A look at my poems from the last 17 years.

Since I have written over 900 poems I thought that  I would post some my poems here just for fun. Here are some of my poems that I have written on my 17-year journey. I have been writing since 1999. I wrote my first poem (The Run) when I was 11 so keep that in mind as you read through these. I meant to write this post in my 15th year of writing, but being a mom and getting a serious job has re-arranged my world.
Now, for those of you who would like to walk through my work, here you go:
 
#1 The Run
I am wheelchair bound until he says good riddance. This cast I say is a lot of pain
 
I don’t regret the pain for now my troubles are slain. Now I can run wild and free.
 
I used to walk high, now I walk with pride. I am loved by all. Now I can run like all.
 
They left me behind, but now they are blind, by the dust in their eyes.
 
Though I may moan I have backbone. Now I can walk out the door before they lock the door.
 
My mind says “No” but my heart says, “Go!” So watch now as I flow, run, skip, hop, jump, prance, and walk perfectly.
 
#100 Making the World Right
Sneaky fingers reaching out for my mind
Gut emotions squeezing my sides
Blindfolded people swinging out with clubs
Hateful words stinging the ears
Tears soaking my face, hiding truth
Hands gripping, holding on to the only clear thing
Love breaks through in the form of lips
Honeysweet words dance across skin
Flowing into ears sorting out truth
Love conquers all chasing away evil and hate
And at the end of the night, my world is just right
 
#200 Panic in the Forest (published on Poet Daily)
Like a wounded deer struggling in the snow,
I fear I’ll never rise again.
The fear makes it hard to breathe
 
makes the world seem so cold.
I see the blood dripping on the snow
and the panic chokes me.
 
Everything spins and I get dizzy.
I can’t get my legs under me.
The ground so solid comes rushing up
 
I am still…
 
#300 Thanksgiving at Grandma’s
We wipe the wet leaves off of our feet
and step into the warm house to look around,
thankful for several things including heat.
I put the food on the table
and go to the freezer to check out the desserts.
They’re all old favorites, none need a label.
I make my way back to the front of the house
an aunt grabs me and talks about how the kids have grown.
Someone makes a nice comment about my blouse.
We notice who has cut their hair and who has let it grow.
Some admit to dyeing their grays as we talk about age.
A baby toddles over, what a cute bow!
As we wait for the turkey to be carved,
we can smell the corn, stuffing, and gravy,
and we talk about how we’re starved.
After the Blessing is said, we line up,
and dip out food onto Styrofoam plates
walking in a circle, holding our cup.
Most find a place to sit, but some stand.
Someone mentions the cousin we wish was here
and not fighting in a strange land.
Later we talk about the kids and arrange
what kid got who this year,
we draw for the exchange.
We give long hugs and decide what to bring
next month when we get together for Christmas,
once again the doorbell will ring.
 
#400 Silent Battlefield
The battlefield at Carthage is silent now.
As silent as it was 150 years ago
before the people there grew angry
and a small creek ran red with blood.
It was a part of The Civil War
but there was nothing civil about it.
Brothers stabbed brothers
in the land of the free.
Guerillas bushwhacked soldiers
in the home of the brave.
More concerned with state’s rights than men’s
they shed blood on ground that did not care
about the color of the hand that tilled it.
Today that small wood is still
except for the singing of the birds.
The only dark place is the small cave.
Giggling children fail to realize the horror
that once stomped through these fields.
Some people still smell the powder burning
but they are relics soon to be stored
like the guns and uniforms at the museum.
It is a peaceful park now, with gentle shadows
and only signs to remind us of the war.
©Symanntha Renn 6-10-12
 
#500 untitled
traveling the road to work
same hawk in the tree
is he bored by me
 
#600 untitled 
my mouth can barely
contain the anger rising
poked rattlesnake
 
#700 Soft Like Velvet
They were red
soft like velvet
and smelled great.
But I didn’t know
it was the end
I didn’t know they
were graveyard roses.
 
