he breaks the flower’s back
puts it in the vase he wants it in
dying beauty on display
This is a political poem about domestic violence. October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month so I thought now would be an appropriate time to share it. I know it’s longer than a haiku should be but I liked it and didn’t want to trash it. Tell me your thoughts on this poem below in the comments.
after the funeral
sign for a wedding
flowers that bloom again
I wrote this one last year after a really hard week. I really was coming home from a funeral and passed a sign for a wedding that had happened earlier.
red sun, black moon
sun gazing for the first time
8- 21- 2017
I started writing again the day of the Full Solar Eclipse. I started writing poetry, but I have had trouble typing up blog posts. Side note, there are people out there who are “sun gazers” who stare at the sun. Don’t do that. But do leave me a like and a comment!
birds from the Graphics Fairy
I grasp at warm air
unable to hold it
gray bird wings
This was written for a #haikuchallenge prompt on Twitter. It is easier to post every day of the week when I don’t try to add a story or thought to my posts. Leave me a comment and tell me if you like blogs that add stories to their poems, or if you like it when just the poem is posted. All of the statistics say that our posts should be over 500 words long and have at least 1 image if not 3. As a reader, what are your thoughts?
colorful leaves taken by
a cold winter wind
I wrote this at the beginning of the year for a #MSpoetry prompt on Twitter.
rabbit hides in the
shadow of the sapling
he looks silly
then I remember I said
I’d be grateful for small things
So I said I’d share haiku, and this is a tanka. Oops. At least I am going to share every day this week. I managed to get my posts scheduled. I used to do Tanka Tuesdays because for a while I was churning them out. I also wrote and shared over a year’s worth of small stones poetry which is basically micropoetry. Click the bolded words to find more of my work. Remeber to hit Like when you like what you read!
There’s no rabbit in the picture if you’re looking! I didn’t get a picture of him, so this will have to do.
traces of the
baby you used to be
when I hold you
I could have sworn that I already posted this haiku to the blog, but I can’t find it when I search for it, so maybe not. I know that I posted it on Twitter the night that I wrote it. I am going to try to post a haiku every day this week to make up for being away lately. The more you hit Like and Share the more motivated I am!
Friday Fictioneers is a group of bloggers who write 100-word stories after being inspired by a photo prompt posted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. It is not a closed group; you can join in! Click on Rochelle’s name and you’ll find the details there.
We are allowed to use the photo (taken by another FriFic writer) in our post and encouraged to leave each other comments. I write my story before I read any of the other writers’ creations. This week’s short story is 99-words long.
PHOTO PROMPT © Kelvin M. Knight
It wasn’t quite a heart. It was warped. And so was their love.
Suzanne stepped away from the counter. She needed no more signs; no more pleading calls from her sister, no more tight smiles from her boss, no more sighs from her friend Janice. Suzanne didn’t mean to do it quietly but she did. She left dinner undone, put on her jean jacket, picked up her brown leather purse and stepped out the back door. The door didn’t squeak as it usually did. It was as if even the house knew it was time for her to leave.
Hey everyone, I managed to get inspired last night and I wrote some new poetry. You can check out my short poems on Twitter by going through the widget. This is the first time that I’ve been able to sit down and write a 100-word story for Friday Fictioneers in a while. Let me know what you think! I was not feeling well this weekend (or today) but somehow felt like writing.
PHOTO PROMPT © Danny Bowman
As the mishmash of beings deplaned, they complained about being relocated to a desert planet. Ashley squinted and said nothing. She thought she saw flowering cacti in front of her. She cupped her long green fingers over her black eyes to see better. A blue female bemoaned her luck, “Just because I can tolerate the heat doesn’t mean I like it!”
Ashley started walking toward the plateau. The top of it would make a fine home. She was called Ashley because by the time she had been born her planet was nothing but ash. But from the ashes, she would rise.
white horse on white snow
hard to tell the two apart
mixture of feelings
Still in limbo. I’m trying to get to where I need to be, but it isn’t easy. I am really wanting to post more, but life happened. Please stick with me as I am still writing and will be posting poetry for years to come.
a day so heavy
not even old glory stirs
heat from the orange sun
I said I wanted to write more political poetry a couple of years ago. I think I’ve written 3 since then. By the way, this looks like a cloudy day, but it was very sunny and hot.