Lipgloss

Screen Shot 2017-04-12 at 10.19.04 PM

Brighten
Bee-stung
Bow-shaped lips
With burgundy blush.
Swab some
shiny,
sleek,
slick,
slippery,
shimmery, silicate silk
sideways
To play up
That part that pouts.
Grab a tube of
Glassy glimmer glitter
A tube of twilight tulips
A wand with wintry wine
Or be
Pleasantly Pleased
with plain pink.

NaPoWriMo.net – Day 12 – “Today, I’d like you to write a poem that explicitly incorporates alliteration (the use of repeated consonant sounds) and assonance (the use of repeated vowel sounds). This doesn’t mean necessarily limiting yourself to a few consonants or vowels, although it could. Even relatively restrained alliteration and assonance can help tighten a poem, with the sounds reinforcing the sense.”

Portrait of a Student Who Desperately Wants to Learn

 

Hearing a hullabaloo from
the next classroom over,
I hopped into the hallway
To see a student spewing sass at her teacher.

She flips her hair and rolls her eyes.
At the same moment —
Smack —
A smart snapping sound sails off her lips.
“Whatever,” she huffs,
Crossing one arm over the other,
Pointing her elbows out
Like the quills of a porcupine.
“I didn’t want to be in your class anyways!”

She pivots,
Fifty percent ballerina, fifty percent basketball player—
One hundred percent attitude.

I spy
the same student
several hours later,
Beside a classmate,
During after school tutoring,
Blatantly whispering
“You know what I hate?”
She begs of her buddy,
“Teachers that say they don’t care.”

Her companion corroborates,
“Mmm-hmm.”

“They should know
I’m fronting.

They got something
And I want what they got.
That’s why I show up.
Now, why would you
Tell someone
Who show up
Everyday
That you don’t care ‘bout them?
Ain’t you the grown-up here?”

Again, her friend
Renders Assent,
“Mmm-hmm.
They should
just know, no
Matter what,
No matter how you act
No matter what you say,
That you want
What they got.
They should
just know.”


 

NaPoWriMo.net – Day 10 Prompt “Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that is a portrait of someone important to you. It doesn’t need to focus so much on what a person looks (or looked) like, as what they are or were.”

Spam (NaPoWriMo – Day 9)

SPAM

I can meet other folks,
Cure illnesses and strokes,
And win lotteries in Chad.

Change sizes of things I don’t own,
Qualify for a hefty loan,
And pay off debts I never had.

Princes will send lots of dough —
I have to open these emails, though.
Hmm, maybe it won’t be so bad.

NaPoWriMo.net – Day 9 Prompt “Because today is the ninth day of NaPoWriMo, I’d like to challenge you to write a nine-line poem. Although the fourteen-line sonnet is often considered the “baseline” form of verse in English, Sir Edmund Spenser wrote The Faerie Queene using a nine-line form of his own devising, and poetry in other languages (French, most particularly) has always taken advantage of nine-line forms.”

My Tears Make Me a Warrior (Day 8)

I don’t need nerves of steel
To be allowed to grow and heal.
My tears make me a warrior.

Call me sensitive, if you will,
Emotions don’t scare me — 
I’ve had my fill.
My tears make me a warrior.

It takes courage to face the things I’ve seen.
Bliss, pain, and everything in between.
My tears make me a warrior.

Depression, sadness, and despair?
Bitter and angry beyond repair?
My tears make me a warrior.

I may scream;
I just might cry.
I won’t pretend
Something’s in my eye.
I have no need
To hide or deny.
Ask about my feelings?
Let me demystify —
My tears make me a warrior.

I don’t need to act tough.
Reality is enough.
It takes guts to cry,
That’s why I’m so fly—
My tears make me a warrior.

NaPoWriMo.net Day 8

“Today I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that relies on repetition. It can be repetition of a phrase, or just a word. Need a couple of examples? Try “The Bells” by Edgar Allan Poe, or Joy Harjo’s “She Had Some Horses”. Poe’s poem creates a relentless, clanging effect through the repetition of the word “bells,” while Harjo’s repeated use of the phrase “she had some horses” and variations thereof gives her poem poem its incantatory effect, while also deepening its central philosophical conceit of what things are the same and what things are different.”

Still Life with Elephant (NaPoWriMo 6)


Still Life with Elephant (Denial)


O.
Because I have no words—
Only images—
Memories—Pain—
I will carry as much as I can.

I.

Mommy?
Daddy?

III.

Look! Duckies!
Skip, run,
Play, hooray,
Hop,
Heavenly
Happiness.

VII.
School
Safety
Study
Serenity

 X.

 

 

XII.

Achieve
Achieve
Accomplish
Achieve
Do more.
Everything
Is fine.

XVI.

I didn’t mean to be
Rebellious,
Sassy, or
To talk back.
I just thought I
Saw an elephant,
maybe.
Whatever.


XX.

Yep. Definitely
An elephant, maybe several.
I can see the grey
And smell the evidence
Of their presence.
I can’t talk about it
Right now, though.
The stench is too
Raw.
Maybe I just need to
CLEAN
Everything.

 XXXII.

I hear rumbling.
Perhaps roaring?
Who is this
That cries and screeches for
Help? 

XL.

I was born to be a mahout.
I am becoming whole,
Learning to balance,
And I now recognize this
Behemoth as
A healer And my friend.
The elephant
That was once “in the room”
Is now free.
Together we face
Our journey.
Our pain.
Our story.
Our trumpeting.
Our victory.

NaPoWriMo.net – Day 6 Prompt “And now for our (optional) prompt. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that looks at the same thing from various points of view. The most famous poem of this type is probably Wallace Stevens’ “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird”. You don’t need to have thirteen ways of looking at something – just a few will do!
Happy writing!”

Iris (NaPoWriMo – Day 5)



Screen Shot 2017-04-08 at 5.48.53 PM

Sometimes, when home was a battleground
And the rest of the world seemed equally formidable,
I’d escape to the tiny fir fortress
That lined the front of the house.
Armored behind an Arborvitae acropolis,
I would wait out the storm
Of drunken denunciations
and loaded questions. Cradled
Between bricks and bushy branches,
I discovered a fragrant friend.
Iris.
She was late, as the flowers of spring
Had come and gone.
Lily of the valley
Whispers could no longer be heard.
She was diagonal—
Leaning toward the light
That forced its way between the shrubs.
She was evanescent.
As soon as I discovered her each summer,
I knew she would only be around for a few days.
Then, she would wilt, shriveling
As she aged.
Fortunately,
She would return each summer—
Just when I forgot, or thought
She’d forgotten—
She would rise up,
A Champion,
Flaunting her fruity falls,
To remind me—
To make sure that
I see—
Even in the darkest corners,
Even when I had waited longer than
I thought I could bear,
Beauty,
Hope,
always pushes through.

Day 5 Prompt from NaPoWriMo.net “In honor of Mary Oliver’s work, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that is based in the natural world: it could be about a particular plant, animal, or a particular landscape. But it should be about a slice of the natural world that you have personally experienced and optimally, one that you have experienced often. Try to incorporate specific details while also stating why you find the chosen place or plant/animal meaningful.”