OctPoWriMo, Day 25 (Caught Up)


Giving Love

Giving love
Is all I’ve ever done
Bent over backwards, twisted in knots
Here in my hands, an offering: here is my heart
You took it without a word of thanks
Only asked if it could
Beat faster

This was written for OctPoWriMo, 31 poems in 31 days.  this was written using the given prompt “the door opens both ways,” and the form triquain.

OctPoWriMo, Day 25 (Poem 24)


Clouds part like curtains
Sunshine, golden yellow
Spills out like butter

Her lips part in thought
A candy-hint pink of tongue
Feels too intimate

The door opening
Startles the cat; give me hope
That you have come home

This was written for OctPoWriMo, 31 poems in 30 days.  This one was written to the prompt “opening,” three takes on the theme in haiku. 

OctPoWriMo, Day 24 (Poem 23)

ReclaimingSneaking Out 

We wait until your parents fall asleep before we clamor out your bedroom window — hardly a grand gesture in a bungalow, but the feeling, God, the feeling is a low, delicious tingle somewhere just above your tailbone that makes all your hair stand on end and your joints feel just a bit like they’re melting.  We’re twelve years old, and we don’t even go anywhere, because that’s not the point, damn it; the point is, we could — we could.  There’s no sound, no creaking doors or lights flicked on, no acknowledgement at all that we are no longer huddled safely in our sleeping bags on your bedroom floor.  We could leave.  We could disappear.

We settle in the grass, the blades brittle from the summer sun, but damp in the late-night humidity.  In the silence, only crickets, and the soft knocking of moths, battering their wings against your screen door.  The sky is limitlesss, and we lie in breathless silence, momentarily overwhelmed by the boundlessness above us.

Within us as well
Vast unexplored expanses
Thrill and terrify

This poem was written for OctPoWriMo, and is once again in the form of  haibun (prose poetry followed be a haiku).  The month is winding down, but feel free to jump at any tiime if the mood strikes.

OctPoWriMo, Day 22


To you, I offered up my heart;
Beating, red, on a silver platter.
Hungrily, you rent it apart;
I felt each gnash, each tear, each tatter.
Retching, in ruin, I asked how it was;
A smile stretched out your terrible jaws,
And in a voice dripping with pleasure,
Say, “To tell the truth, I’ve had much better.”

This is for OctPoWriMo, which you should all be following, for real!.  This is an Italian form called a rispetto, which I’ve really fudged the meter on, but hey, all’s fair in love and poetry.

OctPoWriMo, Day 21 (Caught Up)

ReclaimingAre We Damned?

Are we damned? Then take my hand, my friend;
We’ll saunter into hell with head’s held high,
Smiling brightly as we meet our end.
With all our good and bad deeds, quantified
I’m counting on you being by my side
Through the ever winding labrynith of forever.
So long as you’re with me, I can abide:
Hell hath no fury, so long as we’re together.

This is for OctPoWriMo, and a sure sign I’ve been reading too much fanfic in a certain fandom.  This is a French form called a huitain.

OctPoWriMo, Day 21 (Poem 20)

ReclaimingToday’s prompt was basically, how do you know if love is real?  I didn’t love the suggested forms, so I did a Petrarchan sonnet.  Woohoo!

How Do You Know If Love Is Real?

The simple, honest answer is: you don’t.
We are, each of us, servants to desire:
What in our hearts today may light a fire
It’s possible tomorrow that it won’t.

We only must embrace it here and now;
Live each day to the fullest as it comes,
And trust that if they really are The One
Not time nor circumstance shall disavow.

So say that we’re in love, for we may be;
A conceit in which we both are in accord;
A story told in both our voices true.
Should we reach the end together, you and me,
We can know that each the other most adored–
For now, I’ll just enjoy the tale with you.

This is for OctPoWriMo, 31 poems in (ideally) 31 days.  I’m behind, but I’m writing!  You should too, if the inspiration moves you.

OctPoWriMo, Day 20 (Poem 19)

ReclaimingNot in the head space to play around with this too much, but hoo boy, the palindrome poems are tough buggers.  Here’s one for Day 19, when it was a suggested form.


Fairness in life —
Is that unattainable?
Freedom inalienable,
Injustice obsolete:
Only peace.


Peace, only obsolete;
Injustice, inalienable,
Freedom unattainable.

That is life,
in fairness.

This is for OctPoWriMo, 31 poems in (ideally) 31 days.  I’m behind, but I’m writing!  You should too, if the inspiration moves you.