at her feet
is no place
I wrote this for a prompt from #FieryVerse on January 6, 2017. If you are on Twitter, follow me to see these the same day that I write them. Don’t forget, while it’s easier to like and share on Twitter, you can like and share my blog posts as well.
broken down with nothing to hide.
They’re not dancing in a mascaraed ball
trying to impress a suitor.
They just are.
With arms lifted they shout
here I am.
They aren’t trying to hide anything.
They are so transparent
you can see houses through them.
They don’t bend their branches
to try to hide their roots.
They stand naked before you
and dare you to judge them
tangled birds’ nests and all.
They are stoic
as winter winds beat against them.
If only people
could be as honest and open
as the trees.
I thought you guys might need a break from the mommy poetry so I decided to share this today. I will get back in town tomorrow, but I will not have time to respond to any comments until this weekend.
Dear Lord 1
Dear Lord ease this pain
Don’t leave me to be slain
I need you Lord, I need you now
Doctors, I need you anyhow
Forget the meds, forget the scripts
Please keep me from the crypts
I know you can, I know you will
Slowly I swallow this pill
I find it easier to get through the week if I pray, read The Bible, read quotes and posts from other Christians, and do a devotion in the morning.
What spiritual habits help you get through the week?
Storm Coming In
Like a deer
I can smell the rain
Before it gets here
I feel the electricity building
Looking up at the sky I see
The clouds have darkened
Sunny blue is giving way to
Even the sky is tired of the heat
It voices its annoyance
Through claps of thunder
And cloud to ground lightning
The tension has gotten so thick
That even the sky
Can’t stand it anymore
There has been too much death
Too many ruined crops
Someone had to give us
So the sky cried on us
For a moment
Written during the worst drought, since the Dust Bowl which was in the 1930’s.
Heat/temperature records are being broken all across the United States. How is the heat affecting you?
The heart on my sleeve
gets broken all too often.
You’d think I would
take it off my sleeve,
and pin it to my chest,
where it would be harder to reach.
You’d think I’d take it
put it in a box and lock it
shut with a padlock.
There would be no chance
of anyone tearing or piercing it.
How many times will I sew it up?
How many needles have I dulled
putting the pieces back together?
I think I have lost
some pieces along the way.
My heart is tired and frayed.
Functioning at 100% nice
is getting harder and harder.
Tomorrow when I am weak
I may tear someone else’s heart.
Because that’s what broken hearts do.
They break other hearts
because broken is all they know.
Are you tired of having to sew your heart back up?
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Eating a Pear
Its texture is so grainy, you’re offended
But you forgive it, because it’s so sweet
Its juices drip down your face
At first you’re angry
But then you laugh
You know that something this good
Could never be contained
This poem doesn’t really fit anywhere and I think that is why it has been rejected.
It’s not formal, it’s not a haiku or any type of poem except maybe free verse.
It doesn’t rhyme.
It’s an odd subject.
And yet, I love it. I will not throw it out.
Guess that means I’m still failing.