#800 untitled
porcelain blue frog
doesn’t eat the red wasps
he is a fake
 
#900 untitled
traditional red
I have always liked the classics
rose bush
 
my latest: #
old hopes and dreams
erasing pins and deleting links
flowers that didn’t bloom
9-21-2016
 
poet symanntha renn failing at haiku image

Delayed Reaction

frost on leaf,dandelion,autumn

Frozen Wishes

This poem is about the day that we brought my grandfather home to die. He died about 3 months after we brought him home. He died 10 years after my mom’s mother died, 10 years later on the exact day. September is such a bad month for my family.

  Delayed Reaction

Standing in the elevator my ears close
They curl up and refuse to hear anymore
My eyes begin to dim like a bad bulb
Because they don’t want to see
I grab the bar to keep myself standing
I have to walk out of this hospital
We have to go home and get ready
He has one weekend left
The man who faced down Nazis
Who kept the Germans from
Breaking through the Bulge
Cannot keep his body from malfunctioning
He has fought off heart attacks
So now his brain is having strokes
The small attacks are beating him down
They have paralyzed his legs and one arm
He drove a tank over The Alps
and across the Rhine to free people
Now he drives a wheelchair across the kitchen
My aunt is trying to talk to me
But I’m not really hearing the words
The moment did not knock me down
Or throw me over oblivion’s edge
Instead it is slowly dragging me to the floor
Is my blood sugar low
No my realization is high
Death is standing in the shadows
Of my grandfather’s hospital room
We make Boston Cream Pie as we wait
For the ambulance to bring him home
Because diabetes has finally won
And he can have sugared strawberries

9 Months through this year.

fog,early morning,trees,bushes,black and white photo,

In the 9th month of 2016, a childhood friend of mine died. She was the first of my Graduating Class to pass away. This is the year we are all turning 30. She was one of the people that went to school with me from kindergarten to 12th grade. I suppose I should be grateful it took this long for someone from our class to pass away, but it is still sad. It was very sudden and very sad. Life continues to knock me off of my feet in a new and horrible way every month.

My toe still really hurts but at least I can walk with regular shoes on now. I am still using the boot thing throughout the day at work. It protects me better. I am hoping that I will not have any pain by next week.

tall purple flame phlox

only flower seen at night

burn bright

  7-18-15

This year has been hard in every aspect. Physically, mentally, and emotionally. At work, at home, at church. I have had road blocks and obstacles on every path, every day. I understand why God gave me the verse “He will not fear bad news;” as the verse to lean on this year. I have had to pray over that verse and say it out loud almost every day this year.

But I am still here and I am bound and determined to work hard for my family and do a good job at work. I am bound and determined to do a good job at church. I am bound and determined to be a good wife and a good mom. My 7-year-old son still wants to hold my hand when we walk into school so I guess I am doing a few things right.

FF | First Holiday Together

Friday Fictioneers is a group of bloggers who write 100-word stories after being inspired by a photo posted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The photo comes from a different Fictioneer each week. We are allowed to use the photo in our post and encouraged to leave each other comments. I always appreciate anyone who takes the time to leave me a comment. I write my story before I read any of the other writers’ creations.  This story is 112 words long. I was afraid I would lose the mood if I cut any more out.

lights inside,light display,

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

 
   First Holiday Together
 
Evelyn stretched out on the cool grass. She had finally gotten what she wanted. Roger beside her for a holiday. He had wasted so many with his wife.
 
She turned to him and smiled. He was wiping away tears.
 
“What’s wrong dear?”
 
“I can’t help but miss her. We spent so many years together. I can’t believe she left without kissing the kids goodbye.”
 
Evelyn looked back up at the fireworks. She was seething inside.
 
All of that work to make sure she’s gone and he’s whining. He said if she’d leave we could be together. Can’t he just enjoy the fact that things are the way they are supposed to be?

What I learned about God from growing flowers.

If you look through these photos you will see a progression. It is the same progression that we go through with God. First, we are small weak vines and we need a branch to support us. Just like my moonflower vine. As we grow and get stronger we manage to grow flowers and we look good.

Then God cuts us. And it doesn’t seem to make sense.

But after we recover, we can grow stronger in our roots or at our base. After I prune my moonflower vine, it puts out more flowers. Instead of growing in a hundred directions and making no fruit, it thickens up and produces beautiful results. Look at all of the extra blooms in the bottom photos.

The last photo is a photo of the seed pod. We can only produce fruit after we mature and go through pruning and redirecting from God. I realized this one day while I was cutting back my vine.

