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Writing poetry every morning, like EVERY morning lately has done some good things for my psyche.
But not watching the news in the morning probably helps even more. I used to come down with my coffee and turn on the news – no more.
I wanted to be part of the solution, I am not going to be part of the problem, and in my work and heart I’m doing good for people.
I have one life. That’s enough for everyone else to take. I’ve given quite enough.
In the beginning
our sleeping arrangements were
“only once in a while”.
That didn’t keep it
from being a fairytale;
you were my whole world.
When the bed was ours
I won the damn lottery,
is this what’s called luck?
Today’s poetry prompt words were: sleeping arrangements, fairytale, and lottery.
Photo by Wyxina Tresse on Unsplash
I don’t want a big life,
but I don’t want a
small life either.
I want a calm, happy,
fulfilled life,
which is one I
doubt I’ll ever have.
Can you believe it
when I tell you I
want my parent’s life?
That I want their
quiet, steadfast love,
their iron belief
in each other?
I spent so many
years trying to
run from them
telling myself this
is the worst
that can happen to me
and I was so wrong.
It would be the best thing
to go to bed and never
wonder whether
the one you love
wants … Read the rest
You can tell I’m nervous when I don’t shut up, when I turn into a chatterbox that will do or say anything to avoid having to do or say what has to be done or said. I am not brave. I am not fearless. I am not even casual, ever, it’s always all or nothing for me, this or that.
But when it comes to you I’m able to slow down. Really, I have no choice. Your skin against mine creates a still silence that comes from nowhere else, only you, you soft mouse.
No one will hear you unless … Read the rest
When you were younger you read that Robert Frost poem like everyone else in school and spent years dreaming of that point in your life where two paths finally diverge. All those years you spent trudging down that pin-straight road, fretful for the future, trying not to detour into the thick woods like the thickheaded people who think they know better.
You keep your eyes forward and back straight, plodding along as more and more people fall by the wayside or disappear into the forest, and you can feel it when you’re finally alone, when there’s nothing but you and … Read the rest
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