Category Archives: Poetry

Just Another Day With Death – A Poem

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They call at two

They call at three

Makes no real difference to me.

The dead . . .

They care not what time I am forced to rise

They care for nothing

About nothing.

Where are my scrub pants

Dirty from the last prep

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Come, the dead urge me

They insist

I answer, after finding new pants

I’m coming.

Soon you will be

Lovely as can be

And all because of me.

Just another day with death.

death2

 

 

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You Can Write That Book

 

good-morning

I woke at 3:30 this morning with a thought running through my head; write. I’ve been reading a book about how to get a first draft written in just 30 days. Well, I’m taking longer than 30 days but it’s working. Feels good to be on this decade-long project again with a fresh eye.

Are you one of the millions of Americans who think he/she has a good book in his/her head? If so, start it. Don’t sit paralyzed because you think you need an extensive outline or a dozen developed characters to start. Just begin writing and see where it takes you. If nothing else, you’ll enjoy the process. There are no hard and fast rules.

Writing has come naturally to me since I was a young girl. I churned out poetry, stories, and goofy limericks. Recently, I’ve penned some hilarious Senyru poems (like a haiku but funny and usually about people).

Want to share what you have written? Send me a note and maybe I can offer a suggestion or two. Let me know in the comments section below. I have many subscribers to this blog, so I can’t help all.

Take away? Please put your fingers to the keyboard and express yourself. I’ll leave you with a Senyru poem for the day (5-7-5 syllable lines). Have an awesome one!

Nurse Anne took samples

Samples of pee to the lab

Her work pissed her off

 

LOL! Sorry it’s tacky but it’s what I came up with in the moment. Bye, all . . .

What I Know is Nothing

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When I look up and into the sky blue sky

full of fluffy white fluffy clouds

Space is full of stuff – stuffed stuff or unstuffed

Beyond the blue and white above me are other planets, other skies, other guys

Naked, I shiver in the hot summer afternoon – but it’s a dry heat

In a coat, I shiver among snow drifts – but it’s a moist cool

Above my head are twinkling stars that twinkle like a star

Vastness of universe and limitations of my body and mind – not parallel like a parallel universe

What I know for sure is that I know nothing – like I know what I know, and it’s nothing

Sadness Has Shades – A Poem

 

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A painter uses color, texture -tangibles – to express herself.

I use words. My mind purges its stresses on white pages.

I sometimes think in gray.

Cloudy skies are the shade of sadness.

Sadness has shades, if you didn’t know it.

I’ve had sadness in blue shades. Blue, more intense than gray.

Gray has no passion, is sleepy and without great expression.

Blues offer bite. When dark, it’s angry sadness.

Light blue leaves room for improvement. Hope.

Black. Ever felt black?

Absorbing all light around you. Reflecting none.

Lack of light is black. I’ve felt black. I’ve lived black.

Black was the height of sadness, and all was dark.

Are you beige? Beige is boring. Not ugly but boring.

I lived beige for several years. It was a color of denial.

Same old. Same old. Beige. Sad but denying it.

Currently, I feel green. New growth is everywhere.

Soon it will be spring. Life has changed.

Green feels nice. Cooling and hopeful.

No sadness blankets this life.

But now and then, I do have other-color days.

Life is, after all,  a rainbow of colors.

Sadness can be in many colors and shades

But joy can, too.

Coloured air balloons

 

 

Alone

Where exactly is it? That ache that isn’t “real.”

The feeling of alone-ness

I hold and now reveal.

 

In the heart or chest somewhere

the heaviness sits hard

No respite for this weary soul

Yet, often, I’m off guard

 

Vices do I grab

To nothingness I hold

Weariness like weights

Inside me till I’m old

 

 

 

 

Spinning

I just spun around in my office chair – not once but over and over. My eyes closed tightly, my feet moving to keep the momentum. I was back in my childhood, when I’d spin on anything with a rope or chain. I was a notorious spinner on swings.

When I opened my eyes after going round in my office chair, I felt momentarily dizzy. Yet I smiled and remembered having a Kool-aid moustache, tousled ponytail, and tanned skin from spending days in the sun, playing, riding bikes . . . and spinning.

🙂

Wherever I Choose

Wherever I Choose

 

The ocean’s salty brine. Its cool and rhythmic waves. Sounds of seagulls, sandpipers, and faraway ships. I’m there in my mind.

 

Atop the breezy mountain. Among a field full of Black-eyed Susans. East Texas sand beneath my feet. The scent of watermelon in my lunch pail. I’m there in my mind.

 

It can take me anywhere – show me anything. Living in the moment . . . wherever I choose.

Toxins in My Tears – A Poem

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(photo from deviantart.com)

ARTICLEhttp://psychcentral.com/blog/archives/2011/05/29/7-good-reasons-to-cry-the-healing-property-of-tears/

Maybe if I cry hard enough for long enough, I can get rid of ALL of the toxic feelings inside my chest.

Maybe that knot will go away. Just maybe the gnawing will subside.

There are toxins in our tears. Did you know that?

Tears of stress or grief . . . release toxins and bacteria.

I should be clean enough to stop the pain I carry around but it hasn’t happened. How do I cry enough?  I’ve shed more than my share of tears. What IS my share?

So, I fight the inner feeling that makes me feel like there is no beauty in the sun on the autumn lawn or the soft music coming from my laptop.

The fall leaves don’t matter – yellow or red. Used to be my favorite season. Now, I wonder if I’ll see another autumn and realize I don’t really even care.

crying

I am better today. That was yesterday.

Oh, the difference a day makes.