Redaction
The choice to censor myself
Is not one that I want to make,
Redaction is not for the likes
Of poets like me.
I perfer to spill my verse
More honestly…
Without the markers
Cross to hide the dream
I want to speak.
Poetry Marathon Hour Ten
Category: pen names
Poetry Marathon Hour Nine
Publishing
Maybe making books
Is fantasy,
All inside my head.
Putting together pretty
Words until the ink is red.
Maybe making books
Requires a bit of whimsy
To see the dreams
Contained within.
Poetry Marathon Hour Eight
I had nothing to say about the prompt for this hour… so I wrote what I wanted to…
Am I the Mistake
I understand now
That you were right,
I was your mistake.
That doesn’t mean
It was in any way
On my shoulders,
For I was a child
Whose only responsibility
Was growing up.
You made the mistake
In having children
You could not love
Unconditionally.
Poetry Marathon Hour Seven
What is Love
So much that the poets
Have debated,
Ancient song lyrics
All have joined in to ask,
Not a answer amongst them…
Just another question to ask.
What is love
More than a debate
On human nature,
Emotions, and understanding
Time for grace.
Poetry Marathon Hour Six
I didn’t use the prompt. We had a pet die this morning and I chose to instead use my hour six poem to write about the chicken.
Nugget
You were sweet and onery
Quick to escape and a little bit of fun.
We are sorry to see you go
You started out one of the most mean
Of the litter we received,,
But you mellowed quickly.
We named her nugget because
She was onery and quick witted,
Damn it nugget was often heard…
Now we say that for the tears
Cried because we miss you.
Your funeral pyre was glorious
Go ahead, show the gods
You are magnificent!
Poetry Marathon Hour Five
Music
Music is such a personal thing
Shared by the world
With each hearing it uniquely.
The dreams are nightmares collectively,
For the lyrics are interpreted
Quite different depending on
The soul.
Some just hear only the beat,
Others need the lyrics
To connect
Soulfully.
Poety Marathon hour one
About us draped the past
Please understand that we have always
Had the past wrapped around us,
Echoing the moments that we lived…
We wore it proudly because it made us
Into the people that we were,
Folding us like origami into individual selves…
Perhaps it was too heavy for some,
That cloak of memories,
But it still was a part
Of the way that
Humanity dressed.
Serena’s Story
Serena’s story was accepted a bit ago in an anthology by Circle City Publishing. We just got the link today. It looks like a great read. Get yours here.
Monday Poetry
Today is one of mine and one of Serena’s poems, Mostly because Serena has been writing more than I have. Her Midnight Verse is nearing done. I have barely started with Echoes.
Monday Poetry
I oopsed and undid my Monday poetry post from this week…so here it is again…one from me and one from Serena…
Pattimouse 