I added 2 haiku in with the photos.

img_6501img_5165

 

does the moonflower

think about its tendrils

as it climbs the trellis

img_5323

img_5337

 

img_5406

img_5469  img_5449

not wanting to be
judged in the harsh light of day
closed moonflower bloomimg_5451

IMG_5455.JPG

img_5578

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FF | Realization in the Basement

Friday Fictioneers is a group of bloggers who write 100-word stories after being inspired by a photo posted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. We are allowed to use the photo in our post and encouraged to leave each other comments. I always appreciate anyone who takes the time to leave me a comment. I write my story before I read any of the other writers’ creations. I know that I haven’t posted much lately, but I am trying to get back into the swing of things. More likes encourage me to post! This story is 105 words long.

unfinished room,wheat grinders,grain grinders,basement,

PHOTO PROMPT © Shaktiki Sharma

  Realization in the Basement

Staci stared at the half finished basement realizing what she had done.
When they were 18, she had an abortion.
“We can’t travel the world with a baby.”

She had taken a job at a fast food place a year later.
“Dad needs my help. We’ll leave for Europe when the business is doing better.”

She worked while he vacationed.
“It’s just Canada; it’s just a fishing trip. We’ll save money and start traveling next Fall.”

Then this.
“We’ll build a house now, so we have one to come back to.”

She had waited patiently for seven years and had not even left the state.

Haiku Spills Over

img_3253

moss spills over
the edge of the container
not really contained

I wrote this for a #HaikuChallenge on twitter. I have not been able to participate in the challenges in a long time. I do miss that. One of these days life will calm down and I’ll get a rhythm going and I’ll try the challenges again. It won’t be this week. This week is going to be terrible.

How to Learn and How to Live

Learn as if you were going to live forever. Live as if you were going to die tomorrow.              –Mahatma Gandhi

I love this quote. It was my class motto.

library, books at the Missouri Governor's Mansion, Goodnight Moon

Haiku in the Garden

bright red flowers,red bloom,red blooms,

hellfire red blooms
narrow leaves of Lucifer
Sunday in the garden

 

I love my lucifer flowers. My flowerbed/garden is too sunny for bleeding hearts, so this is as close as I can get. Do you have flowers in your garden that are a substitute for something else?

A Quote on Kindness

Kindness has converted more sinners than zeal, eloquence or learning. 

                -Frederick William Faber

This is so true. I have learned this, on a deeper level, within the last 2 years or so.
Also, this is my 1,000 post! Yay!

I have so many more that I want to share. I am still enjoying this.
DSCN1991.JPG

School Haiku

black and yellow butterfly,butterfly palace,red flowers,

getting ready for school, butterflies frantically kiss little flowers

  August 12th, 2015

 

Every now and then I write a haiku in a way that really pleases me.

2 Quotes for Women’s Equality Day

Guilty? Yes. No matter what the motive, love of ease, or a desire to save from suffering the unborn innocent, the woman is awfully guilty who commits the deed. It will burden her conscience in life, it will burden her soul in death; but oh, thrice guilty is he who…drove her to the desperation which impelled her to the crime!

-Susan B. Anthony The Revolution, 1869 (on abortion)

A woman must not depend upon the protection of man, but must be taught to protect herself.   –Susan B. Anthony

Since it is the 45th Women’s Equality day, I gave you two quotes!

Women’s Equality Day commemorates the 19th Amendment to the Constitution, granting women the right to vote. In 1971, after much work, and at the urging of U.S. Representative Bella Abzug (D-NY), Congress designated August 26 each year as“Women’s Equality Day.” This day was selected to commemorate the passage of the 19th Amendment to the Constitution on August 26, 1920. This amendment granted women the right to vote.  This was the culmination of decades of effort by women suffragettes and other groups.  Their efforts dated back to first women’s rights convention in 1848 at Seneca Falls, New York.

You can celebrate this day in a number of ways. First, stop and celebrate the accomplishments made in gaining the right to vote, and towards equality for women. Second, be sure that you are registered to vote in your county before October! Third, sign a petition or educate yourself on a rights groups in your area.

us holiday,womens equality day,august 26,constitution,right to vote,19 amendment,