It is amazing
The lengths to which
The body can expand
To hold pain and poison
If a regular person
Were to be given 55 pills
Of Oxy or another opioid
They would die immediately
But if a person works at it
Slowly ingesting more and more
Hating themselves every day
They can build up
To that level of tolerance
Hate can take you far
Down dark paths
The question becomes
Can you get back
I started to write this almost 5 years ago. I decided to finish it this year because the opioid crisis has gotten worse instead of better. I was afraid that it didn’t sound like a poem but was more like prose. What do you think? Is it prose, just thoughts, or can it be a poem? Read these definitions and tell me what you think.
Prose: Any material that is not written in a regular meter like poetry. Many modern genres such as short stories, novels, letters, essays, and treatises are typically written in prose.
Sonnet: English (or Shakespearean) sonnets are lyric poems that are 14 lines long falling into three coordinate quatrains and a concluding couplet.
Free Verse: Free Verse is an irregular form of poetry in which the content-free of traditional rules of versification, (freedom from fixed meter or rhyme). In moving from line to line, the poet’s main consideration is where to insert line breaks. Some ways of doing this include breaking the line where there is a natural pause or at a point of suspense for the reader.
Blank Verse: Blank Verse is Poetry that is written in unrhymed iambic pentameter. Blank verse is often unobtrusive and the iambic pentameter form often resembles the rhythms of ordinary speech. William Shakespeare wrote most of his plays in blank verse.
naked men tower
monsters emerge from the dark
women find their voice
November 30, 2017
I wrote this senryu in wake of all of the women finally speaking up, or rather, speaking louder about sexual assault, rape, and being sexually harassed by a public figure. I realize more every day how lucky I am to NOT be a rape victim. I have had friends who were, which is why I write poetry about it. Also, apparently many of my favorite actors and singers are victims. I publish these pieces so those people know that they are heard.
the taste of ashes
does not quickly fade
it coats your nose
clouds the senses
casts you in an awful light
This poem was inspired by #sensewrds prompt 310 on Twitter. I often tweet out my new poems before I get a chance to put them in a blog post. Be sure to follow me on Twitter and Instagram to see my latest poems and pictures.
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.
colorful leaves taken by
a cold winter wind
I wrote this at the beginning of the year for a #MSpoetry prompt on Twitter.
My mind is like the flowers in the ditch
beautiful and trying to grow
but impeded by the dust covering it
trucks drive by spewing gravel and dust
leaving before you see the dust settle
before you see the aftermath clobber me
the haze of dust chokes me, makes it hard to take in the sun
you don’t even know you’ve stunted my growth
here I am standing, yet swaying under the weight
I look green and in my prime however
I can’t exchange air or sunlight for life
I need rain to pour down and wash away
the breadcrumbs of being rushed and angry
the marks of your leaving for paved road
coats every leaf of my existence
every petal questions the energy being used to untwist
if I’ll be smothered by indifference
forgotten by a line of trucks able to roam
why give you my colors, my display of brilliance
ignoring the pattern of my dress left me
feeling like unwanted blades of grass
If a coyote would only brush past
and knock some of the dirt off of me
so that I could breathe and shine and grow again
blooming down in the ditch is troublesome
you think I’m a weed to be forgotten
when really I was a seed spilled at the wrong moment
I was meant for a garden, I was meant to be loved
by a grandmother, herself forgotten by a husband
but I never got where I was going
I got left in the wrong dirt and now I bloom for strangers
I hope you’ve all enjoyed your week and your summer. I hope you’ve managed to shake off the dust and bloom where you are. This is the long poem I promised you. It is my newest poem.
strength drips out of me
my last candle burning
at both ends
I wrote this haiku for a #writtenriver prompt on Twitter. I am excited to see what this week will bring. It has been a trying year so far, but it may be about to turn around.
he floats closer
man of war seeking love
with a kiss that stings
I wrote this on May 28th, 2014 which was my son’s birthday. We took him to SeaLife for the first time and he loved it. It is one of the rare times I was able to write poetry on a happy day. Although, of course, the poem is not exactly a happy one. It was inspired by one of the most poisonous jellyfish known to man. (I don’t think those are the kind that are in the exhibit behind him.)
was supposed to last
for one winter
but spring never came.
The snow smothered us
under a sunless sky.
This was written for a #FieryVerse prompt on Twitter on January 23, 2017. I need to get back into the poetry circles on Twitter and start looking at these prompts every day. There are amazing prompts on Twitter every day and I would probably find more to write about if I would look them up. It would also help if Twitter would just show me the tweets as they are posted instead of showing me the tweets of those I interacted with last. Don’t you hate that?
she is digitized
she is not real flesh and blood
it’s not cheating
I wanted to share one of my more edgy haiku. I like to write senryu and other poems that are about modern situations when I can. Once again I hesitated to share a haiku for fear it would be taken the wrong way. My husband has never cheated on me, and I’ve never cheated on him, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to write about cheating. It doesn’t mean that I don’t see the effects that cheating has on people that I know.
in my brain unstable
I wrote this during National Haiku Writing Month. but I don’t think that I shared it.
Will you be writing haiku during February this year?? I think I will try to write a post one every day. I may do so without comments to make it easier on myself this year. Instead of giving you all kinds of links and explanations I will just post my haiku. If you want to figure out what I am doing there are tons of posts on my blog like this one to explain it fully.