A night bleeds,
always
dreams crease
and bend around
your head
filling words
and spaces
with unknown
lives lived in
another world.
Tag: poetry practice
Today is the Day Sirens Scream [a poem]
She slips into something more comfortable, a beaming
grin with sly eyes and slinks towards the edge of the
water. A toe in the icy blue, a shiver up her leg. Today is
the day the sirens scream will alert everyone. Today is
the day, the froth of clouds above will become the
canvass to a scene of despair below. She untangles her
bikini and inches into the water, drowning out the sounds
of the children playing, the people laughing on the beach with
each sloshing step. Closer, closer to the depths, another shiver races
up her spine to rest at the base of her neck like a necklace of ice.
She takes in a breath, but not too big, shudders, and dives into the black.
Revel in the Rot [a poem]
A creased page, bruised spine,
an inked line under a string of words.
I inhale the aroma of mold, paper
decomposing and revel in the rot.
Inked words embossed, one word and
then another, meaning compounded.
I close the book, place it smoothly on the shelf
a sister among sisters sleeping in the dust.
Poetry Practice: Word of the Day “Storm”
Poetry Practice: Choose a word and write a poem. Ideally this practice works best when you pick a random word every day and push yourself to write a poem.
Rolling thunderous clouds smother the tops of trees,
a brush of wind, a lingering electricity hovering in the
air. A crack, snap, as a wiry white finger touches earth.
A glittering of water, drops plunk, plop, tap tap tap
into a quietus roar.
This past month has been something else. I haven’t been posting as much as I process what’s going on in the world and my personal life. Big changes are ahead even though the past year is still revolving in the back of my mind. The U.S. is opening up, some people are vaccinated, and the Israel–Palestine crisis is reverberating throughout the world. It feels like so many are scrambling to return to life pre-pandemic but the world is not the same and there is no going back. What happens to those of us stuck in the past? Stuck in our political ideologies? What happens as we split in two, one focused on the past and the other focused on the future? These are questions that keep revolving in my mind as I prepare to move out of state, fully-vaccinated, ready to handle whatever comes my way. I feel like a sponge that is still soaking up everything that’s happened; can I decompress, process, and clarify the various thoughts that swarm inside my brain? What’s next? My upcoming Poetry Reading at the Utah Arts Festival in August. See my About page for more details.
Poetry Practice: Word of the Day “Hailstone”
Poetry practice: create a list of words with a theme, pick a word of the day and write an impromptu poem. For today, I have chosen “hailstone.”
flicker of lighting across the horizon.
thunderous applause. tide swells.
salty-foam creases, lathers cliffside.
a fine mist evolves, rain. hailstones plunk and
plop onto the shore. a crack of light,
a rumble roars in the distance.
This practice is used to push the boundaries of a poem. Have a word suggestion? Leave a comment below.