Category: poetry

uncertain most days
head, heart, soul always searching
finding only fear

April 23rd
Prompt: Write a Fear Poem

They’ve all left
and the house is so quiet
it makes me physically ill

Sun rises bright
while birds sing their morning hymns
but all I can see is black

Day is done
and the room is empty, yet
I can still hear the voices

My head hurts
I make no move to stop it
At least I can feel something

Seven days
have passed and I have just one
last question to ask… what now?

April 22nd
Prompt: Write a What (Blank) Poem

When I saw her there
it was as if the wound opened fresh.
There was a catch in my breath,
and in my step,
causing me to lean against the giant oak,
in the park where they’d meet,
years ago,
before she knew of me.

Only a yard or so away
I spied the purpose for her presence.
A young girl, playing quietly,
wearing a bright red bow.
There it was,
the thing I couldn’t give him.
And that red…
rushing to my face now,
like it had rushed from my body that day…

I watch
but for only a moment.
And that moment was enough.
As I turned to walk away,
I felt the first tear fall.

April 21st
Prompt: Write a Six Words Poem 
(A poem using at least three of these six words – or a six word poem for each word: Bow, Lean, Park, Saw, Tear, and Wound)

sometimes
stealthy, slinky
the cat
tires of being clever
of observing
of chasing the light
or batting the string

sometimes
playful, energetic
the dog
tires of being happy
of napping
of chasing the ball
or licking the hand

sometimes
frantic, nocturnal
the hamster
tires of being tiny
of gnawing
of being caged in
or running on the wheel

sometimes
loud, fierce
the lion
tires of being feared
of protecting
of always watching over
or roaring at others

sometimes
light, melodic
the bird
tires of being scared
of singing
of nesting over and over
or flying from place to place

sometimes
the animals within
just need a rest

April 20th
Prompt: Write an Animal Poem

Coughs and wheezes
for hours on end
Eyes blurred, nose clogged,
sleep is no friend

Breaths deep and labored
tissues scattered about
Day would be better
if it could be hacked out

Since childhood, this is how
it has always been
She’s not alone, she’s knows
other women, men

Those who detest, despise,
abhor the putrid stuff
That would end the mis’ry
when enough is enough

Pushed to the limit
Can’t take another night
Has to find her sleep
Is left with no more fight

She pours the unnatural green
into a tiny cup
Holds her nose, says a prayer and
surrenders. Bottoms up!

April 19th
Prompt: Write a Taste Poem
(Been a rough week. Playing catch up today.)

Hey you
here we are…
Mortgage
Mower
Utilities
Ball and chain,
Old man,
Old lady,
Old people
Laundry
Dishes
Morning breath
Jobs
Carpools
Teenagers
Arguments
Forever and always…

April 18th
Prompt: Write a Love Poem and/or an Anti-Love Poem
This is the anti-love poem.
(Not for nothing, but after 38 years together… this seems like a love poem too.)

Dearly beloved
we are gathered here today…
Hearts
Flowers
Candles
Husband and wife,
Husband and husband,
Wife and wife,
Person and person
Equal
Happy
Beautiful
Strong
Children
Joy
Love
Forever and always…

April 18th
Prompt: Write a Love Poem and/or an Anti-Love Poem
This is the love poem.

I used to have it
Now seems lost
Out with the garbage
Maybe I tossed

When I was younger
I had a ton
Lately though
I seem to have none

Courage, boldness,
Spontaneity too
Seems they all left
As if part of a coup

To get it back
Must I be stronger
Or be the one
To hold out longer

I don’t need much
To see me through
Without it though
What will I do?

April 17th 
Prompt: Write a Nerve Poem

they sit
on the edge of knowing
on the edge of fleeing
praying someone will reel them in
prove them wrong
lift them up
to where the sun shines
light on their worry
on their fears
on their sadness

it wouldn’t take much
they think
to change this black to day
this wrong to right
this sadness to joy
just lift us up
to where we can see the good
see the happy
see our dreams fulfilled
and our tears wiped away

it wouldn’t take much
they think

in the black of night
while quiet is at its loudest
they arrive, one
after another, after another

tiny at first
just a nudge
a whisper
a faint suggestion

enough to wake
and lie in question
as to the possibility
of further slumber

they begin to grow
sprouting arms that wrap
themselves around my head
and fingers that prop my eyes open

thoughts of sleep are plucked
from my brain and tossed aside
like cigarette butts with the possibility
of reigniting, only to eventually burn out

they push aside lists and priorities
they push aside daily commitments
they push aside attempts at comfort
they dance in my head and scream from within

until at last, with no choice left
I rise from bed, careful to be quiet
no need to wake others who are held
close by that stranger called Sleep

down the stairs, shush the dog
turn on the lowest lights
start the pot, pour the cream
at last I sit, pen in hand

April 16th
Prompt: Write a The Blank of a Blank Poem