We’ll Get Together Later
like a Netflix queue, like a Youtube Watch Later list
I’m putting it on hold ’til I’ve got more time
my current favorite is watching my life dissolve
like scum under cleaner in the bathtub
friends, colleagues, and family disappear
until there’s only a slab of cold indifference left
I have all the time in the world now
to marathon the new show everyone’s talking about
I pushed and worked and ignored
to end up alone with the tv
Maybe this one’s a little rushed but I did what I try to do at least once during National Poetry Writing Month, and that is finish a poem that I have been working on for a year or more. I have been working at this one for well over a year. Today’s prompt for National Poetry Month was to write a lament poem. What do you think? I would really love some feedback on this one.
the ground freezes
but my baby never has
he grows to a boy
nothing can hold him still
propelled by winds of change
Sometimes it is crazy how fast they grow. Here is a tanka that I forgot I wrote. I go through my poetry at the beginning of the year and get it all organized and put into Word Documents and on my Evernote account so that I don’t lose any of it. Do you do that as a writer or poet?
write ’til your fingers bleed
write ’til your eyes close
’til your mind quiets
let the confusion sort itself
on the page
let anger sorrow and anxiety
fall down and break open
for when everything is out
nothing is in, and then
sleep can take you away
This poem was inspired by a picture posted on the #dimpleverse hashtag and poetry account on Twitter.
I didn’t want this to be a dark poem, I wanted it to be about hope. If you found hope in this poem, please leave me a comment below, after all, it is International Blog Delurking Week.
everyone wants an
honest answer from us
as long as it’s nice
So this is not really haiku, and I almost erased it except that people on Twitter liked it so much. This may be senryu, but I think it’s a stretch. Read the definition for senryu on my What is Haiku? page and tell me what you think in the comments on this post.
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
traveling the road to work
same hawk in the tree
is he bored by me
my mouth can barely
contain the anger rising
#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.
porcelain blue frog
doesn’t eat the red wasps
he is a fake
I have always liked the classics
my latest: #
old hopes and dreams
erasing pins and deleting links
flowers that didn’t bloom
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
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.
I used to have a handle on life, but it broke. –Anonymous
I did not feel inspired by the photo prompt for Friday Fictioneers this week. It is probably me and not them. I am really tired. I also forgot to post a tanka for Tanka Tuesday. Next week will be the last tanka that I will post for a while so don’t miss it (as always, follow me with your email to get all of my poems). The month of March will be a CRAZY month for me at work, so you will not hear from me much. Please be understanding. I am in a transition period in my life. I don’t know what this summer will bring, and I dare not look as far forward as the Fall.
rising from the dead
the daffodils and lilies
show me how hope sprouts
If you are unsure of the rules of haiku then please go to my What is Haiku? page.
Also, stop by the Facebook page where most of us poets meet to get a prompt and share our work. It would also be nice of you to go to that page and click Like on people’s posts to encourage them in their writing.
Today’s prompt was “zombies”. Yesterday I watered my trees and a few of my flowers because it has been so dry here. I have been reading posts from my friends online, saying how their daffodils had sprouted. This filled me with trepidation because I have waited a year to see if the daffodils I planted would come back. I transferred a bunch of my mom’s flowers to my yard last year, wanting some of the tradition flowers to grow in my yard. It looks like they have all made it, I have several flowers sprouting in my flowerbed, in my pots and in my yard. This makes me so happy, and it was the shot of joy I needed to get through this week.
the blue jay squawks
telling the dog something
a zinger I’m sure
If you are unsure of the rules or form of haiku, please go to my What is Haiku? page. You can stop by the Facebook page where most of us poets meet to get a prompt and try crafting a haiku poem yourself. Yesterday’s prompt was “zinger”. I feel like I didn’t do that great, but at least I wrote a poem and got it posted.
I have always liked the classics
I have been trying to reach a little and use the prompt creatively this year. We are over halfway through #nahaiwrimo how are you doing? Have you been trying new things?
If you are unsure of the rules/definition/form of haiku then please go to my What is Haiku? page. Feel free to direct any friends there who may be unsure of what is happening in the poetry community this month.
Also, tell them to check out the Facebook page where most of us poets meet to get a prompt and share our work. Today’s prompt was “zinfandel ”.