Necessary

Poetry form: Cinquain

Red is
necessary.
I hope it will not be
everything you see when you look
at me.


Image Credit: Art by Midori Yamada

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White Noise

Maybe I am stuck 
because I am waiting to be moved. 
Maybe I can move 
somebody who feels stuck.  

I loop the songs I love 
until I choke them of all emotion. 
I stumble through words 
from a million brilliant minds 
searching for madness akin to mine. 

Pictures, stories, art, 
opinions, musings, crafts –  
I gnaw at everything for hidden meaning. 

Am I even human if nothing moves me? 
Do I deserve death if I never learned to live? 

Spur my soul, stir my heart 
you, who knows exactly what I mean.
Or hark my bemoaning  

as the graceless floundering 
of unmoored ennui. 
 


Image Credit: Art by Julia Manchik

Moon Drunk

Moon drunk fool,
you hide your pain
gloriously.

I adore the way you
drape your words
around the night and
make mellow poems
to soothe the sting of this
lunatic
lovelorn
lousy
life.


Image Credit: Moon River Lady by Paula Belle Flores

Ebb and Flow

I feel you  
lover mine 
bloom under my touch –  
opal eyes 
kindled, anticipating; 
fragrant skin 
alive with an awakening. 

And I  
loom in the shadows 
of your errant breathing. 

I see you 
lover mine 
recede to the place
warm, amenable 
where my words 
(wounds, really) 
diffuse into nothing. 

And I  
rush, frantic  
to quell the bleeding, 
the outpour 
of my uninvited feelings.


Image Credit: The Lovers by Ota Janeček

Every Day

Today I woke up
hating myself
more than I did yesterday.

Today I wept;
wished I could change,
become a different person.

Today I vowed
to save myself
to start anew.

Today I failed again;
my resolve trapped
inside my leaden bones.

Today I will sink,
broken
with the hope that
tomorrow
I will rise,
whole.


Image Credit: Art by Mike Bautista

Ultraviolet Bliss

NaPoWriMo #30
Poetry form: English Sonnet

Softly, the music makes me weep, and I 
sink into the storm. You are breathtaking.
My life before you was a dream, a lie.
I am awake now, love, trembling, shaking.

You have ripped my feeble façade away
and doused me in ultraviolet bliss.
You, you are the sky. I am a blue jay
forever reaching, begging for a kiss.

I smolder under your luminous gaze;
I grow heavy, molten under your touch.
Slowly, I open, close, my blood ablaze,
Undulating in your leisurely clutch.

I rise, yield, my heart beating like a drum.
I float, complete, my breath a steady thrum.


Image Credit: N/A

When You Open Up

NaPoWriMo #29
Poetry form: Free Verse

Your pain is not a gift.

Don’t be burdened
if they don’t rejoice to receive it.

Don’t
let the lack of a correct response
ebb your purge.

They don’t understand.
Of course, they don’t.
They are not you;
They have not suffered
your black holes.
Do you wish them to?

Don’t
brush away their sympathy.
It is the price you pay
to have someone
care enough to listen.


Image Credit: Illustration by Kathrin Honesta