasn’t as productive as I’d like and I woke up with a migraine – but at least I got caught up on sleep. I ended up having a three day weekend at the cost of having only one day off next week. I’m also many thousand behind on word count for NaNoWriMo, but I don’t mine. I did a count and I’ve got almost 40 stand alone pieces written this month! Sadly, I haven’t been making much progress with the epic.

Today’s poem is a little lighter than usual! I hope you all enjoy!

 

‘All In Time’

Listen to me, I know you’re scared
Of the future and what terrible things
It holds for us, us and our unlucky lives-
But look me in the eyes, now, look at me.

My dear, it will be okay, I will be there.
The chickens may be coming home to roost
While we take off across this country,
But together we will suffer, together, unlucky.

It’s pandemonium, I know, the planning, our attempt
At planning for the unforeseen unavoidable future.
We’ve lived and will live to see worse things, Love,
The boxes are already piled at the door.

I’m ready, my Dear, I’m ready to leave
And make a new home in hell with you.
I know and understand your worries, and true,
It will be hard, it won’t be just us two.

We’ll roost, all of us, a little patchwork quilt
Of conflicting, damaged pasts and lives.
A little chaotic, off-centered family to try and forget
The blood made ones and their brash lies.

Come here, or I will come there, in time, in time.
Listen to me, it will be just fine all in time, I will
Work together with you to make your home mine.
All our little messes will come together, it’ll be alright.

 

If you like my writing please check out my book Moth-Like. It can be bought on Amazon here.